I had my first daughter in 2018, and after bringing my sweet baby girl home, I fell headfirst into the mommy wine culture.
You know the message: moms need wine to manage parenting, right?
At first, it felt almost like permission, lighthearted memes, wine-themed gifts, the idea that “it’s just what moms do.” But after a year of trying to make that lifestyle work, something inside me started to whisper that maybe it wasn’t working at all.
At first, I thought I just needed to become a “better drinker.”
So I made rules:
Water between drinks.
Big meal before drinking.
Not before 5 p.m.
Only on weekends.
And like clockwork, the rules inevitably failed time and time again.
Fast forward to 2021: I had my second daughter. A month after her birth, I woke up one morning and said, That’s it, I’m not drinking for 12 months. I was sick of tired of being sick and tired.
And I did. From September 2021 to September 2022, I was sober. And it was good, great, even. But something was missing: connection, purpose, and what I now call “the work.”
So, I went back to drinking. I didn’t have the tools or a support system to sustain it. And I told myself, If I can make it a year, it’s not really a problem.
The truth? Not having what many people view as a “rock bottom” can be its own challenge. Sobriety has to truly be a choice, but when you don’t have a crisis forcing your hand, you have to dig even deeper into why you’re choosing it.
These are the questions I had to ask myself:
1. What am I actually looking for in that glass?
Was it relaxation? A break? Permission to let go of the stress I carried all day? It was about escape.
2. If alcohol didn’t exist, what would I reach for instead?
Could I take a walk, read a book, call a friend, or just sit quietly? I realized I didn’t have a true “instead,” which was part of the problem.
3. Am I drinking for joy or just to change how I feel?
There’s a big difference between savoring joy and numbing discomfort. My glass(es) of wine wasn’t celebration, it was avoidance.
4. What would my days look like if I never drank again?
Would I be more present with my kids? Would I enjoy mornings again because I didn’t feel like total garbage? I pictured a version of me that didn’t have to negotiate with herself every day.
5. Who am I without alcohol in my life?
This one scared me. Without the glass in my hand, would I be boring? Would I lose friends? Would I be left out? Would people think I was a loser?
6. What if I did another year and just kept going?
Could I stop treating sobriety like a temporary experiment and start seeing it as a lifestyle? What would that commitment look like?
7. Do I really want to go through life giving only 60% (maybe less)?
I knew alcohol was holding me back, not just in parenting, but in ambition, creativity, and self-respect. I didn’t want “fine.” I wanted full.
8. Am I willing to miss out on those small, ordinary-but-beautiful moments because of alcohol?
Bedtime snuggles, belly laughs, random kid questions, a beautiful sunset. These things hit different when you’re fully there for them. I didn’t want to blur them away.
9. What message am I sending my daughters about coping, joy, and presence?
I’m their blueprint. Was I teaching them that adulthood means medicating stress, or that it’s possible to live fully without dulling the edges?
10. If I’m capable of more, why am I settling for less?
Sobriety showed me glimpses of my best self. Going back to drinking felt like shrinking back into a smaller version of me.
11. When I’m 80, what version of me will I be most proud of?
One day, I’ll look back. I want to know I chose the version of me who showed up, who was present, who lived her life to the fullest of her ability.
Asking, and honestly answering, these questions changed everything. They moved me from simply “not drinking” to actually building a life that didn’t require alcohol to feel whole.
If you’re in a season of questioning your relationship with alcohol, maybe these questions can be your starting point too.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.