This time of year is all about family, food… and booze.
We’re all more likely to pop open a bottle when we usually wouldn’t, or have that nightcap before bed.
But for Christine Coulson, a lifetime of drinking ended with one final cocktail-filled Christmas, and a New Year’s resolution she was determined to stick to.
‘I’d been telling myself my drinking was fine for a long time,’ she tells Metro. ‘But I wasn’t allowing myself to live a good life, because I was making the decision to sit on my sofa to drink.
‘Now, I’m more present for myself and the people I love. I have learned to like and accept myself, good and bad, and live a calmer, happier life.’
Christine started drinking, like most people, as a teenager at college.
‘I drank more at university, but that was fine because didn’t everyone?’ she says.
‘When I graduated and got a job in the finance industry in London, the boozy lunches could last all afternoon. One ‘lunch’ lasted 16 hours and that was normal. Everyone was at it, so it was fine.
‘I liked a glass of wine and thought champagne added to any occasion. I headed to the pub after work to wait for rush hour to end, not because I had a drinking problem.’
In 2012, aged 32, Christine left London and moved to Yorkshire, retraining as a radiographer.
‘I didn’t drink every day and never drank on work days. I drank alone at home sometimes, but not a crazy amount,’ she says. ‘On my days off, I couldn’t have one glass and go to bed knowing the rest of the bottle was in the fridge, but that was fine.’
But then came the pandemic, and Christine’s drinking habits changed once more.
‘Work was incredibly stressful and I lived alone, so to blot out the loneliness, worry and stress, I got drunk on Zoom quizzes and sitting on my sofa watching TV,’ she says. ‘All the rules of normality were thrown out the window.’
Her 40th birthday in lockdown was spent boozing at home.
‘It fell in May 2020, a week before we were allowed to see anyone we didn’t live with,’ Christine recalls.
‘I wasn’t legally allowed to celebrate with friends, so I cracked open the Clicquot champagne at 8.30am, wearing a birthday sash and taking a cheeky selfie raising my glass of bubbles to the camera.
‘I spent the day Zooming friends, drinking steadily but making light of it. It was a pandemic birthday, all bets were off.’
‘After all, I had planned to spend my birthday in Florence in Italy, so getting drunk alone at home felt like fair compensation. Who wouldn’t start the day with champagne when a global lockdown thwarted all other plans? I told myself it was fine, just as I always had.’
But as government restrictions on our time and movements eased, Christine’s drinking didn’t.
She says: ‘I was drinking more than ever. I promised myself I’d moderate, vowing I’d only drink twice a week and I wouldn’t drink before 4pm.
‘I set myself ridiculous limits that never came to anything because I was lying to myself.’
A year passed and her 41st birthday arrived.
‘I was embarrassed and annoyed by how many people gave me the gift of alcohol,’ she says. ‘Was that really all there was to me? Didn’t my friends know me better? Or did they know me too well?’
It was a time of self-reflection for Christine.
‘If I was honest with myself, I knew my friends planned their night around me, getting childcare sorted because they knew seeing me would be a big one.
‘They’d go home to their families, I’d spend the rest of the weekend drinking.’
By the end of 2021 Christine says she was ‘fed up’ with herself: ‘I felt puffy, my skin blotchy. I was sluggish and perpetually tired. I was bored and lonely. I wasn’t sleeping well.’
As she slowly began to question her drinking habits, Christine picked up a book, How to be a Mindful Drinker by Club Soda. It was reading this that helped Christine come to the realisation that she needed to quit for good.
‘I didn’t think I could moderate because I was not a one glass of wine sort of drinker,’ she says.
‘I was petrified in equal measure about quitting and not quitting. I didn’t know what my life would look like if I quit because I’d given alcohol such a starring role, but I was scared of what my future would look like if I didn’t.
‘It wasn’t fun anymore and it definitely wasn’t fine anymore.’
With Christmas approaching, Christine knew it would be a hard time to give up, so she set herself a state date of January 3, 2022, but kept her New Year’s resolution on the down low.
‘I decided to quit quietly,’ she says.
‘I knew a big announcement would only put me under pressure. I emailed my family and closest friends asking for their kind and patient support.
‘I didn’t want anyone to tell me they’d been worried about me and remind me of times when I did something bad when I was drunk. I didn’t remember those times and that was exactly the problem.’
Quiet quitting when viral in 2022, when TikTokers spoke of putting it into practice in the workplace.
@zkchillin described it as: ‘You’re not outright quitting your job, but you’re quitting the idea of going above and beyond. You’re still performing your duties, but you’re no longer subscribing to the hustle culture mentality that work has to be your life – the reality is, it’s not.’
It might be saying no to projects that aren’t part of your job description or you don’t fancy doing, leaving work on time, or refusing to answer emails and Slack messages outside of your working hours.
It could be as simple as a mindset shift, that’s not noticeable to anyone around you, but allows you to feel less mentally and emotionally invested in your job.
Since the trend gained prominence, it’s been applied to other areas of life, including relationships and travel.
A few weeks later, Christine took herself to a Bee Sober brunch she’d found out about through the Club Soda website. Bee Sober is an online community that supports members as they navigate an alcohol-free life.
‘I’d been sober 20 days and didn’t really feel I’d earned my place at a sober community event, but I was keen to push myself to have new experiences,’ she says.
‘I expected to meet weird, awkward types but everyone was so welcoming, kind, generous and accepting. They congratulated me on my 20 days and assured me I could do more.’
And she did. Now 44, Christine has been sober ever since.
‘I don’t miss alcohol. It didn’t add anything to my life, it only took away. I’ve lost some friendships which were founded on drinking, but I’ve gained many new ones through the sober sisterhood.
‘Because I talk openly about the benefits of quitting, I’ve had friends I haven’t spoken to in years get in touch to say I inspired them to drink less.’
Now, Christine enjoys a life that she didn’t think was possible.
‘Now, when I visit my parents by the coast, I’m at the beach at sunrise, whether that’s at 8am or 4.30am, summer or winter,’ she says.
‘I am the host of my local Bee Sober brunch in Sheffield and an ambassador for their community. I’m a trained sobriety coach and I help other people just like me, believe that they too can build a better life without alcohol.
‘I love yoga, breathwork and forest bathing – my 35 year old self would not believe it.
‘My skin is dewy, my eyes are sparkling. I think I look younger than I did twenty years ago.
‘I feel present and awake, not exhausted. I used to be reactive, emotional and anxious. Life was messy and chaotic, now it’s calm.’
But the biggest difference? ‘I like myself now,’ says Christine.
‘I wake up proud, not ashamed. I do better things with my time. When I stopped living to drink, I started living to the fullest.
‘My perfect birthday selfie now would be taken doing yoga, walking in the Peak District with friends or home with my cat, Aslan. Focused on my wellbeing, happy being me.’
Christine is an ambassador for Bee Sober, a friendly online community dedicated to normalising sobriety and making new friends. Visit beesoberofficial.com or on Instagram @beesoberofficial to connect and share your journey.
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2024-12-29T07:31:00Z