The Shift: How I Drink With Intention, Not Sadness.
Growing up, alcohol wasn’t just something I saw at family gatherings — it was part of the atmosphere I absorbed without even realizing it. My mother had her own struggles, and watching her cope left an imprint on me. I didn’t always connect the dots as a child, but those early experiences shaped the way I handled stress and emotions later in life. Instead of facing difficult feelings head-on, I learned to push them down, to suppress them.
As I got older, alcohol became my way of doing the same thing. At first, it was casual — drinks with friends, parties, nights where laughter felt easier with a glass in my hand. But over time, it shifted. It wasn’t just about fun anymore; it became my shortcut to shutting off the world. Alcohol gave me that temporary silence when I didn’t know how to process the noise in my head.
It took me a long time to recognize that my relationship with drinking was less about socializing and more about avoidance. The signs were subtle at first: the mornings that felt heavy, the way my motivation dipped, the feeling of disconnect that lingered long after the buzz faded. And deeper than that, I noticed the energy I carried when I drank. It wasn’t lighthearted — it was heavy, sad, and rooted in escape.
What really made me pause was when someone I respected pointed it out. They weren’t cruel or judgmental; they were concerned. And it was the first time I allowed myself to sit with the question: Why am I drinking this way? That question planted a seed.
Since then, my relationship with alcohol has shifted. I won’t sit here and say I’m completely sober — because I’m not. I still drink. But the energy behind it is different now. I no longer reach for a glass to numb myself or to bury what I don’t want to feel. Instead, I try to check in with myself: Am I drinking because I want to enjoy the moment, or because I’m trying to escape something? That awareness changes everything.
Drinking doesn’t feel like a mask anymore. It’s something I can choose intentionally, not a habit I fall into by default. And the more I’ve grown, the more I realize that balance is just as powerful as abstinence. For me, it’s about energy. Am I drinking with joy, or am I drinking with sadness? That’s the line that matters.
These days, I fill my life with healthier outlets. I journal to get my thoughts out. I train and push my body to remind myself of my strength. I dance to release emotions in ways alcohol never truly could. These practices give me the clarity and grounding I once thought only a drink could provide.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that your relationship with alcohol doesn’t have to be all or nothing. It doesn’t have to be labeled “sober” or “reckless.” Sometimes it’s simply about being honest with yourself — about the why behind your choices. My journey hasn’t been about cutting alcohol out completely. It’s been about shifting from suppression to self-awareness, from drinking to escape pain to drinking with intention.
And that’s where the real freedom lives.
