When I turned 21, I celebrated the way a lot of people do. I drank my way through London with friends I had met while studying abroad, wearing a ridiculous sombrero and treating alcohol like the main event. At the time, it felt normal. Turning 21 felt like a rite of passage, a moment where drinking was not just allowed, but expected.

Now, nearly 15 years later, I am 35, and I did the exact opposite. For the second year in a row, I chose not to drink on my birthday. This was not a rule, a challenge, or an attempt to prove anything. It was simply a decision rooted in how I want to feel on a day that celebrates being alive.

In this post (and in the YouTube video linked here and podcast episode linked here) I share the story of why I didn’t drink on my birthday, what alcohol was quietly taking from me, and what changed when I chose a different way to celebrate.

The cultural pressure to drink on birthdays

Birthdays and alcohol are tightly woven together in our culture. In the United States, turning 21 marks legal access to alcohol. In many parts of Europe, that age comes even earlier. Once you cross that threshold, drinking becomes a symbol of adulthood, freedom, and celebration.

For years, I followed that script without questioning it. Every birthday became an excuse to drink more than usual. It was not about enjoyment anymore. It was about tradition. Society had taught me that celebration meant alcohol, so I never stopped to ask whether that actually served me.

What I eventually realized is that just because something is normal does not mean it is necessary. Cultural norms are powerful, but they are not laws. Once I gave myself permission to step outside that expectation, everything changed.

Reason one: alcohol drops my mood

The biggest reason I didn’t drink on my birthday is simple. Alcohol drops my mood. Not hours later. Not the next day. Almost immediately.

I like to think about mood as a spectrum. At the bottom is depression. At the top is joy. On my birthday, I want to live as close to joy as possible. I want to feel present, grateful, and energized as I step into a new year of my life.

Even a small amount of alcohol pulls me down that scale. One drink is enough to dull my energy and flatten my emotions. Once that happens, I have to work twice as hard to feel good again. On my birthday, that tradeoff no longer makes sense.

The dopamine crash no one talks about

Alcohol creates a short-term dopamine spike followed by a crash. That crash is not subtle. Blood sugar drops. Energy drops. Motivation drops. For me, that crash shows up as irritability, fatigue, and a quiet sense of sadness that feels completely out of place on a day meant for celebration.

This is not about willpower or mindset. It is physiology. Alcohol temporarily borrows happiness from the future and charges interest. I have experienced that pattern enough times to recognize it immediately.

Once I connected that pattern to how I felt on past birthdays, the decision became clear. I did not want to start a new year of my life in a chemical low.

Reason two: alcohol and birthday food do not mix

Birthdays are also food days. At least they are for me. I love celebrating with meals I do not eat every day. That might mean pie, whipped cream, or even fast food from Culver’s. Food is part of joy, and I have no interest in removing that from my birthday.

What I finally noticed is that alcohol amplifies overeating. It lowers inhibition, increases cravings, and pushes me to eat far past the point of feeling satisfied. The combination of alcohol and birthday food left me uncomfortably full, sluggish, and disconnected from my body.

This year, I ate all my favorite birthday foods without alcohol, and the difference was remarkable. I enjoyed the food. I slept well. I woke up feeling normal instead of inflamed and regretful. That alone felt like a win.

Feeling good instead of stuffed

There is a subtle but powerful difference between indulgence and excess. Alcohol blurs that line. Without it, I was able to eat intentionally and stop when my body had enough.

For the first time in years, I did not associate my birthday with digestive discomfort. My stomach felt calm. My energy stayed steady. I went to bed content instead of overstuffed.

Celebration does not have to mean feeling miserable afterward. That realization changed how I think about food and alcohol together, not just on my birthday, but throughout the year.

Reason three: alcohol keeps me from my best self

The third reason I didn’t drink on my birthday is broader but just as important. Alcohol keeps me from being at my best.

When I drink, my heart rate variability drops. My endurance suffers. My workouts feel harder. My motivation dips. Decision making becomes slower and less intentional. These effects do not disappear overnight. They linger for days.

I love training. I love moving my body. I want to run on my birthday and the day after. Alcohol interferes with that. If something consistently pulls me away from the life I want to live, it no longer belongs in my celebrations.

Showing up for the people I love

Being at my best is not just about performance. It is about presence. Alcohol limits my ability to show up for my fiancée, my family, and my friends.

When I am sober, I can drive when someone needs help. I can be fully present in conversations. I remember the moments that matter instead of piecing them together later.

On my birthday, I want to be available to life, not checked out from it.

How I celebrated my birthday without alcohol

Instead of drinking, I leaned into what genuinely makes me feel alive. I started my birthday with a five mile run with my dog, one of my favorite rituals. Movement grounds me, clears my head, and reminds me how capable my body is.

I spent time with people I love, without the haze of alcohol dulling the experience. Conversations went deeper. Laughter felt real. Memories stuck.

Later, we stayed in a cabin in the woods by a river. There was a hot tub, wildlife wandering nearby, and long stretches of quiet. It felt restorative rather than draining.

Replacing the ritual, not the connection

I still celebrated with drinks, just not alcoholic ones. Sparkling water. Kombucha. The ritual stayed. The alcohol did not.

This distinction matters. Humans crave ritual and connection, not ethanol. When you replace the substance but keep the ceremony, nothing meaningful is lost.

I also slept eight to ten hours each night. I woke up after my birthday weekend feeling genuinely rejuvenated. That has never happened after a birthday that involved alcohol.

Choosing joy on purpose

Why I didn’t drink on my birthday ultimately comes down to this. I want my celebrations to add to my life, not take from it.

Alcohol used to feel like a shortcut to fun. Now it feels like an obstacle to joy. Once I saw that clearly, the choice became easy.

You do not need to drink to celebrate your life. You get to decide what makes you feel whole, energized, and proud of how you showed up. For me, that means choosing joy with intention.

If you want to support your health further, you can download my free three pillars of healthy living guide here. And I would love to hear how you plan to celebrate your next birthday.