I had to relearn how to be creative without alcohol

This summer marks almost six years since I stopped drinking.

That might sound more dramatic than it really is, because I don't consider myself someone who "can't drink." Every now and then I'll have a glass at a celebration or a champagne toast at an event. Alcohol just isn't part of my everyday life anymore.

But for years, it was. Especially when I was creating.

Some people light a candle before they sit down to work. Others put on a playlist. My ritual was pouring a glass of wine. That was how I moved from "work mode" into creative mode. Or at least that's what I believed.


When every day felt like the same day
Like so many of us, 2020 completely disrupted my routines. The days blended together. There wasn't much to celebrate, but somehow there was always a reason to have a drink. Happy hour became... whenever. Wine slowly turned from something I enjoyed into something I expected every evening.

Sometimes it was a bottle a day.

Eventually my body started telling me something wasn't right. I developed a constant sore throat and stomach issues, and when I traveled to Torreón, Mexico to visit my parents, my dad took me to see a gastroenterologist. I was diagnosed with GERD and learned it had already started damaging my esophagus.

I was put on a strict treatment plan, and for a while, I did really well.

Then life happened. My dad was preparing for knee replacement surgery. COVID was quietly making its way through our family, though we didn't know that yet. We were focused on his recovery, and because I was feeling better, I slipped back into old habits.

A case of white wine I'd ordered from Costco arrived at my parents' house. I remember thinking, "At least it's white wine. That's probably better." Looking back, I smile at how our minds try to negotiate with our habits.

But what I remember most isn't the wine. It's the look on my dad's face. He was disappointed — not because of the wine itself, but because he knew how hard I had worked to get healthy again.

A couple of weeks later, he passed away from complications related to COVID.

One of the last things I remember is how worried he was that I wasn't taking care of myself. And I realized I never wanted him to worry about me again.

So I stopped drinking. For him.


Relearning creativity
What I didn't expect was how much of my identity felt tied to alcohol. Not socially — creatively.

For years, my favorite way to work late into the night was with a glass of wine next to my computer. Somewhere along the way, I'd convinced myself that wine helped me access my creativity. Without it, I felt stuck. The ideas didn't come as easily. Or maybe they did, and I just didn't trust them yet.

I had to relearn how to enter that creative flow without a ritual I'd repeated for years. And it turns out the wine wasn't creating the ideas — it was simply signaling to my brain that it was time to create.

Over time, I built new rituals instead: a cup of coffee, a clean-ish desk, music, an evening walk before sitting down...

None of those things made me more creative. Neither did wine. The creativity had been there all along.


Learning to unwind
The hardest lesson wasn't actually creating without alcohol. It was resting without it.

For years, wine had marked the end of the day. It helped me disconnect from work, quiet my thoughts, and tell my brain it was finally okay to relax. Without that routine, I had to figure out what relaxation actually looked like. I had to learn how to sit with my thoughts instead of numbing them, how to process grief instead of postponing it, how to end the day without needing something in a glass.

That part took much longer.


Six years later
I don't think alcohol was ever the source of my creativity. It was just something I happened to pair with it.

Today I still design brands. I still stay up late when inspiration strikes. I still have those magical moments where ideas seem to come out of nowhere. The difference is that now I know those ideas were never hiding inside a wine glass.
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They were always inside me. ☺️
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And maybe that's the lesson I wish more creatives heard: you don't need to become someone else to create your best work. Sometimes you just need to trust that the creativity you already have is enough.
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