I did not think I looked like someone with an alcohol problem.
I worked. I functioned well. I took care of the things that needed to be done. From the outside, my life did not fit the version of alcohol dependency I had learned to recognise.
And because I did not identify with that picture, I could avoid asking a much more important question:
What was alcohol actually doing to my life?
That question came back to me recently while interviewing Perth-based English author, coach and founder of The Women’s Wellbeing Collective, Sarah Rusbatch.
Our conversation explored grey-area drinking, the labels we place around alcohol dependency, the way alcohol is marketed to women and why so many of us sense something is no longer right long before we are ready to call it a problem.
It was Sarah’s story to tell, but so much of what she said felt deeply familiar.
I Never Thought of Myself as an Alcoholic
I did not see myself as an alcoholic because I did not resemble the picture I had in my head.
I was not drinking in the morning. I was still working. I was not sleeping on a park bench or losing everything around me. I could point to the parts of my life that were functioning and use them as proof that I was okay.
But functioning is not the same as thriving.
Alcohol had gradually become woven into the rhythm of my days. It was something I relied on, anticipated and made space for.
It may have begun as a way to relax or soften the edges of a demanding day. Over time, it stopped being something I simply enjoyed and became something I felt I needed.
By then, it truly was taking the edges off feeling lost and directionless.
I was there for everyone else, but I had no real idea who I was, what I wanted or what my own future might look like.
There were afternoons when I would arrive home with the children after school or their activities and start drinking. Later, I would ring my husband and ask him to bring home a bottle of wine.
He did not know I had already drunk one and hidden the empty bottle.
That is hard to write, but it is the truth.
From the outside, my life still looked intact. On the inside, alcohol was taking up more and more room.
The Promises I Made Every Morning
Every morning, I would promise myself something different.
No wine tonight.
Or perhaps, Just one.
By later in the day, alcohol was often my first thought. Once I started, another familiar thought would appear:
I might as well finish the bottle now. There isn’t much left anyway.
This had become a pattern.
I wanted to drink less, yet kept drinking more than I intended. I could make a promise in the morning and break it that same evening.
Every broken promise quietly chipped away at my confidence and self-worth.
That was one of the less visible consequences of alcohol. It was not only what I drank. It was what repeatedly letting myself down did to the way I felt about myself.
The Label Can Become a Distraction
One of the most important parts of my conversation with Sarah was the question of how we define an alcoholic.
For many women, the word brings up a picture they simply do not recognise.
We may have jobs, families, responsibilities and social lives. We may drink good wine from a nice glass in a comfortable home. We may not have experienced the dramatic consequences we associate with addiction.
So we reassure ourselves that we cannot possibly have a problem.
But perhaps the label is not the most helpful place to begin.
Perhaps the better questions are:
Am I drinking more than I want to?
Do I find it difficult to stop once I start?
Am I organising parts of my day around alcohol?
Is it affecting my sleep, mood, health or relationships?
At the time, I would probably have said no to that final question. It was only when I stopped that I realised how much alcohol had affected all of those things.
Perhaps the most revealing question is:
Is alcohol genuinely helping me, or have I simply come to believe that I need it?
You do not need to fit a stereotype before questioning your relationship with alcohol. You do not need to wait until your life falls apart or decide what label applies before acknowledging that something may need to change.
Alcohol Has Been Normalised So Well
Alcohol is deeply embedded in our culture, particularly in the way it is marketed to women.
Wine is positioned as a reward for getting through the day. It is presented as self-care, stress relief and a deserved escape from the mental load of work, parenting and life.
“Mummy needs wine” is treated as funny and harmless.
But there is something uncomfortable beneath that message.
Women are often carrying an enormous amount, and instead of asking why we are depleted, overwhelmed or struggling, we are sold alcohol as the answer.
I believed alcohol helped me cope.
What I can see now is that it was steadily reducing my ability to cope.
It offered temporary relief, but it did not restore me or resolve what I was feeling. It simply postponed it while adding consequences of its own.
There is also a strange contradiction in the way we talk about alcohol.
Women can be judged harshly if they drink too much, yet questioned when they decide not to drink at all.
Why aren’t you having one?
Just one won’t hurt.
Alcohol is the only drug people routinely question you for not taking.
Menopause Can Be a Moment of Reckoning
For many women, the menopause transition is when alcohol begins to feel different.
Sleep may already be more fragile. Anxiety can feel louder. Mood, energy and recovery may be less predictable.
The wine that once seemed to help us unwind can leave us waking during the night, feeling flat the next day or less resilient than we would like.
This does not mean alcohol is responsible for every symptom, and it does not mean every woman needs to stop drinking. But it may be one part of the picture that is too easily overlooked.
We can spend a great deal of time searching for supplements, food strategies and other answers while avoiding the habit we are least willing to examine.
That is not a judgement. I understand it completely.
Alcohol can become associated with identity, friendship, relaxation and belonging. Questioning it can feel like questioning how we socialise, celebrate or cope.
But the menopause transition can also invite us to look honestly at what supports the woman we are becoming—and what no longer does.
Understanding What Was Happening in My Brain
A significant shift came when I learned more about dopamine and the way repeated alcohol use affects the brain’s reward system.
I also came to understand that my dependency was behavioural rather than chemical.
That realisation made me mentally stronger. It helped me see that this was a learned relationship and that, to move forward, I needed to break it fully.
I even gave the voice of dopamine a name.
I called him Gerry.
Whenever Gerry appeared and tried to persuade me that a drink would be a good idea, I could recognise what was happening and tell him off.
Instead of thinking, This is what I want, I could think, This is Gerry showing up again.
That separation was powerful.
I knew I could not keep one foot in the relationship and expect it to lose its hold over me. The whole relationship had to be removed.
Understanding dopamine also helped me move away from seeing my behaviour as a failure of willpower.
It did not remove my responsibility, but it helped me see that I was not weak, broken or lacking discipline. My brain had learned to expect alcohol as part of its reward and relief system.
Instead of only asking why I could not control myself, I could begin asking what support, structure and change I needed.
What I Gained, and What I Lost
Giving up alcohol was not simply about removing a drink.
It meant losing a familiar ritual, a way of switching off and something that had become entwined with my evenings.
I understand that loss.
Even when something is harming us, removing it can still leave a gap.
But giving up alcohol was also the beginning of rebuilding my confidence, self-worth and trust in myself.
It gave me clarity and consistency. It allowed me to follow through on the promises I made to myself.
It gave me a sense of purpose and helped me imagine what my future could look like.
It gave me the clarity to change my nutrition, my movement and the direction of my life. It became part of a much larger transformation that eventually led me to create Simply Nourish and support other women through the menopause transition and beyond.
Most importantly, my life began to expand again.
Throughout all of this, my husband has been my constant, unwavering support system. His support is part of my story too.
You Are Allowed to Become Curious
My story is not everyone’s story, and I would never suggest that every woman who drinks has a dependency.
But there is a great deal of space between the labels of “normal drinker” and “alcoholic.”
Within that space are many women who are functioning, coping and quietly wondering whether alcohol is taking more from them than they are willing to admit.
You do not need to reach rock bottom before making a change.
You do not need to prove that your drinking is bad enough or make a lifelong declaration today.
You are allowed to become curious.
Notice when you drink, why you drink and how you feel afterwards.
Ask whether alcohol is helping your sleep, anxiety, energy and health, or making them harder to manage.
Notice whether it has become your first thought and whether you are keeping the promises you make to yourself.
You can take a break and observe what changes. You can reach out for support without first deciding what label applies to you.
And if you are physically dependent on alcohol or concerned about stopping safely, please seek medical support rather than trying to manage it alone.
The question does not have to be:
Am I an alcoholic?
It may simply be:
Is alcohol still compatible with the life and future I am trying to build?
For me, the answer eventually became clear.
Although giving it up was one of the hardest things I have done, it also became one of the most important foundations of the life I have now.
My conversation with Sarah Rusbatch reminded me why this discussion matters so much.
Sometimes the first step is not admitting that everything is falling apart.
Sometimes it is simply becoming honest about what is no longer working.
Listen to Sarah Rusbatch's interview on my podcast Menopause: Through & Beyond - Spotify, Apple & YouTube
