3 Reasons Why I Don’t Drink

If you’re looking for some wholly religious, life-changing insight on why someone might not drink, you’re in the wrong place. Why I do or don’t do things usually is usually because of practicality. Here are my three reasons why I don’t drink alcoholic drinks.


#1: I’m not of legal drinking age.

This November I’ll be 21. In America, the legal drinking age is 21. Wow, how surprising... You might think. But honestly. It’s illegal, and I don’t want to get arrested or in legal trouble because I decided to get drunk and surpass the law. If I’m getting arrested, it better be for something legendary. Not for being an idiot and drinking underage.

Of course, this doesn’t stop most kids. They like to party, drink socially, and make merry. They find ways to get around the law, usually getting someone else to supply the alcohol who’s above age or simply taking it from their parents.

The most exciting parties I’ve had are murder mysteries with loads of snacks and soda, and those are usually my birthday parties or Halloween parties. We go all out and decorate the entire place up and have a great time. Alcohol isn’t a necessary component for having a good time. The people and what you’re doing at the party itself matter. Some people might say drinking is the party itself. I say that’s bad party planning.

Speaking of age, I’ve been introduced to alcohol at a young age. I was too young for what I would like to admit, and too young to properly call out the family figure that made me try it. That’s probably a part of why I don’t like it either. Y’know, watching an alcoholic down Pabst and get overly emotional on many levels can really frighten a young child.


#2: I don’t enjoy the effects.

People watching is interesting enough, but drunk people watching? Oh my god; that’s another level of hilarity. The confidence soaring in the regularly meek, the swelling emotions, the lower motor skills, the irrational actions and thoughts…

Why would I want to be experiencing any of that? I’ve got confidence. I’m a rather emotional person to begin with, especially after going on birth control. I still don’t walk well after having to re-learn from when I dislocated my kneecap. I’m always concerned about if it’s going to pop out again, and I walk with measured steps.

I try my best to be cognizant of my actions and how they’re received. If I say or do something, I do it because I mean to do it. I don’t have much of a filter because I don’t believe in pointlessly lying to people or being an agreeable pushover. Either way, I’ll be held accountable to whatever I do if I’m drunk or not. I have enough self-worth to not try to blame it on the alcohol or drunk-me, as if drunk-me isn’t me.

On a base level, you could probably liken me to a drunk person. So why would I want to have even less control of myself than I already do? My anxiety swells at the idea of having less control. Being a female young adult, the idea of letting myself get to a point where other people can make decisions for me, whether they’re trying to help or harm me, terrifies me. You’ve heard of all the accounts of rape, murder, and abduction that has increased chances of happening if someone leaves their drink or is intoxicated. Why would I ever give anyone the chance to do any of that?


#3: I don’t like the taste.

I’m a picky eater. I can’t eat most vegetables and fruits, and I can’t drink anything fizzy. It’s a texture thing. I could totally like the taste, but if the texture doesn’t work, I can’t eat or drink it. I’ve gotten better with age; I can finally eat a salad. It’s taken at least ten years before I’ve semi-enjoyed it.

I’ve tried to like soda, but it doesn’t really work. The second any carbonated water hits my tongue it’s like a slug getting salted. Last year when I was in Sweden I got a water bottle that seemed like it was regular water and it was actually soda water. I was having a lovely time walking through Gamla Stan, and I popped it open and took a swig. I immediately realized how wrong I was in my choosing and couldn’t help but spit-take. Thankfully, nobody was in the way of the spray, but if I didn’t get it out of me then it was going to get out of me later more forcefully.

But Noelle, you might say, it’s an acquired taste. You’ll like it eventually. Why would I waste time and money on something that I don’t immediately like? And even then, why would I buy and consume it to the point where I want to buy and consume it more? What if I got to the point of relying on it? Can you imagine how expensive that would get?

I’ll just get a water and save up for my next vacation, thanks.