About six months ago, I wrote my first essay on my (very new) experience with cutting alcohol out of my life for the first time. What I didn’t know at the time was that I was just dipping a baby toe into the freedom that is sobriety. Reading that essay now, I can tell that everything still felt so new, but I wasn’t yet committed to the change. I knew that I was experiencing positive effects: I felt happier, my head clearer, I was sleeping better and had less anxiety. But I was still confused. What would the rest of my life look like? Did this mean I could never have a drink again? If I didn’t, how would this change the relationships in my life?

At the time of writing that essay, I had taken a full month off from drinking and was experimenting with moderation. Not quite the rules-based “moderation” I had previously tried before taking a month off, which went something like this… I’ll only drink Thursday through Sunday. Unless I have a bad day on Tuesday, or Wednesday. But if I do that then I won’t drink on Thursday… unless I really want a drink on Thursday (and on and on… the mental gymnastics were unpleasant). No, this newer moderation went more like… I’ll have a drink once in a while, maybe with dinner while on vacation, maybe just once per week when I’m out with my husband, or at dinner with a friend. 

And so it went for a while. And it was okay, I guess. I still felt better than when I was drinking more consistently, but I didn’t feel totally free from alcohol. I was still giving alcohol too much of my mental space and energy because of constant bargaining. If I had two drinks this week, would I not drink next week? Or were two drinks okay? Did I still feel good, or was I slipping back into the muck of alcohol weighing me down? Was drinking at all serving me?

This went on through the summer and early fall until Thanksgiving Day. Typically, I buy a bottle of red wine and drink half of it (sometimes more) by myself. This time, I bought the bottle of wine, and I poured myself a glass with dinner as usual, figuring I’d nurse the rest of it throughout the week. But something was different. Immediately, I knew deep down I didn’t really want it, that perhaps my day would be just as enjoyable (or more!) without it. And while the first 10 or so minutes were just as enjoyable as the first 10 minutes of every glass of red wine, the sleepy, brain-foggy effects kicked in soon after and I began to realize that this wasn’t very enjoyable anymore. Had it ever really been? Wasn’t it true that alcohol had the same mind-dulling effects every time I drank? I had been told for years that a drink (or multiple drinks) would enhance my experience, when in reality, I could be in a dirty frat basement or on a yacht in the mediterranean, my mind still felt the same on alcohol.

The next morning, I dumped the rest of the bottle. I hadn’t yet made the decision to not drink again, but I had made the decision to not drink again for a while. And now here I am, 100 days in, with no plans to drink anytime in the near future.

I’ve learned so much in these 100 days. When I wrote that essay, I was only beginning to comprehend how good an alcohol free life was making me feel. Now I get it, and I still have so much to discover.

I know now that a previous version of me had been stuck in the throes of trying to moderate an addictive substance for years. Even in my thirties, after I had mostly grown out of the need to be drunk to have fun, I had spent so much time stuck in the back and forth mental gymnastics of alcohol. It’s evident from journal entries dating back to 2020 that I desperately wanted to cut back, which is when I first started creating the rules. But the problem wasn’t the rules, it was that the rules always changed. And that this type of moderation had the opposite effect of when I was drinking whenever I felt like it: I was now thinking about alcohol all of the time. It took up so much space in my mind to bargain with myself on when it was okay to have a drink and when it wasn’t. Now that I have cut it out completely, my entire perspective has changed. It’s not that I don’t get to drink but that I don’t have to drink. I don’t have to! Ever again, if that’s what I desire!

In the last few months, there have been many firsts. My first Christmas without alcohol, then my first New Year’s Eve. My first New Year’s Day without a hangover. My first hangout with my best friends alcohol-free. My first happy hour that didn’t end with me tired, hungry, and buzzed at 9pm. My first date at a restaurant. Many dates at a bar with my husband. My first birthday without alcohol. And now, my first vacation.

Nothing feels lacking in my life now that it is alcohol free. In fact, in so many ways, my life feels more abundant. By giving up alcohol, I’ve taken in peaceful evenings and clear headed mornings; glowing skin; more quality time spent with my husband and friends; more time reading, journaling, meditating, planning my future, and giving gratitude; increased energy and motivation; growing self-confidence and patience. I feel hydrated, nourished, and well-rested. Alcohol has taken so much of my time from me, and I’m now taking it all back in the deep care I’m giving to myself to live fully in this one abundant, fabulous life. 

If you’re just starting on a journey of cutting back or quitting alcohol, know that there are so many resources (not to mention amazing alternative drinks). Here are some that have helped and continue to help me on this journey:

(Book) This Naked Mind by Annie Grace

(Book) The Sober Lush by Amanda Eyre Ward and Jadine Libaire

(Podcast) The Sober Mom Life by Suzanne (@mykindofsweet and @thesobermomlife on Instagram)

In addition to above, there are several Instagram accounts that have kept me motivated, inspired, and laughing: @noboozebabes, @youdonthavetodrink, @eatlizabeth, @asobergirlsguide, @thatsoberglow, @the.soberbutterfly, @happiestsober, @donewithdebouchery… to name a few!)