The Year Everything Shifted: Sobriety, Anxiety, and Starting Again
After ten years of trying to stop drinking, with plenty of failed attempts along the way, I’ve finally made it to a full year. I didn’t do this because I was a raging alcoholic, although in my early twenties I was usually the most drunk person at most parties. I did it because I wanted to commit myself fully to what has probably been the hardest yet most rewarding twelve months of my life. Change is never simple, but switching careers in your thirties has been the hardest endeavour I’ve taken on so far.
I now empathise much more deeply with anyone going through something similar. You lose a lot during this process, but you also gain a lot. It mirrors what happens when you give up alcohol: you lose the social connection it once gave you, but you meet new people, and you end up inspiring those closest to you as well as the new friendships you form along the way.
For me, drinking was mostly tied to anxiety. I relied on a three-to-four pint blanket to feel “normal” again, so this year has been about understanding where that anxiety actually comes from and gently working with it instead of suppressing it. In doing so, I’ve started to get a clearer understanding of myself.
This has involved feeling more of what it is like to be a human: lots of tears, more anger, and some joy (I’m still working on finding more of this). I guess giving up the booze has given me a clearer sense of what’s underneath it all — the human experience. It is a commitment to embodiment and living more on my own terms.
I’ve gone from working in a corporate office five days a week to working on my own terms, helping people on Harley Street feel closer to their soul’s mission. Quite a plot twist. With that shift comes a real sense of responsibility to show up as the best version of myself. It would be difficult to do what I do now — being with people in such an intimate setting — if I smelled of alcohol or was constantly hungover. Something had to give.
A big part of this last year has also been learning to regulate myself without alcohol, and breathwork has become the thing that actually gives me the space that drinking used to. Instead of reaching for a pint to settle my nerves, I’ve learned how to work with my breath to come back into my body, calm my anxiety, and make decisions from a clearer place. It’s been one of the most valuable practices in this whole process.
