Midlife Reset: How I Quit Drinking

— and Why I’m Still At It!

Photo by Alexandra Golovac on Unsplash

I haven’t had a drink in 19 months — that’s about 580 days.
If you’ve known me for any length of time, you’ll know what a seismic shift this is. Honestly, no one is more surprised than I am.

Turns out, a major life upheaval can be just the circuit breaker you need. For me, it was moving countries — from Australia to the US — that gave me the nudge to start looking at alcohol with fresh eyes.

I grew up in Australia, where drinking is basically a national sport. Alcohol wasn’t just a beverage — it was part of the fabric of our lives. From BBQs to birthdays, Friday knock-offs to long weekends, it was the social glue that held everything together.

Some of my earliest memories are of adults getting louder, funnier, looser as the drinks flowed. Clinking glasses meant the real fun had started. I learned early that alcohol made life lighter, brighter, easier. Or at least, it seemed that way.

Like many Aussies, I started young. And as a child of the '80s, parental supervision was... let's just say, relaxed. What began as a rite of passage quickly became a constant companion through my late teens and twenties. And honestly? Not gonna life, it was a lot of fun!

Of course, there were also rough mornings and moments I wished I could forget (and some I literally couldn’t remember). But I brushed it off — didn’t everyone have nights like that?

In my twenties, working corporate jobs, drinking wasn’t just common — it was expected. Conferences, work events, client dinners... saying no to a drink wasn’t even on the menu. And to be fair, I wasn’t exactly resisting.

Motherhood gave me a break for a while. Four pregnancies, breastfeeding... those years naturally slowed things down. But as soon as I could, I leaned on alcohol again — as a treat, a stress release, a reward for surviving the chaos of small kids. It lifted me up, dulled the edges, made everything feel a little easier... until it didn’t.

Motherhood also gave me a new set of eyes: my daughters, watching. I didn’t want them growing up thinking wine was the answer to every bad day — or the reward for every good one. I didn’t want to pass down the same complicated relationship I’d inherited.

The wake-up call came after a long lunch with friends. I ended up in a blackout, calling my husband but too out of it to tell him where I was. What might’ve once been brushed off as a “funny story” just felt terrifying. I woke up drenched in shame.

Not long after, we moved from Melbourne to San Diego for my husband’s job. New country, fresh start... but same old habits, right?

At a welcome dinner with our new neighbours, we rocked up with champagne and beers — ready to pop the cork. But they politely sipped water and smiled awkwardly. I remember thinking, God, they’re boring. In my world, drinkers were my people. She clearly wasn’t one of them. But that moment planted a seed.

As we settled into life in California, I noticed something: Americans drank differently. Alcohol wasn’t the main event — more like a background player. Birthdays here were celebrated with hikes and paddleboarding, not five-hour wine lunches. It made me reflect on just how much of my social life back home had revolved around drinking — and whether that was really working for me.

The more I paid attention, the louder the little voice inside got: Is alcohol really helping me? Or am I just afraid of what life looks like without it?

I tried moderation. No drinking on weekdays. Only weekends. Only two drinks. Only at special occasions. Blah blah blah.

Photo by Olena Bohovyk on Unsplash

Spoiler: it didn’t work. The tighter the rules, the more I found ways to bend them. It was exhausting — the constant negotiation with myself.

Eventually, I realised I needed a clean break. I signed up for Sober October. Just a month, I told myself. I’d done it before, no big deal.

But when the month ended… I didn’t want to go back. I challenged myself to three months. Then six.

Now, it’s been over 18 months.

One of my biggest motivators? My girls. I wanted to show them a different way to live. That you don’t need a drink in your hand to celebrate, to relax, to have a good time.

And something amazing happened: life got better. I became clearer, calmer, more present. I found connection in ways that didn’t revolve around clinking glasses.

Honestly, the timing feels right. Gen Z is drinking way less than we ever did. They’re seeing through the myth that alcohol is essential to fun or connection. Watching my daughters grow up in that world gives me so much hope. I want to be part of that change, too.

There were other reasons, of course. The health stuff — better sleep, more energy, lower risk of a dozen diseases. But one reason hits particularly close to home: my mum is currently living with Alzheimer’s. And knowing that alcohol is a risk factor for brain health — and for Alzheimer’s specifically — made the decision even clearer. I want to do everything I can to protect my brain. For me, and for them.

Do I miss it sometimes? Of course. There are still nights when a glass of wine sounds tempting. But the truth is, the romance has faded. I don’t crave it the way I used to.

I’m not saying I’ll never drink again. I just know I don’t want to drink now. Maybe it’ll be permanent, maybe one day I’ll choose to drink again — occasionally, mindfully. But forever feels like a long time. And life, right now, is good without it.

Oh — and if you’re curious, I recently shared more of this story on the This Naked Mind podcast with Annie Grace. I totally rambled at the start (I was so nervous — it’s weirdly exposing to talk about all this), but I really wanted to give something back.

If any part of my story resonates — or even just makes you curious — I’d love to hear your thoughts. Jump into the comments and let’s talk about it.

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