Five and a half years ago, I never imagined I would stop drinking. I was a middle lane drinker, pouring a glass of wine after the kids were in bed to take the edge off. Back in 2020, COVID hit, the sun was shining and happy hour arrived earlier and earlier into my day. On the night of 12 June, after too much red wine, my 11-year-old son found me on the bathroom floor, covered in vomit. That moment changed everything.
I decided to take a tactical 90-day break. I chose that length because shorter breaks had never worked for me. Thirty days is powerful, believe me. It interrupts a habit, proves to you that you can do something hard, and for many people it is the first time in years they have gone without alcohol. That matters and it should definitely be celebrated. But for me, alcohol stayed mentally present, and I was always counting down. I told myself I would see how 90 days went and then I would be “fixed”.
The early weeks were hard. My sleep was broken. Cravings were loud. I had headaches and vivid dreams. Socialising felt awkward, and I was convinced I was missing out while everyone else carried on as normal.
But instead of giving up, I got curious.
I read. A lot. Books that challenged what I thought I knew about alcohol and helped me understand habit change, mindset, and identity. I journalled regularly, especially when cravings hit or emotions felt uncomfortable. Writing things down helped me see patterns rather than judge myself.
"Knowing I wasn’t alone mattered more than I realised at the time."
Support mattered too. I posted regularly in an online community I was part of, partly for accountability and partly because being honest kept me grounded. There was always someone whose story mirrored mine, and knowing I wasn’t alone mattered more than I realised at the time. I was understood.
I changed my routines. I joined a 5am Miracle Morning group, which gave my days structure and momentum. I joined a walking challenge where, as a group, we virtually walked from Land’s End to John O’Groats together. Moving my body gave me a sense of progress that alcohol never had.
I drank alcohol-free drinks, which genuinely helped in social situations and at home. Nowadays they are even better than they were back then. For a while, I avoided pubs altogether. Not forever, just long enough to get used to the fact I was no longer drinking and to rebuild trust in myself. Even now, I would much rather go hiking, cold water swimming, or meet for coffee and cake than sit in a pub.
I was also very aware of Alcohol Change UK’s work and the wider cultural conversation you have helped create around taking breaks from alcohol. That messaging helped validate the idea that choosing not to drink was a positive and legitimate choice, rather than something that needed justifying.
"I had more energy. Mornings felt lighter. My patience returned."
As the days passed, things got easier. I had more energy. Mornings felt lighter. My patience returned. I was living rather than recovering.
When I reached 90 days, something surprised me. I realised this wasn’t the end. The first 30 days were about stopping. The next 30 were about stabilising. And somewhere in the final 30, something deeper shifted.
My story wasn’t over. My body began to trust that this wasn’t just a break before going back to old habits. I stopped asking, “When can I drink again?” and started asking myself, “What’s next for me?”.
I decided to go for 365 days sober. Over the next year, the changes compounded. I invested in myself. I bought a house. I took on physical challenges I never thought I would complete. I progressed in my career. I went back into education alongside full-time work. I lost weight through consistency, not punishment. I built routines that supported me rather than drained me.
"Sobriety had given me all the things alcohol promised but never delivered."
And somewhere along the way, the penny dropped. Sobriety had given me all the things alcohol promised but never delivered. Confidence. Calm. Energy. Connection. Self-trust.
Five and a half years later, new benefits still emerge. But the biggest one is simple:
I found myself again.
Last year, I retrained as an alcohol-free performance coach to help people like me, juggling life, work, and the pressure to drink, find a healthier relationship with alcohol. And I love seeing the change in people who didn’t think it was possible.
Something I’ve always leaned into: “Stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit, it’s when things seem worst, that you must not quit”. - Don’t Quit, by Edgar A Guest.
If you are interested, you can watch my TEDx talk here.
Nikki is on Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.