I survived Dry January in the heart of bourbon country. Here's what I learned.

More than that though, it’s 31 days of my feed overflowing with stories and think pieces about why seemingly everybody and their sister is — or is not — doing Dry January and why it is — or is not — a good idea.I’ve seen it called “misguided at best,” a blow to the food and beverage industry, and “a month of people proving they’re not alcoholics.” I’ve also seen it heralded as a healthy start to the new year, bound to cause ripple effects for months in wellbeing. “You all should come by” is shorthand for “come drink with us.” I don’t feel I’m being hospitable if I don’t have several (several!) bourbons on offer, plus wine or beer. I met for coffee in the day instead of drinks in the evening, and even went to a bar for mocktails with fellow writer friends. Drinking me is an amplified me, not a different me, so I found I didn’t need booze to have rousing conversations or enjoy being with friends (that’s a relief!).https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzgFoPhoY2But it wasn’t the same. I don’t get much done.A month in I’ve gotten over the hump and don’t have that automatic thought of pouring a drink at the end of the day. Post Dry January I’d like to have a drink if and when I actually want one, not just mechanically from habit. A lot of people, including around here, are talking about how much we drink, and whether it’s a good idea.