December always brings a particular kind of pressure.

It has a way of magnifying everything—joy, nostalgia, expectations, and especially social pressure. And six years ago, that pressure showed up in the form of a date circled on my calendar:

Our annual holiday party.

Normally, it was one of my favorite nights: twinkling lights, mulled wine, chatter filling every corner of the house. But that year was different. I had just passed the one-month mark of being alcohol-free.

And the thought of hosting a house full of drinking friends while staying sober myself? Absolutely terrifying.

The Instinct to Hide

I wanted to cancel. I wanted to avoid. I wanted to wait until I felt “stronger,” “more ready,” “more sure.”

But a quiet part of me understood something important: If I kept waiting for the perfect moment to test my new alcohol-free life, I’d be waiting forever.

So we sent the invitations anyway.

In the days leading up to the party, my worries multiplied.
What would I hold in my hands?
What would I say when someone asked why I wasn’t drinking?
Would I still be fun?
Would I still belong?

I didn’t know. But I knew this: I was tired of believing that joy, connection, and celebration required alcohol.

Preparing to Show Up Differently

Instead of asking,“What am I missing out on?”

I began asking, “What becomes possible when I show up fully present?”

I stocked beautiful glassware with sparkling cider and cranberry mocktails. I planned activities that weren’t centered around wine.

I practiced a simple line: “I’m not drinking tonight, but try this — it’s delicious.”

It wasn’t about explaining or defending myself. It was about choosing how I wanted to feel.

What Actually Happened

The night of the party arrived—and something unexpected happened:

It was one of the most connected, joyful evenings I’d had in years.

I remembered every conversation. I listened with my whole self. I felt grounded instead of scattered, energized instead of depleted.

People cared far less about my glass than I feared. Some even loved the cranberry sparkler more than the wine.

And perhaps most surprising of all: I went to bed proud, clear, and fully myself.

That night cracked open a truth I had been afraid to look at:

The story that “sober equals missing out” simply wasn’t true.

What That Night Taught Me

Looking back, four lessons stand out:

1. The anticipation is scarier than the reality. Our minds create elaborate stories about what we’ll lose—but presence creates its own kind of magic.

2. No one is watching your drink. People are wrapped in their own worlds. Your glass barely registers.

3. Joy doesn’t live in the bottle. It comes from connection, laughter, attention, presence—things alcohol actually dulls.

4. You get to redefine celebration. Maybe it’s a mocktail. Maybe it’s leaving early. Maybe it’s dancing to terrible holiday music.

The point is: you get to choose.

A New Way to Move Through December

The holidays are full of social invitations, rituals, and old habits.

But they’re also full of possibility.

You don’t have to choose between sobriety and joy.

You don’t have to white-knuckle your way through every gathering.

You don’t have to feel like the odd one out.

You get to decide who you want to be in the room.

You get to show up proud of yourself the next morning.

You get to remember the night—all of it.

And if you’d like guidance navigating holiday events, or if this is your first alcohol-free December, my 30 Day Reset program is there you. Or if you're not yet ready to explore a 30 day break, get started with my complimentary 7 Day Experiment. I give you the scripts, tools, and mindset shifts that helped me that very first year.

Because you deserve a December that feels abundant—not scarce.
Connected—not numbed.
Joyful—in the truest sense of the word.