STARING at my reflection in the mirror, I can’t help but break into a satisfied smile.
Gone are the puffy cheeks, the tired, dull skin and wrinkles deepened by dehydration.
Instead, my face is clear, dewy and glowing with health.
But it’s not because of some fancy, ultra-expensive new serum I’ve been using. And I certainly haven’t paid a visit to the Botox clinic.
It’s all because, eight months ago, I quit booze– and I haven’t touched a drop since.
How times have changed.
Rewind to my 40th birthday in 2016, and I have a blurry memory of throwing up all over the spotless marble-floored lobby of Claridge’s, one of London’s swankiest hotels, after too much Champagne.
When I hit perimenopausein my early 40s, embarrassing incidents like this one became all too common.
One time, I was sick in a plant pot at The Groucho, the exclusive celebrity members’ club in London’s Soho.
At my mum’s 70th, I drank so much that, during the Uber ride home on the M25, I had to open the door to vomit, nearly falling out.
And I got so drunk at my son Billy’sschool gala in March last year that I passed out at the table before the starters had even arrived.
But it wasn’t like I was drinking multiple shots of vodka or bottles of bubbly at a time.
It only took a few glasses to get me smashed, sick and on the verge of a blackout.
My daily drinking habit got worse during the pandemic, when I was 43.
It was a stressful time, as my dad Bill, 84, was on life support with Covid, and my husband Dan, 52, was in America, nursing a poorly family member, unable to get back home due to the travel restrictions.
Home-schooling my two sons while trying to work as a beauty journalist made that 5pm glass of wine even more tempting.
I didn’t realise that I was going through perimenopause at the time. It is widely talked about now, but in 2020, I hadn’t even heard of the word, let alone which symptoms to look out for.
I thought hot flashes and brain fog were reserved for the over-fifties, not a forty-something mum.
But I have since learned that such symptoms are common in women in their early forties and that perimenopause and alcohol are NOT a good mix.
It can make hot flashes worse, mess with your sleep and even slow down your metabolism.
Post-booze blackouts, ‘hangxiety’ and forgetfulness were blurring together with common perimenopausalsymptoms like anxiety and brain fog.
I was definitely a ‘grey area drinker’ – using alcohol to cope with stress and take the edge off – and I was drinking alone at home. But was I an alcoholic?
Donna Francis
My tolerance to my daily drinking habit was being impacted in a big way thanks to hormonal fluctuations.
Worse still, my kids began to dread it when I drank.
They would often have to repeat themselves because I couldn’t remember our conversations. And I would wake up next to my husband of 22 years with a sense of dread, not remembering if I’d embarrassed him or myself in front of the boys.
Juggling my boozy lifestyle with a glossy job as a beauty editor became hard, too.
In the daytime, I was ticking all the mid-life wellness boxes: drinking water at my desk, eating a healthy salad for lunch, wearing SPF, exercising, taking supplements and hydrating my skin with the latest serums and creams.
But later, I was undoing all that good work with a 5pm bottle of wine, or after-dinner vodka or two.
Drinking was making me age, too. My face was bloated, and my skin looked dull and dehydrated.
That shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as a recent Oxford University study found that alcohol directly accelerates ageing by damaging our DNA.
It was also making me hate myself and sucking away at my self respect.
I tried to cut down during the week, but that just made me crave it more.
I was definitely a ‘grey area drinker’ – using alcohol to cope with stress and take the edge off – and I was drinking alone at home. But was I an alcoholic?
It was a question that I would often ask myself, but one I think I now know the answer to.
Because one day last July, at the age of 48, I stopped drinking overnight.
Dangerous situation
There was no light-bulb moment, just a build-up of lots of hangovers and embarrassing, dangerous situations that made me want to quit.
One of the worst involved me falling asleep in a pool at my 48th birthday party as my youngest son looked on, crying.
The night before I became sober, I’d poured myself my usual 5pm glass of rosé. But as I drank it, the conversations in my head got loud and angry.
I knew my drinking had to stop, and the next morning, I decided enough was enough.
NHS guidelines on drinking alcohol
According to the NHS, regularly drinking more than 14 units of alcohol a week risks damaging your health.
To keep health risks from alcohol to a low level if you drink most weeks:
- men and women are advised not to drink more than 14 units a week on a regular basis
- spread your drinking over 3 or more days if you regularly drink as much as 14 units a week
- if you want to cut down, try to have several drink-free days each week
If you're pregnant or think you could become pregnant, the safest approach is not to drink alcohol at all to keep risks to your baby to a minimum.
You read more on the NHS website.
July 19th was the day I was going to quit – for good. And I was going to tell everyone about it. Even my 25,000 Instagram followers.
I hoped that publicly pledging to go sober would hold me accountable.
Just before I posted on Instagram, I told my youngest son, who was 13 at the time, what I was about to do.
“Go for it, Mum!”; he said. So I did.
The response to my short video, where I told my followers I felt socially dependent on alcohol and wanted to break the cycle, was incredible.
“So much of what you said resonated with me,”; said one follower, while another wrote: “I’m perimenopausal too, and this has planted a seed for me.”;
There was no light-bulb moment, just a build up of lots of hangovers and embarrassing, dangerous situations that made me want to quit
Donna Francis
Positive messages from my Instagram community really kept me going, especially in the first few weeks when the cravings were especially hard.
The support from my family was key in those early days, too. We started spending more time together because of my sobriety, even playing tennis as a family.
Buoyed by these positive changes, my willpower continued to go up a gear.
I had to find something a bit more interesting than Diet Coke or ‘sparkling water in a wine glass’ to replace my 5pm wine fix, though.
Ginger ale helped, as I wanted something that wasn’t really sweet. It had a kick like alcohol, too.
I also found some really great adaptogen drinks, which use herbs instead of alcohol to relax you, and apple cider vinegar mixed with fizzy water was great too.
These cravings subsided around the 100-day mark, a sobriety milestone that people say is important to hit as it’s when the benefits really show up. And it’s so true.
One of the biggest differences I noticed after giving up drinking was how much better my skin looked.
I had to do a skin age test for my work, which involved loading a picture of what my skin looked like before I was sober, having it analysed by skin experts, and then comparing it to what it looks like now.
It revealed that going sober had actually made my skin look five years younger.
It is now clearer, brighter and less puffy.
I’ve had many lovely comments from followers who have noticed how healthy and glowing it looks.
Even my husband commented on how much “fresher”; I look.
He was careful not to say “younger”; as he knew that might offend me, but I knew that’s what he meant.
I have also lost half-a-stone and now weigh 10-and-a-half stone, my lightest since my first son, Oliver, was born 19 years ago.
Yes, I worried that sobriety would be boring, and maybe it is, as you don’t have those big highs or terrible lows that alcohol gives you.
You start to really appreciate the small things. I read more. I walk more. I love the gym.
But what I love most about being sober is how it has helped me like myself again.
