A Quiet Freedom Being Alcohol Free

Letting Go Without Escaping

It was the early morning start I had been dreading for a while. I was dropping my son at the airport for his six-month travel adventure. There are some goodbyes that hit harder than others – the ones where you realise you won’t be there guiding the next steps, only trusting that what you’ve given them will carry them forward.

Airports are emotional places. There’s a lot going on — excitement, nerves, sadness, hope – all travelling through the same space. As I waved him off and watched him disappear through to security, I felt very proud.

We drove home. The car felt very quiet without our additional nervous and excited passenger, and the tears that I had been holding in came out.

In the past, moments like that would have left me searching for a way to “take the edge off later”. Something to soften the feeling, quiet the noise, blur the sad goodbye.

That something was always wine.

This time, it wasn’t.

Life Before Just The Tonic

Before joining Just The Tonic, I felt stuck. Life looked fine from the outside. Inside, everything already felt written, as though this was it.

Alcohol sat there quietly inside everything. It offered relief for a while – a way to switch off or feel different – before returning me to the same place again. Over time, drinking took over. It affected my sleep, my mood, and how much I was showing up for my own life.

I got through the days, but I was always tired, anxious, and disappointed with myself.

I thought alcohol was the only way to socialise and make everything “more fun”. I didn’t think I could enjoy myself or belong without it. The idea of going out without alcohol felt awful, as though I’d lose a version of who I was.

Days blurred into a familiar cycle: drinking to switch off or have fun, promising myself I would change, and then doing the same thing again.

I told myself I was weak. That I lacked discipline. That other people managed just fine, and I should be able to as well.

I felt ashamed.

Discovering a Different Way to Stop Drinking

Then I read an article by someone who had been through the JTT programme. By this time, I was spending a lot of effort just trying to hold things together. I found out more – and took the plunge.

It felt like someone finally understood how I was stuck inside.

Instead of focusing on rules or willpower, the course encouraged curiosity about habits, stress, and how alcohol affects the brain and nervous system. Understanding this helped me see why willpower alone had never worked, and why the constant push-pull in my head had been so exhausting.

For the first time, my behaviour made sense.

I wasn’t broken.
I wasn’t failing.

What a relief.

Why Alcohol Feels So Hard to Question

I’d always known alcohol was addictive. What I hadn’t realised was how powerfully that pull is reinforced – socially encouraged, part of everyday life, and rarely questioned.

It’s how we mark the end of the day.
It’s how we cope.
It’s how we connect.

Choosing not to drink can feel like the unusual choice – the one that needs explaining.

Being part of a group sharing honestly, without judgement, labels, or pressure, made it easy to be real. Everyone’s story was different, but there was a shared sense of not having to pretend.

We just got each other.

That support has been incredible.

What Life Looks Like Alcohol-Free

Stopping drinking didn’t fix everything. Life still happens. It isn’t magic.

But it removed the one thing that made everything harder.

And that opened the door to so much good stuff.

The good stuff!

I’m happier and calmer now. I notice it in the small things – the days that are no longer spent in recovery mode, the clear head when I wake up, the extra energy. I laugh more. I sleep better.

My relationships have changed in ways I didn’t expect. I’m more patient and less grumpy (I think my husband and children would agree!). Plans are easier because I’m not distracted by planning the next drink.

The guilt and sadness that used to sit there in the background have gone.

Socialising without alcohol? Turns out it can be great fun. I’ve discovered I can enjoy myself without needing a drink. Waking up knowing where all my belongings are and remembering all the conversations I had the night before will never get old.

A Quiet Freedom — And What Comes Next

If you’ve ever wondered if change is possible – it is.

And it can become your quiet freedom.

I will always feel grateful that I celebrated 100 days alcohol-free just before my son left, because I was fully there with him. Driving away from the airport that day, I realised I wasn’t trying to escape anymore.

I felt safe.
And ready for what’s next.

My son’s journey was just beginning.

And in a different way, so was mine.