The story of my relationship with alcohol starts long before I took my first drink. Growing up, alcohol was a constant presence in my life. I grew up on a very small farm, the oldest of three children in a middle-class family where drinking was not just common but expected. My mother's side of the family had a history marked by alcohol-related deaths, but this wasn’t something that was openly discussed, and it certainly didn’t seem to put anyone off alcohol.

As a child, I observed how alcohol was seamlessly woven into the fabric of daily life. It was there on high days and holidays and pretty much all the days in between. There was never a question of whether to offer a drink to guests—if someone came to visit after five o'clock, a drink was de rigeur. And my brother and I got into trouble one day when we called the vet out, in my parents’ absence, to help with a difficult calving. They weren’t cross that we’d called the vet out (expensive though that would have been), but because we’d only offered him a cup of tea afterwards and not a ‘proper drink’. This environment shaped my early perceptions of alcohol, making it seem like an essential part of adult life.

My Teenage Years: Early Encounters with Alcohol

My first real encounters with drinking alcohol myself came during my teenage years. It didn’t take long for me to see booze as a way of fitting in and becoming part of the crowd.My friends and I spent a lot of time at our local pub where the landlord, knowing our parents, conveniently overlooked the fact that we were underage. We felt grown-up, sophisticated even, sipping our Cinzano and lemonades or Bailey’s Irish Cream. It was sweet and easy to drink, which suited my young palate perfectly.

Looking back, it’s clear that my early drinking was less about enjoying the taste and more about the social connection it facilitated. Alcohol made it easier to bond with others, to feel included, and to mask the insecurities of adolescence. But what started as an innocent way to fit in gradually laid the groundwork for a more complex and troubling relationship with booze.

University, and a year in Cognac

I studied French at University, and that involved spending a year in France. The system was that you applied to work in a school but had very little control over where you were sent. As luck would have it (and I did see it as luck, at the time), I was allocated a school in Cognac. Another place where drinking was routine. The whole town has the heady aroma of aging brandy—the “angels’ share,” as it was romantically called. I loved it there, and once the school year was over, I got a job working for one of the big Cognac houses…more opportunities to drink!

The Advertising Industry: A Culture of Excess

After university, I started working in the advertising industry, which is notorious for its hard-partying culture. Here, alcohol was not just part of the job—it pretty much was the job. Long, boozy lunches with media-owners were the norm, and drinking during work hours was almost expected. I took to this lifestyle like a duck to water, and it wasn’t long before I was drinking heavily most days. A gin and tonic at lunch, followed by wine, and maybe a port afterwards, was routine. By the time I got home, via the pub, I’d probably consumed what is now the recommended weekly limit of alcohol—14 units—in a single day.

At this point, I was functioning well in my career. I was successful, getting promoted and winning awards. On the surface, everything seemed fine, but internally, I began to notice troubling signs. My thoughts were increasingly consumed by alcohol. I would anxiously anticipate the next drink, often feeling uneasy when there was a lull between drinks. Social gatherings revolved around alcohol, and my tolerance continued to grow, pushing me to drink more to achieve the same effects.

Drinking alone and blackouts

My husband was away a lot with work, and with two small children at home, I began drinking at home and on my own. If John was at home, I made an effort to conceal from him how much I was drinking. And I had a few blackouts, by which I mean nights where I simply couldn’t remember what happened at the end of the night. They were mostly at home, so we're not talking putting myself into huge danger, but I was a mother of two small children and it’s not good to be blacked out. As far as I can recall, I never did that when I was on my own with them, thankfully, because I would feel really guilty about that. I do certainly remember some very drunken dinner parties and I had this rather gross habit… After people had gone, I would be clearing up and I would just hoover up whatever was left in glasses and things that people hadn't drunk. Disgusting! But when you're very drunk already, you don't think about that. You just think, there's a bit more wine, I'll have that. And that's the state that I was in. Alcohol really had got control over me.

Recognising the problem and the search for help

By the early 2000s, I realized that I had a problem and I thought, I better do something about this. This is not healthy and this is not how I want to be. My start point was AA, but I struggled with the program. The idea of standing up and declaring myself an alcoholic didn’t resonate with me. I had this image of an alcoholic as someone who had hit rock bottom, who had lost everything due to their drinking. While my life was far from perfect, I hadn’t experienced those dramatic lows.

I now understand that alcoholism exists on a spectrum, a concept that was foreign to me at the time. My drinking was problematic, but it didn’t fit the traditional mould of what I thought alcoholism looked like. This made it difficult for me to fully engage with AA’s approach. The idea that I had to accept an identity that didn’t feel right kept me from embracing the program’s methods. I struggled on with AA for around two years, and managed to string together short periods of sobriety, but would keep going back to drinking.

I’d been reading ‘quit lit’ books for a while, and finally came across Alan Carr’s The Easy Way to Control Alcohol. The book offered a new way of thinking about alcohol, one that didn’t rely on sheer willpower or deprivation. Instead, it encouraged a mindset shift, helping me see alcohol for what it truly was—a substance that was controlling me, rather than something I was in control of. The Alan Carr clinic in London offered hypnotherapy to stop drinking, and as I’d successfully given up smoking this way, I signed up.

And it really helped me – the messages about alcohol being a poison were lodged deep into my subconscious and I didn’t drink, or even think about drinking, for over 7 years. I believed then that I had broken free from the grip that alcohol had had on my life.

The Triple Whammy

2013 was not a good year. My marriage ended and I was dealing with significant financial problems. But I didn’t drink. I didn’t even drink when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in January 2014.

But when I was told that it had spread to all the lymph nodes that they had tested, it all became too terrifying, and I turned to alcohol to numb the fear.

Although I didn’t drink a lot over the next few months, alcohol was back in my life, and once I was better, I kind of picked up where I’d left off. Back to the miserable cycle of drinking in the evening, waking up next day feeling awful and vowing not to drink that day, but with a glass of wine on my hand by supper time, and hating myself for it. The self-loathing and shame were awful.

Finding Freedom through This Naked Mind

By this time, I knew I had a serious problem, and I would google things like ‘Am I an Alcoholic’ (ironic, eh, from the girl who had left AA because she wouldn’t identify as an alcoholic!) One day, my google search led me to This Naked Mind. And anybody who's ever come across This Naked Mind will know that once you've clicked on one of their ads, that's it. They are really good at working out all these algorithms and at making sure that you get the help you need. I kept being served ads and eventually, particularly hung over one day, I clicked on something and booked myself onto a three month course with them. And that was absolutely game -changing for me. The recommendation was to read the book This Naked Mind by Annie Grace, before starting the course, which I did.  I loved the blame-free approach and learning that this was not my fault and I was not defective, weak or pathetic. I was simply a human being who had become addicted to a substance that is addictive to humans.

I was joyfully alcohol-free well before the end of that three -month course. I simply didn't want to drink anymore. One of the big differences with This Naked Mind and say AA is the focus is on being free rather than on being sober. Now that might sound like semantics, but to me, sober is boring. Free is anything but boring. That's exciting. It’s about opening things up. I began to see how I had used alcohol to cope with stress, anxiety, and feelings of inadequacy. I had convinced myself that I needed it to relax, to socialize, to be myself. But in reality, alcohol was a barrier, keeping me from fully engaging with life and from addressing the issues that truly mattered.

Recovery is not a one-time event but a journey that requires ongoing commitment and self-reflection. For me, this journey has been about more than just quitting alcohol—it’s been about reclaiming control of my life, about living intentionally, rather than reacting to stress and emotions by reaching for a drink.

I learned to navigate social situations without a drink in hand, to deal with the awkward questions and sometimes judgmental looks from others who didn’t understand my choice to stop drinking. I’ve discovered new ways to cope with stress, to relax, and to connect with others that don’t involve alcohol. I’ve reconnected with activities that I love, like reading, walking, and spending time in nature. These things bring me a sense of peace and fulfillment that alcohol never could.

One of the most powerful tools I’ve found in my recovery is mindfulness. Learning to be present with my thoughts and feelings, without judgment, has helped me to better understand my triggers and to deal with them in healthier ways. When I feel stressed or anxious, I now pause and ask myself what I’m really feeling and what I really need. Often, the answer is something that alcohol could never provide—connection, rest, or simply a moment of calm.

Living Alcohol-Free: The Freedom I Never Expected

Today, I live an alcohol-free life, and I can honestly say that I am happier and more at peace than I ever was when I was drinking. The freedom that comes with not being controlled by alcohol is a constant source of joy. I no longer wake up feeling guilty or ashamed, no longer experience the anxiety that used to creep in after a night of heavy drinking.

Breaking free from alcohol has also allowed me to connect more deeply with others. I’m no longer hiding behind a glass of wine, no longer using alcohol as a crutch to get through social situations. I’ve learned to be more authentic, to show up as myself, and to engage with others in a more meaningful way.

 Advocating for Change

One of the reasons I share my story is because I want to help change the narrative around alcohol use disorder. There is so much shame and stigma associated with drinking problems, and this often keeps people from seeking help. I know it kept me from reaching out for far too long.

I want others to know that they are not alone, that it’s okay to struggle, and that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Recovery looks different for everyone, and that’s okay. Whether it’s through AA, hypnotherapy, books, coaching or something else entirely, the important thing is to find what works for you.

If there’s one message I hope to convey, it’s that you don’t have to wait until you hit rock bottom to make a change. If you feel that alcohol is controlling your life, even in small ways, it’s worth exploring your relationship with it. There’s a whole world of possibilities on the other side of alcohol, and it’s a world full of freedom, connection, and peace.

In sharing my journey, I hope to inspire others to take that first step towards a healthier, happier life. It’s not easy, and it won’t happen overnight, but it is possible. And in the end, the freedom you gain is SO worth it.