SHARON HARTLEY: Looking ahead to the top of Dry January? If you actually need your life to vary, this is the EXACT variety of days you could stop – and why…

As January draws to a close, nine million Brits are this week thinking about pouring their first glass of wine of the year. If you’re one of them, I’m here to ask you whether you really want to – or whether you’d rather hang on to the beautiful new life without alcohol you’re just beginning to discover.

For, believe me, the calm, health-filled, bank-boosting no-booze world you’ve dipped your toe into only gets better the longer you’re in it…

It also gets easier. I did Dry January often, and Sober October too, and I well remember the feelings of boredom and self-denial in those early days. But the truth is, as the month ends, you’re only just beginning to reap the benefits – and some take much longer to kick in, especially if you were drinking like I was before. In other words, a lot.

I started experimenting in my teenage years during the 1980s and ’90s. Remember Castaway, the fruit-flavoured wine?

I had an off-switch in my twenties, however, and a lot of the time I could take it or leave it. But somewhere between 30 and 44 that switch got firmly stuck. Any excuse would do: drinks after work at the radio station where I was a producer. Prosecco on a Saturday shopping trip. A bottle of wine at the school fundraiser, the local village fete, a kid’s birthday party. Or just Friday night in, starting with a couple of raspberry vodkas in the bath.

I lost count of the number of times I read ‘best night ever’ in the group chat after a night out with the girls, but for me it felt hazy and anxiety-inducing. What had I done? Got drunk, yes, but had I also made a horrible fool of myself?

I have three children, aged 23, 21 and 16, and at our youngest’s christening in 2008, I had to be helped down the stairs of the venue where we were celebrating because, yet again, I’d had (more than) one too many.

As if that wasn’t enough, I found myself having to plan the days after a binge or a ‘sesh’ because I knew I’d feel like I’d been freshly dug up. Often I developed a mystery illness in the morning because I knew I couldn’t drive on the school run. As I retched over the kids’ breakfast, I’d promise myself that enough was enough – but roll on 5 o’clock and I’d already be checking I had wine in the fridge.

Yes, I was that idiot on social media holding a large fishbowl of fruit-infused ‘posh’ gin up in the air declaring ‘Chin, chin – it’s 5 o’clock somewhere!’, ‘Happy Sunday!’, ‘Oh, I’ve earned THIS ONE!’, ‘ … and RELAX!’

But what those photos didn’t show you was my bloated, balloon face behind the glass, nor my wobbly wine belly. It sure as hell didn’t show you the misery of the hangover I’d suffer later.

So I’d do Dry January. And by and large I’d hate it. I hated not knowing how to switch off on a Friday night. I hated not having a buzz. I felt exhausted too. No matter how much I slept I just couldn’t shake the tiredness as my knackered middle-aged body began to heal after years of having to cope with the alcohol. Thirty days was just long enough to prove that I could manage without booze – and then I’d dive straight back into drinking again.

And then something magical happened. In 2018, at the age of 45 and feeling the effects of my pink wine habit even more acutely than before, I decided not just to take a month off but at least three months instead. To reset my approach to booze entirely.

And at 100 days, the world changed.

It began to expand, get brighter, and clearer and more exciting – so I carried on going, and going, until I had better friendships, more time, a bigger bank balance, clearer skin, a happier family and a running habit.

What I found was myself again, and I haven’t had a drink since in over seven years.

100 days is the tipping point – everyone says the same. Keep going!

What to do now 

• Hopefully you’ve unfollowed all the ‘mummy drinking culture’ accounts on social media already. If not, do that now and replace them with sobriety accounts.
• If this is the first time in a very long time you’ve managed four weeks without alcohol, celebrate with cake or buy yourself a new book. You’ve already done better than most – the average Brit attempting Dry January lasts just ten days.
• Book in nice things to do on Saturday morning. There is nothing quite like the feeling of waking up the morning after the night before when you’ve chosen not to drink, and the Saturday smugness I felt proved a great reward. Schedule an early catch-up with a friend and cultivate a posh hot chocolate habit.
• To bolster your resolve – and if the people around you are starting to drink again – choose something from the impressively wide range of alcohol-free dupes out there. A no-alcohol beer means you can still do Saturday takeaway night in front of the telly, or if your thing is cooking a Sunday roast with a bottle of red on the go, choose an alcohol-free bottle instead.

How you’ll feel 

• I found two things happened during the first 30 days of no-booze. First I often burst into tears for no good reason. In the early days the emotions can hit you from nowhere. And second, I was exhausted. So tired, I couldn’t make good use of the sudden acreage of free time I had now it wasn’t consumed by drinking or hangovers. But a month in, boom – you’ll be amazed by how much you get done.
• And that’s because, all of a sudden, you’re getting proper sleep. Going to bed with a belly full of booze means sleep can be fitful, erratic and disturbed. But after four weeks of sleeping sober, you’ll find it’s deep, restorative and unbroken. (One note: you might at first experience some weird drinking dreams. I can offer no credible or scientific explanation for this. All I know is that once or twice I woke up panicked before the absolute relief of knowing I had in fact gone to bed sober kicked in!)
• Drinking-related aches and pains disappear. I used to get an acid-type burning in my chest, for example, and throbs in places I shouldn’t. After a particularly boozy do, I’d have pains and bruises that I couldn’t account for, caused by falling over and into things while sloshed. As if by magic, all this stopped.

What to do in two weeks’ time

• By mid-February, the WhatsApp groups will be buzzing again. And you can’t use Dry Jan as an excuse anymore. Form a plan for what to say when you do go out and people say ‘you’ve done more than a month, you might as well celebrate with a drink’, which they will.  White lies work. ‘I am taking some medication and drinking is not recommended.’ ‘I’m training for a half-marathon/sponsored bike ride/to become a chess grandmaster and I need to be on my A-game.’ Or you could simply say you’re bored with drinking and now realise how much better you feel without it. Just make sure you have a firm follow-up ‘No, really’ practised and ready to go in your head, in response to anyone who persists in offering you ‘just a small one!’
• Remind yourself why you’re doing it. Our reasons are personal to all of us. We might want to be calmer and less shouty around the kids. Have more energy and motivation at work. Be brighter and feel healthier. Dedicate more time and effort to our relationship, or just live at a 9 or 10 rather than 6 or 7. Stick with it now and all this can be yours.

How you’ll feel 

• By now you’ll definitely start to see what I call the ‘glimmers’. These are the hints of your bright new, no-booze future – little micro-moments of joy that often go unnoticed when your senses are dulled by regular drinking. If you find yourself walking down the road with a new spring in your step, take note. If you realise you are singing happily along to the radio while cooking, enjoy the moment and turn up the volume. If you try something new you wouldn’t have done before and really enjoy it – running, cracking open a 500 page novel, bird-watching in the back garden – send a loved one a message to tell them about it. These moments add up; they show you that you are on the right track.
• If you’re a woman in mid-life who’s been drinking regularly for a good number of years and you’re now in the madly confusing throes of perimenopause, removing a daily wine habit or regular weekend binge will give you the best chance to get through it in the best possible shape. So many of the unpleasant effects alcohol causes are mirrored and made worse during perimenopause. Hot flushes, sleep problems, the ability of the liver to metabolise alcohol (and hormones) – all get worse if you add booze into the midlife equation too. Remove it and you can focus on the symptoms you’re left with, meaning any medical help you get will be treating only hormonal issues and not those caused by booze. It’s truly the best gift of self-care you can give to yourself.

What to do in a month’s time 

It’s the end of February and perhaps you’re beginning to feel a bit complacent about this sobriety game. But at any point you can be assailed by a trigger – those people, days of the week, moods or even weather patterns that set off a craving for a drink. So stay vigilant by working out what yours is. Mine was always a sunny day and the prospect of a glass of cold white in the garden. But others might be a bad day at work, a particular pub, an old friend you haven’t seen for a while, or a four day bank holiday weekend.

• Consider reinforcing your resolve by reading some Quit-lit, the broad title given to books about giving up drinking. If you’re interested, the first quit-lit book I ever read was Catherine Gray’s The Unexpected Joy of Being Sober.
• Remind yourself how much better you feel by comparing this morning’s clear, calm head with how you felt at the start of January. Ask yourself these questions:

What small improvements are you noticing in day-to-day life?

What areas are you struggling with?

Think about a time when you were dreading something, or anticipating a big challenge to your sobriety, and it was actually much easier than you expected. What happened and helped?

Is there anything that has helped you that you never would have guessed before you started?

How you’ll feel 

• Richer! You’ve saved a ton of money. I still use an app called I Am Sober to track what I would have been spending and reckon it was around an extra £8.50 a day. Meaning in one month I save £263.50. And this conservative figure doesn’t account for taxis home, takeaways I didn’t need, carby snacks I bought the next day to keep me going, or buying rounds. (Since 2018, in all the time I have given up drinking, I’ve saved close to £20,000. Mind blowing, isn’t it.)
• You’re getting healthier all the time. I’m not going to hector you and make you feel bad about drinking, but the unavoidable fact is, alcohol causes cancer. According to Cancer Research UK, it causes seven types, including breast and bowel. Giving up long-term will cut that risk.

What to do after 100 days 

Once you start to get towards the end of your (first?!) 100 days, you should notice your mood improving and your anxiety levels dropping.

Now is the time to make the most of your energy boost and all those re-gained hours and throw yourself into your new life. Test the waters with a new hobby or pick up an old one that might have previously got in the way of your drinking. Writing, sewing, weight-lifting, you can’t go wrong. I ended up acting in the Preston Musical Comedy Society’s production of Calendar Girls. I was so far out of my comfort zone it was painful, and yet those were also four of the best months of my life. And if you need motivation to carry on your alcohol-free life…

How you’ll feel 

• Know that everyone around you will have felt the impact of these 100 days too. I’ve no doubt that my decision to stop drinking has had a hugely positive effect on my children. My eldest kids, both in their 20s, rarely drink these days. I’m not a finger-wagging sober parent who believes they shouldn’t – it’s absolutely their choice – but what they have seen over the years is how my life, and theirs, has changed for the better because booze no longer features.
• Your friendships will become more meaningful too. Before giving up booze, I believed alcohol was the magic potion that brought glamour, sparkle and fun to socialising. But as a non-drinker, I began to learn it wasn’t that magic elixir. The truth is alcohol distorts conversations and makes them repetitive. Without booze comes listening and concentration when chatting with friends, not gossiping and distraction. It means conversations became deeper and more interesting.
• You’re going to feel much more confident than you ever have before. I fell into my forties drunk, hungover and knackered. I excitedly started my fifties feeling calm, content, proud and absolutely buzzing. I really can’t express the confidence that comes and lights up all areas of your life when you set yourself a challenge like this, put your shoulder to the wheel and just go for it – one step at a time. Future you will feel like you can do anything! You know how your life looks with alcohol in it, so why not find out how it looks without?

Adapted from The Life-Changing Magic Of Quitting Alcohol by Sharon Hartley (Aurum, £12.99). © Sharon Hartley 2025. To order a copy for £11.69 (offer valid to 08/02/25; UK P&P free on orders over £25) go to www.mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937 The Life Changing Magic Of Quitting Alcohol by Sharon Hartley, £12.99 Aurum