A Club Muddy Reflection – The Microphone Hits Different

There are moments in life where you realize you are saying something out loud that used to only live quietly inside of you.

For me, sitting down on Club Muddy to talk about sobriety, travel, relationships, reinvention, and Highly Relatable was one of those moments.

I was excited. I was nervous. I was very aware that saying things on Facebook is one thing.

Saying them into a microphone, in a room with people you know, in a town where everybody kind of knows everybody?

That hits different.

But maybe that is the whole point of Highly Relatable.

Telling the truth while you are still living the story.

Not after you have it all figured out. Not after you have healed perfectly. Not after you have some neat little bow tied around your life.

But right here.

In the middle.

The messy, beautiful, uncomfortable, awkward, emotional, sometimes hilarious middle.

I Don’t Consider Myself an Alcoholic

One of the first things I said during the conversation was something I have said before, but it still feels important every time I say it:

I don’t consider myself an alcoholic.

I don’t work a program. I don’t have some dramatic movie-scene version of a rock bottom.

But I knew alcohol was a problem in my life.

And I decided to stop digging.

Because that is what rock bottom has become to me.

It is not always a DUI.
It is not always a divorce.
It is not always losing everything.
It is not always some catastrophic moment where your entire life burns down around you.

Sometimes rock bottom is simply the moment you finally put the shovel down.

For me, that moment came after my best friend’s 40th birthday.

I had been drinking on a nearly empty stomach. Vodka Sprites. A Gin Fizzy. A little bit of everything. And at the end of the night, there was a shot of Rumple Minze.

That is really the last thing I remember.

And I woke up the next morning with that feeling.

Not just a hangover. Not just embarrassment. Not just the usual, “Ugh, why did I do that?”

It was deeper than that.

It was:

This cannot be the rest of my life.

The First Sober Birthday I Could Remember

I celebrated my 40th birthday sober.

And when I really sat with that, I realized something kind of wild.

I could not remember a birthday I had celebrated sober since probably my freshman year of college.

That means for about 20 years, my birthday had always been tied to drinking.

A party.
A dinner.
A trip.
A celebration.
A reason to drink.

And that is not even unique to birthdays.

So much of adult life revolves around alcohol.

We drink when we are celebrating.
We drink when we are grieving.
We drink when we are bored.
We drink when we are nervous.
We drink when we are on vacation.
We drink when it is sunny.
We drink when it is snowing.
We drink because it is Friday.
We drink because it is Tuesday and life is annoying.

There is always a reason.

Especially in a town like Quincy, Illinois, where alcohol is woven into so many social situations. Bars, fundraisers, birthdays, weddings, backyard parties, concerts, brunches, holidays.

It is everywhere.

And when you decide not to drink anymore, you realize just how everywhere it really is.

Why Is “I Don’t Drink” So Hard for People to Hear?

One of the things I have written about before, and talked about on Club Muddy, is how strange people can get when you say you do not drink.

You can say:

“I don’t smoke.”

Nobody panics.

You can say:

“I don’t eat meat.”

People might ask a question or two, but generally they move on.

But when you say:

“I don’t drink.”

People suddenly need the full investigative report.

Are you pregnant?
Are you okay?
Did something happen?
Do you have a problem?
Are you ever going to drink again?
Not even on vacation?
Not even at a wedding?
Not even champagne?
Not even one?

It is funny, but it is also exhausting.

Because most of the time, I am not asking anyone else to explain their drinking.

I am just explaining my not drinking.

And honestly, sometimes I do not even feel like explaining that.

Travel Used to Mean Drinking

Anybody who knows me knows travel is a huge part of my life.

Concert trips. Cruises. Europe. Beaches. Vegas. New York. Ireland. Italy. Spain. Austin. San Francisco. All of it.

But for a long time, travel and alcohol were tangled together.

Airport drinks.
Vacation drinks.
Cruise drinks.
Concert drinks.
Wine with dinner.
Nightcaps.
Pool drinks.
Celebration drinks.
“Let’s just grab one more” drinks.

Alcohol was not just something that happened during the trip.

It became part of the trip.

And for the last 411 days, I have learned something that still feels almost shocking to say:

Alcohol has not been able to take the joy from my experiences.

I went to Spain sober.
I went to Italy sober.
I went to Austin sober.
I went to San Francisco sober.
I went to concerts sober.
I celebrated Halloween sober.
I celebrated my 40th birthday sober.

And the memories are mine.

Clear. Present. Real.

Alcohol does not get to steal them from me anymore.

That has been one of the greatest gifts of this entire journey.

You Can’t Have Your Dreams and a Drink in the Same Hand

One of the things I said during the conversation was:

You can’t have your dreams and a drink in the same hand.

And I know that might sound dramatic.

But for me, it is true.

Alcohol was not helping me build the life I wanted.

It was not helping me write.
It was not helping me create.
It was not helping me grow.
It was not helping me communicate better.
It was not helping my relationships.
It was not helping me become the woman I wanted to be at 40.

And then, in the middle of this already huge life shift, I lost my corporate job.

I was one of the people impacted by Amazon’s corporate layoffs.

I woke up at 4 a.m. to an email that my role had been eliminated.

And I remember thinking:

Shit.

Because what else do you think when your job disappears before the sun is even up?

But I also remember thinking something else.

If this had happened when I was still drinking, I do not know what I would have done.

I think I would have spiraled.

I think I would have gone into a hole.

I think I would have numbed it instead of facing it.

But because I was sober, I was able to look at it differently.

Not perfectly.
Not without fear.
Not without crying or panicking or wondering what the hell was next.

But clearly enough to ask:

What if this is an opportunity?

Highly Relatable Was Born From a Midlife Reset

Our parents called it a midlife crisis.

I am calling it a midlife reset.

Because I do not think I am in crisis.

I think I am finally paying attention.

Highly Relatable came from that place.

From turning 40.
From quitting drinking.
From looking at my life and asking what I actually want the next 40 years to look like.
From realizing I have stories to tell.
From wanting to talk about the things people usually whisper about.
From wanting to be honest about sobriety, relationships, family dynamics, boundaries, travel, reinvention, and all the weird emotional stuff that comes with changing your life.

I started blogging quietly at first.

I did not tell everybody.

I shared early posts with my sister, who is my biggest cheerleader and one of the most important people in my life. She pushed me to post my one-year update publicly.

That post said:

365 days since my last hangover.

And once I started sharing, people started reaching out.

Some publicly.
Some privately.
Some just to say, “I needed this.”
Some to say, “I have been thinking about my own drinking.”
Some to say, “Thank you for being honest.”

That is when I realized Highly Relatable was not just about me.

It was about creating a place where people could see themselves.

Relationships Change When You Change

One of the things people do not talk about enough is how sobriety changes relationships.

Not just romantic relationships.

Friendships.
Family dynamics.
Social circles.
The way people see you.
The way you see yourself.

Colin and I have been together for over 13 years.

The majority of our relationship involved alcohol. Not because alcohol was the foundation of us, but because it was present in so much of what we did.

Dinners.
Trips.
Shows.
Nights in.
Nights out.
Celebrations.

And when I stopped drinking, things changed.

But for us, they changed for the better.

We communicate better.
I react differently.
I am clearer.
I am less retaliatory.
I am more aware of myself.

I am not the same woman he started dating 13 years ago.

And he did not sign up for this version of me.

But we are building something new.

And honestly, that is kind of beautiful.

Some Friendships Can Survive Without Alcohol. Some Can’t.

Friendships change too.

And that part can hurt.

Because when you stop drinking, you start to see which connections were built on something deeper and which ones were mostly built on chaos.

I do not mean that in a judgmental way.

I had fun.
I made memories.
I loved those versions of my life while I was in them.

But I am not that version of myself anymore.

The old me was loud.
Social.
Funny.
Chaotic.
Always ready to stay out.
Always ready for one more.
Always ready to turn everything into an event.

The new me is still funny.

She is still social.
She still loves people.
She still loves music and travel and ridiculous conversations and costumes that nobody understands.

But she is quieter now.

The chaos is not leading anymore.

And when the chaos leaves, some people do not know what to do with you.

That is okay.

If people are mourning the loss of old Brittany, they are allowed to mourn her.

But she is not coming back.

Old Brittany Isn’t Coming Back

I described it on the podcast like a tug of war.

Old Brittany is on one side, trying to pull me back into who I was.

New Brittany is on the other side, pulling me toward who I am becoming.

And every day I stay sober, every day I choose myself, every day I tell the truth, every day I build something instead of numbing something, new Brittany gets stronger.

That does not mean I hate the old version of me.

I actually think she was doing the best she could.

She was surviving.
She was coping.
She was trying to belong.
She was trying to be fun.
She was trying to be enough.
She was trying to not feel so much.

But I do not need to be her anymore.

And that is where the grief comes in.

Because sometimes changing your life means grieving the version of yourself who helped you survive it.

There Is No One Right Way to Be Sober

I also want to be very clear about something.

I am not here to tell anyone they have to quit drinking.

I am not here to shame anyone.

I am not here to say there is one right way to be sober.

There is not.

Some people work a program.
Some people go to meetings.
Some people read books.
Some people use therapy.
Some people make private contracts with themselves.
Some people do 30 days.
Some people do 100 days.
Some people quit forever.
Some people simply get curious.

I think it has to be on your terms.

For me, books helped. Therapy helped. Writing helped. Travel helped. My family helped. My sister helped. Colin helped. My mom helped. My friends helped. Talking about it helped.

One book that really impacted me was The Sober Curious Reset. It is a 100-day reset, and each day gives you something to read, reflect on, and write about.

Even though I was already well into my sobriety when I read it, it helped me process things in a different way.

Sometimes the right book does not find you on day one.

Sometimes it finds you when you are finally ready to understand it.

Highly Relatable Travel Is Part of the Story Too

The other part of this whole reset is travel.

I have been planning trips for myself, family, and friends for over 20 years.

Spring break cruises.
All-inclusives.
Ireland.
Italy.
Spain.
Costa Rica.
Disney.
Concert trips.
Cruises.
Mother-daughter trips.
Girls trips.
Couples trips.

Travel has always been part of who I am.

In 2024, I started working with Fora as a travel advisor, originally just to earn commission on trips Colin and I were already taking.

But after losing my corporate job, I started asking myself:

What if I actually build something with this?

Not just booking trips.

Creating experiences.

Because I know what it feels like to want a trip that fits who you are.

Maybe you want the all-inclusive with the drink package.
Maybe you want the sober-friendly concert weekend.
Maybe you want the Disney cruise with your family.
Maybe you want Europe with your mom.
Maybe you want a girls trip where someone else handles the details.
Maybe you want to travel but feel overwhelmed by where to start.

Highly Relatable Travel is an extension of the bigger brand because travel is part of how I came back to myself.

I had to learn that I could still explore the world without alcohol.

And now I want to help other people create trips they will actually remember.

What the Podcast Will Be

The Highly Relatable podcast is going to be a little bit of everything.

Honest reflections.
Solo story times.
Guest conversations.
Sobriety stories.
Travel stories.
Life resets.
Relationships.
Boundaries.
Triggers.
Healing.
Funny moments.
Awkward moments.
Things nobody talks about but everybody secretly understands.

Some episodes will come from blog posts.

Some will be conversations with people who are reinventing themselves.

Some will be about travel tips and experiences.

Some will be about sobriety.

Some will probably be me figuring it out in real time.

Because that is the whole point.

I am not doing this because I have everything figured out.

I am doing this because I am finally willing to be honest while I am figuring it out.

The Relationship With the Person in the Mirror

Something I said during the conversation has stayed with me:

The relationship you have with the person in the mirror is the relationship you are going to have for the rest of your life.

People will come and go.

Jobs will change.
Friendships will shift.
Relationships will evolve.
Your identity will stretch.
Your plans will fall apart and rebuild themselves.
Your life will surprise you.

But you are always going to have to live with yourself.

And I want to build a life where I can look at the woman in the mirror and be proud of her.

Not because she is perfect.

God knows she is not.

But because she is trying.

Because she is honest.

Because she stopped digging.

Because she decided old Brittany could rest now.

Because she chose a midlife reset.

Because she is finally living her life while she is still living it.

And honestly?

That feels highly relatable.

XOXO – Brittany Jo