Yesterday, I turned 34. Another trip around the sun. Another year of lessons, growth, healing, mistakes, accomplishments, and everything in between.
But this birthday felt a little different from the ones before it. This was my first birthday sober.
And you know what? It was a pretty wonderful birthday.
I spent Saturday at the Renaissance Fair, which was genuinely one of the best times I've had in a while. There's something about getting dressed up, stepping away from everyday responsibilities, and spending the day enjoying something completely different that makes you feel like a kid again. It was exactly the kind of fun I needed.
Then came Sunday, my actual birthday, and how did I celebrate turning 34?
By doing absolutely nothing. Seriously. I spent the day at home, relaxing, or as I truly like to call it, "rotting." And I enjoyed every second of it.
This time of year is incredibly busy for our family. between the kids, their activities, school, work, and the million other things that seem to fill our calendars, there aren't many opportunities to simply exist without having somewhere to be or something that needs to get done.
So, for my birthday, that's exactly what I did. No elaborate plans. No running around. No pressure to make the day something extraordinary. Just a quiet day at home, enjoying the opportunity to slow down.
Honestly? I couldn't have asked for much more.
But beyond the relaxing weekend and another birthday under my belt, there's something else I've been reflecting on. This was my first birthday without alcohol, a complicated relationship with something I enjoyed.
Before I get too far into this, I want to clarify something. Sobriety hasn't necessarily been difficult for me. I haven't spent every day fighting the urge to drink, nor has alcohol been something I felt I needed to function.
But that doesn't mean my relationship with alcohol hasn't been complicated.
Alcoholism runs in my family, particularly on my mom's side. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand how alcohol could affect people, relationships, and families. Those experiences shaped me in ways I probably didn't fully understand until I became an adult myself and yet, I've always enjoyed alcohol. I enjoyed having a glass of wine after a long day. I enjoyed drinking socially, celebrating special occasions, or simply sitting down in the evening with a glass of something I liked. Alcohol was often associated with relaxation, socializing, and unwinding. I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with that for people who have a healthy relationship with it.
For me, I also know that my experiences with alcohol haven't always been positive. I've had my dark moments. Moments when alcohol and my emotions weren't exactly the best combination. Moments when I made decisions I wasn't proud of. Moments when drinking didn't help whatever I was feeling, but instead made things worse. I'm not going to pretend those moments didn't happen, because they did. They're part of my story.
But something I've learned over the years is that we don't have to remain the people we were during our worst moments. We can acknowledge our mistakes, learn from them, and make different decisions moving forward, and that's exactly what I've been trying to do.
When a Glass of Wine Still Sounds Lovely, here's where I want to be completely transparent.
There are still moments when a glass of wine sounds absolutely wonderful. Sometimes it's after an incredibly exhausting day. Sometimes it's when the house is finally quiet, the kids are settled, and I can finally sit down after what feels like a never-ending day. Other times, it's simply because I genuinely enjoyed having a glass of wine.
And occasionally, those moments make me feel weak.
I find myself wondering why I would even entertain the thought of drinking when I've made the conscious decision to stop, but then I remind myself of something I've talked about in previous blog posts.
Not every thought or feeling requires an action. Just because something sounds appealing doesn't mean I have to act on it, and just because I miss something I once enjoyed doesn't mean I'm making the wrong decision by leaving it behind.
I think we sometimes create unrealistic expectations for ourselves when it comes to personal growth. We believe that once we've made a positive change, the thoughts or desires associated with our old habits should disappear entirely, but growth doesn't necessarily work that way.
Sometimes growth is simply recognizing a familiar thought, acknowledging it, and deciding not to act on it, and every time I have one of those moments, that's exactly what I do. I remind myself why I made this decision (in addition to current medication disagreeing with alcohol), and how good I feel because of it, not because I'm forcing myself to live without something I desperately need, but because I've realized that I don't need it at all in the grand scheme of things.
I've experienced some incredibly dark moments in my life. I've struggled with my mental health, made mistakes, and had to work through situations I never imagined I'd face. There were times when I wasn't sure what my future would look like.
And now, here I am. 34 years old. Building a life with my family, continuing my education, working toward my goals, finding joy in the little things, and becoming more comfortable with the person I am.
So, here's to 34.
To another year of learning, growing, healing, and finding peace in the little things.
To breaking patterns without forgetting where I came from.
To acknowledging my past without allowing it to dictate my future.
To enjoying life exactly as it is, without feeling like something is missing.
And to finally giving myself permission to say something I probably don't say nearly enough.
I'm proud of the woman I'm becoming. This birthday didn't come with a glass of wine, a fancy party, or some extravagant celebration. It came with a wonderful weekend, a clear mind, a grateful heart, and a whole lot of relaxation.
And honestly? That was more than enough.
Cheers to 34, with a different kind of glass this year. ❤️
