There was a good thread about this a while back, I am not sure if this is the article that was posted but it speaks to this.
I agree with sober wolf, I tried to be careful about speaking glowingly about the thing that had brought me to my knees. I had the image of the chic NYC chick having a glass of wine at a happening bar.
The reality was a lukewarm glass of congealed liquid on the nightstand, mascara streaks down my face and a pit in my stomach because I couldn't remember what I said the night before. Or my handyman finding 18 empty bottles hidden in the box with the pool cushions in the basement. Or searching in the attic for old maternity clothes because I was so bloated and had gained so much weight.
The sparkle now is in my clear skin and eyes. What twinkles is my daughter's laugh because I am able to really be present. And fitting into my old skinny jeans makes me feel chic. And all of this is sustainable and real. I don't miss feeling like I needed a glass in my hands, god it owned me. There isn't a cut crystal glass in the world that feels as good as being comfortable in your own skin!!
Mummy was a Secret Drinker: Why so many well educated, middle aged women drink too much