Bad?

 

Let’s cut straight to the chase: Alcohol is not your friend. Sure, it might seem like a charming companion at the start—the life of the party, the muse behind some of your wittiest one-liners, and the enabler of your impromptu karaoke sessions. But as a newly released federal report reveals, even a single drink a day comes with strings attached, ones you’d rather not untangle.

According to STAT’s analysis of the report, “A single daily alcoholic drink raises the risk of numerous health issues, including several cancers and cardiovascular conditions.” That’s right, folks—the notion of a “safe” amount of alcohol has been put on the chopping block. While you may enjoy a glass of red wine with dinner, confidently clinking glasses with the justification of heart health, science is now playing the ultimate buzzkill: “Even low levels of consumption can lead to adverse health outcomes,” the report emphasizes.

As someone who no longer drinks, these findings don’t surprise me. Alcohol and I were once deeply entangled in what I can only describe as a toxic relationship. I’ve got the fun memories to prove it, sure, but—if we’re being honest—they’re vastly outweighed by the chaos, regret, and moments of, “Why did I think that was a good idea?” Like an ex you’re better off without, alcohol’s charm faded quickly, leaving me grappling with its true colors: a master of deception.

The numbers don’t lie. The federal report dives into the cold, hard facts about alcohol’s impact on the human body, noting its role as a “Group 1 carcinogen,” a fancy way of saying it’s up there with tobacco and asbestos. Let’s not gloss over that: The celebratory champagne you pop on New Year’s Eve is classified in the same cancer-causing category as the cigarette you probably worked hard to quit. Chew on that irony for a moment.

Yet, society treats alcohol with kid gloves. It’s the only toxic drug that demands an explanation when you abstain. Picture it: You’re at a dinner party, and someone offers you a drink. You politely decline. Cue the interrogation: “Why not?” followed by a barrage of assumptions ranging from pregnancy to rehab. It’s as if the act of not drinking requires an affidavit.

Compare this to other substances. Nobody raises an eyebrow if you decline a cigarette or a line of cocaine. But refuse a beer? Suddenly, you’re a social pariah. This cultural double standard only reinforces alcohol’s stranglehold on social norms, making it harder for those who’ve chosen sobriety to navigate everyday interactions without a side order of awkwardness.

For people like me, even a single sip of alcohol can be a gateway to disaster. It’s not just a drink; it’s a Pandora’s box filled with poor decisions, ruined relationships, and endless apologies. I’ll never truly understand why alcohol affects me the way it does. Maybe it’s genetic, maybe psychological, or maybe just bad luck. What I do know is that my life is infinitely better without it.

Don’t get me wrong, I hold the good memories dear: the laughter, the camaraderie, the sheer joy of dancing like nobody was watching (even when everyone was). But toward the end of my drinking days, the bad began to outweigh the good by a landslide. Nights that started with a casual drink ended in blurry recollections and a gnawing sense of dread the next morning. It wasn’t just a hangover; it was a waking nightmare.

Here’s the kicker: Choosing not to drink doesn’t mean forfeiting fun. In fact, sobriety has a way of sharpening life’s edges, allowing you to experience joy, connection, and even mischief with clarity and intention. And let’s be real—nothing beats the satisfaction of remembering every moment of a good night out.

The idea that alcohol is essential to socializing is a myth we’ve been sold by clever marketing campaigns and cultural traditions. But the truth is, you can toast with sparkling water, laugh until your sides hurt, and dance until your feet ache without a drop of booze. And the best part? No regrets, no apologies, and no “What did I say last night?”

The federal report’s findings are a wake-up call, not just for drinkers but for society at large. We need to rethink our relationship with alcohol, shedding the romanticized image of it as a harmless indulgence. This isn’t about shaming those who enjoy a drink responsibly; it’s about acknowledging the risks and making informed choices.

For those who choose to drink, know the facts. Understand that even moderate consumption carries risks and that there’s no magic threshold where alcohol suddenly becomes “healthy.” And for those who don’t drink, let’s normalize abstinence. No explanations, no excuses, just a simple, “No, thanks.”

At the end of the day, the choice to drink or not drink is deeply personal. But it’s a choice that should be made with eyes wide open, armed with the knowledge that alcohol isn’t the benign elixir it’s often made out to be. So the next time someone asks why you’re not drinking, feel free to borrow my answer: “Because my life’s better without it.”

Let’s raise a glass—of water, juice, or anything else—to a future where sobriety isn’t stigmatized, where health takes precedence over habit, and where we’re all a little kinder to those making the choice that’s right for them. Cheers to that.

And don't forget to check out my new novel: Cocaine Cola