SoberlyCo Newsletter #6: The Power of Stubborn (And Why "No" is a Complete Sentence)

This weekend was supposed to be complicated.

I'd agreed to stay with an old mate—let's call him Dave—someone I used to drink with regularly back in the day. We're talking proper sessions: Friday night pints that rolled into Saturday morning regrets, followed by "hair of the dog" Sunday recovery drinks.

The last time we'd hung out properly, alcohol was the main event.

But instead of the awkward weekend I was expecting, I spent Saturday morning in his garden, hands in the dirt, having one of the most honest conversations we'd ever had.

All because I'd finally learned the power of being stubborn.

The Setup

When Dave invited me to stay, my first instinct was to make excuses: "I'm not drinking at the moment, so it might be weird," or "I'm doing this sobriety experiment thing."

Then I caught myself.

Why was I pre-apologizing for a choice I'm proud of? Why was I offering explanations for something that doesn't require justification?

So I tried something different: I said yes to the visit, and decided I'd simply say "no" to any drinks offered. No elaborate explanations. No excuses. Just "no."

Friday Night: The Awkward Dance

The first test came about an hour after I arrived.

"Right, what can I get you? Beer? Wine? I've got that whiskey you like."

"No thanks, I'm good."

Pause. The kind of pause that feels like an hour.

"You sure? It's Friday night, mate."

"I'm sure. Thanks though."

Another pause. Then the inevitable:

"Everything alright? You feeling okay?"

Here's where the old me would have launched into explanations: the sobriety journey, the reasons why, the timeline, the benefits I'm seeing. Instead, I just smiled and said:

"Yeah, all good. Just don't fancy a drink."

And then I changed the subject.

The evening was... fine. A bit stilted, sure. We played some games, ordered takeaway, had surface-level chat. But something was different. By not over-explaining my choice, I'd made it less of a "thing."

Saturday Morning: The Garden Revelation

The next morning, Dave was up early working in his garden. I offered to help, partly because I genuinely enjoy gardening, but mostly because it gave us something to do with our hands while we talked.

There's something about working in the dirt that makes conversations easier.

After about an hour of weeding and general garden maintenance, Dave brought up what we'd both been dancing around:

"So, this not drinking thing—is it permanent?"

"I don't know about permanent," I said, pulling up a particularly stubborn dandelion. "But I'm not drinking now, and I like how I feel."

Then he said something that surprised me:

"I've been thinking about it too, actually. Cut back a lot since Sarah and I started trying for kids. But I don't know how to hang out with people without the pub, you know?"

And there it was—the real conversation.

The Power of Not Explaining

Here's what I learned from that weekend: when you stop over-explaining your choices, you give other people permission to be curious instead of defensive.

By not launching into a big speech about why I don't drink, I'd avoided making Dave feel like I was judging his choice to drink. Instead of putting him on the defensive, I'd created space for him to share his own thoughts.

"No" really is a complete sentence.

You don't owe anyone an explanation for:

• Not drinking at social events

• Choosing different activities

• Prioritizing your health and wellbeing

• Making choices that serve your goals

The more confidently you own your decisions, the less likely others are to question them.

The Activity Pivot

Once we'd had that honest conversation in the garden, everything shifted. Instead of our usual pub-based hangout, we started planning different activities:

• Sunday morning hike instead of Sunday recovery session

• Cooking a proper meal together instead of ordering hangover food

• Actually finishing the garden project instead of abandoning it for the pub

The result? We had more meaningful conversations in two days than we'd had in years of pub sessions. We talked about his hopes for becoming a dad, my journey with sobriety, his worries about work, my plans for the future.

Real conversations. The kind you remember.

The Stubborn Advantage

People often talk about stubbornness like it's a character flaw. But when it comes to protecting your sobriety, stubbornness is a superpower.

Being stubborn means:

• You don't negotiate with yourself about your boundaries

• You don't waste energy explaining choices you've already made

• You don't get swayed by other people's discomfort with your decisions

• You don't compromise on things that matter to you

This weekend, my stubbornness served me well. I was stubborn about not drinking, stubborn about not over-explaining, and stubborn about not making my choices anyone else's problem.

The result was the best weekend with Dave we'd had in years.

This Week's Stubborn Challenge

Pick one area where you've been over-explaining or making excuses for choices that serve you:

Maybe it's:

• Saying no to after-work drinks

• Choosing non-alcoholic options at social events

• Leaving parties early

• Prioritizing sleep over late-night socializing

This week, try the "stubborn approach":

1. Make your choice clearly - "No thanks" or "I'm heading home"

2. Don't elaborate - resist the urge to justify or explain

3. Change the subject - move the conversation to something else

4. Stay confident - your choices don't require other people's approval

Notice how differently people respond when you stop seeking permission for your decisions.

The Garden Metaphor

Sitting in Dave's garden Saturday morning, pulling weeds and planting new growth, I realized sobriety is a lot like gardening.

You have to be stubborn about protecting what you're growing. You can't negotiate with weeds or make excuses for not watering your plants. You just do what needs doing, consistently, without explanation.

The results speak for themselves.

By the end of the weekend, Dave and I had made tentative plans for a hiking trip next month. No pubs, no pressure, just two mates exploring the countryside and having proper conversations.

Sometimes the best friendships grow in the spaces where alcohol used to be.

Hit reply and tell me:

• Where do you over-explain choices that serve you?

• What activities could replace your usual alcohol-centered hangouts?

• When has stubbornness actually been a strength for you?

Here's to being unapologetically stubborn about what matters,

Paddy

P.S. My "first year hurdle" process touches on confident boundary-setting without over-explaining. Sometimes the most powerful response is the simplest one.

📧 Questions about setting boundaries or navigating old friendships? Just hit reply – I love hearing about your experiments with stubborn kindness.