How to survive the Festive Season when you know you drink too much

My gym held its Christmas party on Saturday night, and for the first time in a long time, I made a big call: I chose not to drink.

I know. Me. Stone-cold sober. At a party. In late November.
But here’s the thing – I was shocked by what I saw when otherwise fit, fabulous, happy 60-year-old women got stuck into the free bubbles.

That chaotic, loud, over-sharing, slightly wobbly woman in the corner?
The one hugging the pot plants and telling the spin instructor she loves him?
The one calling her husband to pick her up but forgetting she didn’t bring her phone?

Normally, that’s me.

And watching it unfold from the outside was … let’s just say “educational.”

It reminded me that if I don’t plan carefully in the run-up to Christmas, I too become a walking cautionary tale – wearing reindeer earrings and slurring about “how the world needs more joy.”

So this year, I’m getting serious. I need tactics. Strategies. A sensible Festive Season Battle Plan.

And to build it, I’ve identified the three types of people who drink too much at Christmas – because let’s be honest, most of us fall into at least one category. Some of us rotate through all three before the pavlova hits the table.

1. The Lovers
Ah yes. The affectionate drinkers.

Give them one glass of prosecco and suddenly they love EVERYONE.
The neighbour they’ve barely spoken to? Love her.
The woman from Pilates they normally find irritating? Love her too.
The Uber driver? Soul mate.

The Lovers mean well, but they tend to:

overshare,
cry at carols,
declare profound emotional truths they forget the next day, and
hug people who really do not want to be hugged.

If this sounds like you, the strategy is simple:
Start the night with boundaries. Even if you’re sober.
Decide which topics are off-limits.
Decide who you’re not hugging.
And decide that if you start feeling overly sentimental, it’s time to find a cheese board instead of a conversation.

2. The Fighters
These ones are saints all year – until December drinks turn them into legal correspondents.

After two wines?
They’re debating politics with the in-laws.
After three?
They’re correcting everyone’s grammar and bringing up things from 1993.
After four?
They’re crying in the bathroom because the turkey is “looking at them with judgement.”

If you recognise yourself in this description, here’s your tool:
Stick to one drink, then switch to sparkling water and lime.
It looks like a gin and tonic. No one will know.
You’ll stay hydrated and far less likely to start a fistfight with your cousin about climate policy.

3. The Sleepers

The most peaceful of the three.
You’re halfway through your main meal and … gone. Head on the table. Eyes closed. Occasionally snoring.

At restaurants they “rest their eyes” between courses.
At parties they find the nearest couch and disappear for an hour.
At home they fall asleep upright, holding a cracker with half the cheese slid onto their jumper.

For The Sleepers, the solution is all about timing.
Eat before you drink.
And make water your friend.
Proper hydration can keep even the most committed napper vertical until dessert.

My Festive Season Survival Plan

After seeing the gym girls go rogue, I’ve devised my own rules for Christmas 2025:

1. Start with one drink, then reassess.
Not “start with one bottle.” One drink.

2. Eat before I arrive.
Preferably something more substantial than a handful of almonds.

3. Leave before the chaos hits.
There is a magical moment in every night – somewhere between “this is fun” and “this will end badly.”
I plan to leave in that gap.

4. Remember future me.
The woman who wakes up the next morning.
The one who doesn’t want to feel like Christmas ham that’s been left out overnight.

Because here’s the truth …
Christmas is wonderful – but it’s also emotional, exhausting, nostalgic, stressful and busy.
And many of us reach for a drink not because we want to party, but because we want to cope.

There’s no judgement here.
Just awareness – and maybe a little wisdom.

This year, I want to remember the celebrations, not just recover from them.
And if I can survive a gym party sober, surely I can survive Christmas too.