I was drinking to be the life of the party. Every social event was a performance fueled by booze – the loudest laugh, the most outrageous joke, the one who danced on the table when the music cranked up.

The thing is, I didn’t like the person I became. Underneath the bravado, I was cripplingly shy, the alcohol a mask I couldn’t take off.

The day I realized how far this had gone was a friend’s BBQ. I started drinking early, as usual. By the time everyone else arrived, I was flying. I don’t remember much beyond blurry snapshots: telling a story I’d told a dozen times before, the laughter sounding strained; the concerned look on my best friend’s face that I brushed off; the blackout. I knew I’d made a fool of myself. I knew I was an embarrassment.

I woke up the next morning, humiliation like acid in my gut. It wasn’t the first time I’d behaved that way, but it was the worst. It was the moment shame cracked through the carefully constructed facade I was hiding behind.

Quitting for me involved more than just ditching the booze:

Therapy was key: I had to dig into why I needed the mask in the first place. Learning to handle social anxiety without the crutch of alcohol took time, but eventually, I realized I could be fun and social without being wasted.

Finding new ‘outlets’: I started running. Turns out, the endorphin rush is a much healthier high than anything I found in a bottle, and the focus it demanded cleared my head in a way alcohol never could.

Honest friends: I told a few close people about my decision. Their support, and their willingness to hang out in ways that didn’t revolve around drinking, made all the difference.

Let me be straight with you, the first few parties sober were awkward. I felt like a fish out of water, not sure how to have a good time without the chemical courage. But slowly, I learned to build genuine connections. The conversations were deeper, the laughs more genuine. Most importantly, I remembered them the next day.

If you feel like drinking is the only way to “turn on” your personality, I want you to know it’s not true. The real you, the one struggling to get out? They’re so much more interesting than the blurred imitation alcohol creates. Finding them takes balls, but I’ve never regretted it for a second.