The next night, I had my last drinking hurrah: my last glass of red wine with pasta at my fave Italian restaurant, followed by my last six-pack ever at home cranking my favorite headbanging jams. It was the victory lap of my life’s drinking games—a conscious, intentional, relatively graceful exit. Done! But then, when I got a DUI at 30, I knew I had to reel it in. That experience forced me to reconcile with the fact that alcohol only perpetuated the issues I used it to escape from, and if I kept going this way, it would take a serious toll on my health. The fact that I had to make a choice was suddenly totally clear. I could stop drinking and keep evolving toward my highest self, or I could keep drinking and consciously limit myself and my achievements in this lifetime. When I saw it that way, it really wasn’t a tough decision to make. Alcohol had to go. Three weeks later, I haven’t missed it one bit. My fear that life wouldn’t be as much fun has already transitioned into gratitude and appreciation for how present, clear, and focused I feel—and I recognize how fortunate I am to be having this experience because not everyone who tries to go sober does.
