I get chatting to someone at a party who shares their plans for the following morning. They’re going to a sober morning rave. “You should try it”, they say, “it’s fun”. I shudder. The shift from raving, cocooned by substances and dark rooms, to dancing sober on a Sunday morning is too big to get my head around. Dancing sober is awkward, sincere and not for this sarcastic, eye-rolling child of the 90s. I know that trying hard and being earnest is deeply embarrassing.

Read: In 2025, I thought a lot about dancing sober

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