I didn’t know it at the time, but I was learning a coping strategy.
Alcohol became my shortcut to feeling okay. When I felt anxious, awkward, overwhelmed, unsure of myself - drinking made it quieter. When I didn’t know how to talk about how I was feeling, drinking helped me avoid it altogether. It helped me feel confident when I wasn’t. Numb when life felt heavy. Normal when I didn’t.
What started as weekends quickly became a pattern. Binge drinking wasn’t something I questioned - it was just what we did. Nights out, celebrations, bad days, good days. Alcohol was always there, quietly stitching itself into every part of my life.
From the outside, everything looked fine. I worked, I showed up, I laughed, I functioned. But inside, alcohol was doing a job for me: it was self-medication. And the cost was subtle but constant - anxiety, low mood, broken sleep, regret, and a growing sense that I wasn’t really living, just getting through.
I told myself I didn’t have a “problem” because I wasn’t drinking every day. But the truth is, alcohol had a hold on me. I needed it to relax, to switch off, to feel comfortable in my own skin.
By 6 May 2023, something shifted. I don’t remember 100% what, but I know that that day was the King’s coronation. I think I just used it as an excuse to start drinking early and throw a party for very little reason. And halfway through the afternoon I just thought ‘why do I feel the need to do this?,’ it just didn't feel normal or "right" anymore for who I was.
Not rock bottom. Not a dramatic moment. Just a quiet, honest realisation: alcohol no longer served me - and maybe it never really had.
So I stopped.
Not to become a different person, but to finally meet the one I was numbing out for years. I thought I'd step away from alcohol for a while, but it just grew legs from there, and I’ve been alcohol-free since.
Here I am now, nearly three years on.
What I’ve learned is this: you don’t have to hit crisis to choose change. When starting out, I found it helpful to connect to others online who were also making changes, and this helped me to realise that giving up alcohol wasn't just for people that were “addicted1.” Sometimes clarity is enough of a motivation.
Knowing that I wanted change didn’t mean it was always easy. I remember that, very early in my journey, I felt a pressure to join in with the “norm” at friends and family get-togethers. It was a struggle and I felt super close to just having a beer to “fit in.” However, alcohol-free beers helped me overcome this as I could just get them in a normal pint glass and nobody knew any different. It’s also been reassuring that there seems to be more and more people following the alcohol-free movement now.
The positive impacts of my change showed up quietly at first - clearer thinking, a sense of pride coming back, deeper connections with the people I love. I remember seeing a lot online where other alcohol‑free people said “the best is yet to come,” and it turned out to be true.
Over the next couple of years, the benefits snowballed. My health improved drastically. I lost 14kg, worked through some of my mental health demons, gained confidence, and started to really understand who I am. Back when I was drinking, fertility tests didn’t look great - and now, nearly four years after we first started trying, my wife and I are excitedly expecting our first child in September 2026. It’s my proudest moment, and the thought of being a role model for them means everything.
These changes also inspired me to help others. I now support people through coaching, building confidence and helping them shape their own paths through difficult times. I don’t fly the alcohol‑free flag too high - everyone’s journey is different - but I definitely want to inspire positive change, however that looks for them.
1You can read more about the language used to talk about alcohol harm here.