Why I’ve Quit Drinking in 2026

-          A careful man I want to be, a little fellow follows me.

There’s a little fellow watching me now.

He watches how I wake up.

How I speak.

How I handle stress.

How I recover from mistakes.

And whether I like it or not, he’s learning what normal looks like by watching me live my life.

I’ve done sobriety before. I’m not new to this.

In 2009, I entered rehab for substance use issues that started in my teens and followed me through my early twenties. I got sober and stayed that way for almost three years. That decision changed the entire trajectory of my life.

Since then, I’ve dedicated my whole career to helping others with the same affliction. I’ve worked in frontline clinical roles, senior leadership, service design, and workforce development. I’ve helped build programs, led teams, and trained thousands of clinicians to become more helpful in their roles. Motivational Interviewing has been at the heart of that work.

Professionally, the story looks solid. Purpose-driven. Consistent.

Personally, though, there’s been a quieter contradiction.

A contradiction I’ve carried and compartmentalised.

Through my early and mid-30s, I was still a bit of a ‘sesh-gremlin’.

Not reckless. Not chaotic. But not fully aligned either.

I could justify it easily.

I wasn’t “that bad.”

I functioned.

I worked hard.

I trained hard.

I showed up.

I have a full and enriching life.

But there was cognitive dissonance in helping people change their lives while at times choosing something that chipped away at my own clarity.

Becoming a dad slowed that down. Naturally. Responsibility has a way of doing that.

But what finally made it obvious was this: even a few drinks now have an outsized cost.

I’m 40 this year, so a couple of drinks doesn’t just end at a couple of drinks anymore.

It shows up in:

My sleep quality.

My mood the next day.

My motivation.

My patience.

My decision-making.

My presence.

Nothing dramatic. Just a subtle dulling. A slight drag on everything that matters most.

And when you notice that clearly, it becomes hard to unsee.

I’m three weeks sober today, and the difference is undeniable.

My resting heart rate is down significantly.

My skin is clearer.

I wake up fresher.

I train better.

I think more clearly.

I’m more even.

More present.

More patient.

More motivated.

The data is in. My body and mind are better without alcohol. Who would have thought!?

For me this is about being consistent, regulated, and predictable in the best possible way.

I want my son to grow up seeing a dad who:

Trains hard and recovers well.

Handles stress without numbing.

Makes decisions with a clear head.

Models self-respect and integrity to values.

Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you. – Robert Fulghum

The goal is simple: all of 2026 sober, almost.

I’m also realistic, and I’m human.

We are getting married in April, and I’ll likely toast to our wedding.

I may have a cocktail or two on our honeymoon in Koh Samui.

But that’s it.

Outside of those moments, I’m choosing sobriety every other day of the year. Not from a place of fear. Not from shame. But from alignment. From love.

Because the man I am at my best doesn’t drink.

And the dad I want to be doesn’t need to.

This isn’t a rejection of my past.

It’s a continuation of it.

I struggled. I emerged.

And now, I’m choosing to stay clear-headed for this incredible life I’ve built and the little person who’s watching how I live it.