Why I’m Not Giving Up Wine in January

On self-trust, tradeoffs, and choosing what actually adds value

I don’t like rules. I’m not a lawbreaker, but I bristle at rules I don’t agree with, especially when they exist just for the sake of existing.

Enter: Dry January, where countless people willingly decide to abstain from alcohol for the whole month. The whole month of January, which is one of the bleakest months of the year.

I refuse to participate.

I realize there are plenty of valid health reasons someone might try, or even need, something like Dry January. I have friends who do it, and I genuinely respect that choice for them. I’m always up for coffee instead of happy hour.But Dry January just isn’t for me.

Any sort of “system” or “challenge” that says I simply cannot do something is going to be a hard pass for me.

I understand the intention behind something like Dry January. It’s meant to create space: to pause, reflect, reset, and become more aware of habits that might otherwise run on autopilot. But the thing is, I already do that. I already check in with myself. I already notice when a glass of wine affects my sleep, or when my body is asking for a night off, or when I’d rather pour a cup of tea instead. At this point in my life, the goal isn’t abstinence—it’s trust. Trusting myself to decide, on a random Tuesday in January, what actually feels good and right for me. And I don’t need a month-long rule to practice that.

And that trust shows up in pretty ordinary ways.

I’m writing this as someone who enjoys an alcoholic beverage or two most, not all, evenings. Some days after work, I really enjoy pouring myself a glass of red wine and savoring it. Other days, I might enjoy a cocktail with dinner. Or a craft beer at the local brewery during an impromptu date night. And on the weekends, I’ll occasionally crack open a bottle of sparkling wine to make mimosas.

I don’t drink to get drunk or even tipsy. At the tender age of 40, my body just doesn’t bounce back from that anymore, and two drinks is more than enough most of the time. I drink because I enjoy what I’m drinking. I’m lucky enough to afford my version of “the good stuff,” and it’s worth savoring.

A glass of red wine from one of my favorite local wineries is the perfect cozy companion for a chilly, often dreary month like January. It’s a ritual—a transition from a probably hectic workday, a way to slow down and ease into the evening.

And when I’m out with friends or with my husband, sharing a bottle of wine or trying different cocktails just feels more special with someone else. Of course, we could still enjoy each other’s company without alcohol. But why be strong-armed into that choice?

The other day, my husband and I took an impromptu trip to one of my favorite local wineries because they were selling some of their old barrels. I’m now the proud owner of a French oak wine barrel that’s sitting proudly in my family room, by the way.

While we were there, we took advantage of one of our membership perks: two complimentary glasses any time we visit. And it was just so nice to sit with him, enjoy a glass, listen to some live music, and talk. It turned into a low-key date that hadn’t been planned, but was exactly what we needed—and it wouldn’t have happened without wine.

So when I think about all of the good I get out of something, why would I deny myself?

At this point in my life, it really does come down to tradeoffs. I’m a healthy, active woman who pays attention to how she feels, what she needs, and what actually adds value to her days. Giving up something I genuinely enjoy and experience intentionally for a whole month—just because it’s the culturally approved thing to do right now—isn’t a tradeoff I’m interested in making.

I don’t need a reset. I don’t need a challenge. I just need to keep trusting myself to choose well, one ordinary evening at a time.