On the Wagon? How to Handle the "Go On, Just Have One Beer" Conversation

Before I took my first abstinence challenge, I had built up the moment in my head when someone would ask if I wanted a beer — the raised eyebrow at the bar, the friend pushing a pint towards me, the slightly awkward standoff while everyone waited to see if I would cave. I had a whole defence prepared.

What I found, almost every time, was that the conversation was nothing like I had imagined.

Out with friends, off the booze

Telling People That I Wasn't Drinking

The simplest explanation for not drinking is usually the most effective one — a short, honest, time-limited reason tends to close down questions rather than invite them, and most people are far less interested than you expect.

The first time someone asked why I wasn't drinking, I said exactly what was true. "I'm on the wagon for a week. I've set myself a little challenge, so I'm not touching the booze." That was it. No drama, no defensiveness, nothing to push back against because there was nothing being declared except a short, time-limited decision.

People were generally interested. We would talk about the reasons why for a minute or two, and then the conversation moved on to the usual stuff we'd usually speak about. Nobody pushed. Nobody made a thing of it.

The same conversation happened again the next time I saw those friends, and the time after that. Eventually it stopped being a conversation at all. They simply knew I was exploring my relationship with alcohol, and that became part of the background rather than something that needed explaining every time.

The pressure, when it did show up, came from a different direction entirely — family. My mum and dad. My parents-in-law.

It makes sense, in hindsight. Family relationships carry history that friendships don't always have. A drink together can mean something different at a family gathering than it does at the pub — it can be tied up with tradition, with how things have always been done, with a particular way of marking time together. When I stepped back from that, even briefly, it registered differently than it did with friends.

But even there, I explained my reasons honestly — the same explanation I had been giving everyone else — and we moved on. No drama. The conversation that I had quietly dreaded the most turned out to require nothing more than the same honesty that had worked everywhere else.

Embracing the Decision

Yet, looking back, here is the part I find most interesting.

For a long time, I could not finish that conversation without adding something at the end. "I'm sure I'll drink again — I just need a longer break." Every single time. It was as if I needed to signal, clearly and immediately, that I had not lost my identity as a drinker. That I would still be Colin, getting a round in and having a few cold ones the next time we met. That this was a pause, not a departure.

I think I needed other people to hear that reassurance almost as much as I needed to say it. If the door was still open, the decision felt safe. It did not threaten who I was. It was just a longer-than-usual break from something I would obviously be returning to.

That sentence went on for a long time. Longer than I expected. It took around two years before I stopped adding it — not because I decided to stop saying it, but because at some point it simply was not true anymore. I still do not know if I will drink again. But I no longer feel the need to say so at the end of every conversation about why I don't.

Answering the 'Question' when you're on the wagon

If you are asked if you want an alcoholic drink, the most useful thing I can offer is this: be honest about what you are doing and why. You do not need an elaborate justification — a short, simple explanation is usually enough, and it tends to close down further questions rather than invite them. If you feel the need to reassure people that this is temporary, that you will probably drink again, say it if it is true. There is no shame in that. I said it for two years, and it did not make my eventual identity shift any less real when it arrived.

And if the harder conversation turns out to be with family rather than friends, do not be surprised, because some people will just not understand why someone needs to step away from booze. Just bring the same honesty you would bring anywhere else. In my experience, that is usually all the conversation needs.

If you are getting ready to navigate these conversations yourself, the Seven-Day Abstinence Challenge on Pendulum of Change gives you a simple, time-limited explanation to offer — exactly the kind that worked for me.