Last year I found it hard not to succumb to the expectation that, as a student, I would drink to get paralytically drunk. I’d have happily switched to lemonade after one cider, but found it hard to ride against the wave of student drinking culture. In retrospect, I wish I had. I didn’t stand my ground, and before I knew it I was drinking until I could no longer stand in a rather more literal sense. Soon the default expectation was that I wanted to get drunk, not just because I was a student, but because I was me.

My idea of a good Freshers' Week would have been to have the odd drink, but not get wasted. Yet, after intensive googling prior to arriving at Cambridge, it seemed that drunken stupors were an integral part of Freshers' Week. Looking at the college activities, most centred on clubbing and pub crawls. Sure, I could have chosen Pepsi as my poison rather than wine, but have you ever tried going to Life sober? Even the official start of university life involved alcohol – my college’s matriculation dinner involved drinking red wine from a horn. In short, social life and a sober life did not seem to fit.

What I found particularly hard in freshers was that I have never been teetotal. I would drink, but not get drunk, usually just sticking to one cider. Yet, after having one drink, people assume that you’re up for more. New friends will drag you to the bar for a refill, no questions asked. I had friends who drank nothing at all during Freshers' Week, rather than limit their drinking as I did, and they seemed to face less peer pressure. Yet, it is assumed that once you have one drink, you’ll want to keep going until you teeter on the edge of chundering. I was worried others would take it as personal insult if I didn’t go halves on a 2-for-1 cocktail pitcher, because it seemed that I wasn’t averse to drinking per se, so must be averse to drinking with them. After experiencing this pressure during Sixth Form, I decided that it would be a really wonderful idea to run with the general student mentality of drinking until you vomit, then drinking some more.

I was going to get drunk in freshers, and after that I would just stick to the odd beer here and there. That was the plan. You see, drinking really isn’t good for me. It seems such an obvious statement – a jägerbomb is hardly one of your five a day. But for me, alcohol is more unhealthy than its physical effects. I have a highly addictive personality. Anything that I do or drink or eat has the potential for addiction. Literally, anything. I’m pretty certain that the amount of time I’ve spent playing Fruit Ninja is bordering on pathological. Alcohol is a renowned addictive substance, and while I did not want to cut it out completely, I knew that my use might quickly escalate.

For me, my reasons for limiting alcohol consumption was part of the reason it was difficult to tell others why I didn’t want to drink much during freshers. Announcing to strangers ‘I have an addictive personality’ seemed a pretty lame conversation starter. Going teetotal seemed like it might be easier – you just tell people you don’t drink, no questions asked. Stopping after one drink gathers more attention and creates more questions that I would rather not answer. In retrospect, I’m sure no one would have cared or noticed if I stuck to tap water, but as a socially anxious fresher I was convinced I wouldn’t make friends if I wasn’t intoxicated.

In retrospect, I wish I had swam against the tide of intoxication. I spent my first night of freshers downing vodka shots, stealing traffic cones and taking drunk selfies with a sheep. By the next morning I had gained a queasy stomach, headache and a reputation for being a bit of a mess. Evening came around, and I was drinking again. After spending a week in this cycle, friends understandably assumed that this was the level of drinking that I was happy to maintain. I was expected to binge drink because that was what I had been doing throughout the time that they had known me, and not just because I was a student.

Freshers' Week ended, but my drinking didn’t. My new friends knew me as someone who got drunk a lot, and I began to know myself as that person too. I adopted a very different view of my identity, and my lifestyle changed entirely. My life became a rather depressing cycle of recovering from hangovers then recreating them. I had spent the past two years waking up at 5:30am, but during my first year I was rarely functional before midday. My eating habits dramatically shifted too. I’d always been a healthy eater, but quinoa salads were quickly replaced with cheesy chips and 2am dominoes pizzas. I wouldn’t say I had an alcohol problem – I comfortably quit all drinking during third term. Yet, I certainly did not feel at ease with the lifestyle I had let myself fall into.

I’ve cut back on drinking. Guess what? No one really cares. Declining a jägerbomb really wasn’t the faux pas I thought it would be. Somewhat surprisingly, I’ve noticed a sober social life has actually been an improvement. Now I am no longer battling a raging hangover until 3pm, I’ve spent more quality time with my friends during the day. Sober clubbing has also been pretty fun. Sure, its much harder not to notice the sweat dripping from the ceiling in Fez, and much easier to remember that you have to be out of bed in four hours' time. But the fun you have is so much more genuine when a good night is fuelled by company rather than by VKs.

I’ve started second year with a new outlook. It’s hard to say no to another drink, but it's easier than washing dried vomit out of your hair. My advice: it’s okay to stand your ground. Falling over drunk isn’t for everyone.