What your glass of rosé is really doing to you: Beth thought her drinking was harmless but this is how her ‘feminine’ habit left her with a terrifying alcohol problem… and the warning signs you could have one too

When Beth Jayne first started drinking rosé wine, she saw it as a harmless choice, the ‘lighter’ option.

In fact, it contains as much alcohol as white wine and some reds.

What began as an occasional glass of rosé soon escalated into a full-blown alcohol addiction, which left Beth drinking in secret and hiding empty wine bottles in bags and suitcases around her bedroom.

Now almost two-and-a-half years sober, Beth, 29, a mobile technical guide for a phone network, says: ‘I never imagined I’d become an alcoholic in my 20s, especially not because of something as seemingly harmless as rosé.

‘But it crept up on me because it wasn’t vodka or whiskey I was reaching for – nothing that looked “serious”. It was light, fruity rosé. The kind of drink us Brits associate with a summer picnic or a barbecue with friends.’

She believes this seemingly benign image delayed her recognising how severe her drinking had become.

‘I drank it like it was a soft drink, despite its high alcohol content,’ she says. ‘It was the “nicest” drink to have – frankly more feminine, too. I think that’s what made it so dangerous.

‘Alcoholism affected every aspect of my life. I would call into work sick if I felt too hungover, so I became quite unreliable.

‘Friendships would take second place to drinking – and if the activity didn’t include alcohol, I wouldn’t spend time with them.’

Beth, from Plymouth, started drinking socially as a teenager, but says alcohol became a bigger part of her life in her early 20s.

‘I was working in bars and restaurants, where there was a big drinking culture,’ she says. ‘All the girls would order rosé, especially when the sun came out, and it felt like the healthier alternative to red or white wine.

‘It didn’t seem like a big deal to order a few glasses in the middle of the day. Before I knew it I was drinking a bottle every other day, before it slowly turned into a bottle a day.’

After moving to Australia in 2018, Beth says drinking quickly became less social and more emotional.

‘I threw myself into backpacker life, which revolved heavily around alcohol,’ she says. ‘I settled into a new town and, around two years into my time in Australia, I began using drinking as a crutch, something to give me confidence when meeting new people.

‘It was a habit that soon became worse and I gained around 5st [she’s 5ft 1in] – because when I was drinking, I would always follow it up with fast food.

‘I think I realised I had a problem when I felt rough most of the time. Some hangovers would be worse than others – but usually I didn’t feel them until midday because I was still tipsy when I woke up to go to work.

‘Headaches were common and I used to take painkillers every day.’

For years, Beth says she convinced herself she was still functioning normally despite drinking heavily every day.

‘For a long time, it was always rosé,’ she says. ‘I was drinking every single day, probably a bottle, sometimes two – so up to 14 bottles a week. But I was still functioning.’

Beth was holding down a job as a retail shop manager, but says her life increasingly revolved around alcohol.

‘Straight after my shift, I headed to the same shop every day to buy more alcohol,’ she says. ‘The people working there knew exactly what I wanted before I even put it on the counter.’

The problem with drinks such as rosé, prosecco and canned cocktails is that they can feel deceptively safe, says Dr David McLaughlan, a consultant psychiatrist based in London who specialises in addictive behaviours.

‘I treat lots of people like Beth – people who may have underestimated the risks of drinking rosé and ended up developing an addiction.

‘One of the biggest misconceptions around alcohol is that certain drinks somehow feel “safer” because they are associated with brunches, holidays or sophistication rather than obvious intoxication.

‘Rosé or other “socially acceptable” summer drinks can become a gateway to heavier spirits.

‘But from the brain’s perspective, ethanol is ethanol. A chilled bottle of rosé shared over an afternoon can easily contain the equivalent alcohol content of several double vodkas.’

Dr McLaughlan says the problem with drinks such as rosé is that people often underestimate how much alcohol they are consuming.

‘What makes drinks like rosé or prosecco potentially deceptive is the psychology around them,’ he explains.

‘People are less likely to monitor themselves carefully because the drink feels socially normalised and lower risk.

‘It is similar to how people underestimate calories in smoothies compared with fast food, even when the energy content may be similar.’

There is also a biological factor, he explains. ‘Sugary, carbonated or easy-to-drink alcoholic drinks are often consumed faster, producing quicker spikes in dopamine, the brain chemical involved in reward and reinforcement. That learning process is central to addiction.’

As well as addiction, other risks include drinking (acidic) wine on an empty stomach, which means it comes into direct contact with the gut lining and the gut bacteria there, as the Mail has previously reported.

This can irritate and damage the cells of the gut lining, which can cause IBS-type symptoms and disrupt the balance of the healthy gut bacteria, leaving more opportunity for ‘bad’ bacteria to thrive.

This in turn reduces the effects of ‘good’ bacteria that help maintain the gut lining and protects it from inflammation.

Beth says this happened to her. ‘While I was drinking I would have terrible gut problems that I really struggled with, including stomach pain.

‘I put it down to IBS – but now I can see that it was the rosé, and it’s only in the last year and a half that it has settled down.’

She adds: ‘Drinking alcohol also affected my skin. I looked kind of dull and didn’t have colour to my face.’ 

Beth says even though she knew deep down she had a problem, she struggled repeatedly to stop drinking.

‘I must have given up alcohol a dozen times, managing a week sober before convincing myself I deserved a treat – a bottle of wine,’ she says.

‘That one bottle always led me straight back to where I started.’

At one point, Beth begged her then partner to take her to a doctor – only to be told to try cutting down by a couple of units a day. ‘I was so frustrated. No one was taking me seriously.’

She admits: ‘I couldn’t really turn to my friends because none of them knew the extent of my drinking.

‘If we were at a pub, I would limit myself to a few drinks – and then I’d leave early to go home and drink alone. My boyfriend at the time worked away a lot and didn’t realise that I had a real problem.’

Dr McLaughlan says the cycle of giving up and quickly starting drinking again is common in alcohol dependency, because the brain has learned to treat alcohol as essential.

‘One way I explain it to patients is that alcohol gradually changes the brain from a “choice-based” system into more of a “survival-driven” system,’ he says.

‘Many people initially drink to manage stress, anxiety, trauma, loneliness or social discomfort – and, at first, it’s voluntary and rewarding.

‘Eventually the brain starts treating alcohol almost like a necessity for emotional or physical stability.

‘Alcohol works temporarily because it suppresses activity in threat and stress circuits within the brain,’ he explains.

‘But the brain adapts remarkably quickly. Over time, people often develop a rebound effect where anxiety, depression, irritability and insomnia become worse without alcohol.

‘This creates a vicious cycle where drinking briefly relieves symptoms that alcohol itself has intensified.’

After returning to the UK and moving back in with her mum, Beth says she became increasingly secretive about her drinking.

‘At my worst, I was drinking two bottles of rosé alone in my bedroom every evening, once Mum had gone to bed,’ she says.

‘I became obsessed with hiding the evidence and stuffed empty bottles into bags and suitcases, anything I could find.’

Dr McLaughlan warns that long-term alcohol dependence can have devastating consequences for both physical and mental health.

‘The liver is the best-known casualty because it has to metabolise alcohol toxins. Initially, people may develop fatty liver disease, but over time this can progress to hepatitis, fibrosis and cirrhosis [tissue death].’

He adds: ‘But the heart is also vulnerable. Chronic heavy drinking increases blood pressure, raises stroke risk and can weaken the heart muscle itself, causing alcoholic cardiomyopathy.

‘And the brain is particularly affected. Alcohol disrupts chemical messengers involved in mood, sleep, anxiety and impulse control.

‘Over years, people can experience memory problems, poor concentration, emotional instability and reduced cognitive flexibility.’

Things worsened after Beth started drinking spirits alongside rosé.

‘Rosé was always my drink of choice, but if I couldn’t get any and I had spirits at home, I drank them instead. One night I drank about 90 per cent of a bottle of vodka,’ she says.

‘The next morning, I woke up and thought, “I can’t do this any more”. That’s when I went cold turkey, by myself without any help or support. I got myself into a mess and I didn’t want anyone to know, so I did it myself.’

Beth says fear about her future and health pushed her towards stopping.

‘Physically and mentally, things started to scare me. I began to worry about how long I’d be able to function for. Would I lose my job? Would I ever find love as an alcoholic?’

But her withdrawal symptoms were terrifying.

She recalls: ‘They started around 24 hours after I stopped and it was scary. I was having heart palpitations, sweating, was paranoid, suffered panic attacks – and was scared about having a seizure and nobody realising.

‘I didn’t sleep well – at night I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I lay in bed, and I had to do breathing exercises just to get through it. I was a mess.

‘I was also scared of telling people the truth about what was happening. It took weeks for those symptoms to subside enough for me to feel somewhat okay-ish in my body, and that I was over the worst of it.’

Suddenly stopping alcohol can be dangerous for people who are physically dependent and in some cases can be life-threatening’, warns Dr McLaughlan, who works at Clean Slate Clinic, specialising in clinically supervised alcohol detoxification at home alongside a structured 12-month recovery programme combining medical, psychological and pharmacological support.

‘Alcohol withdrawal can cause seizures, hallucinations, severe confusion and delirium tremens – a medical emergency with significant mortality if untreated.

‘This is because alcohol acts as a depressant on the nervous system, meaning it slows down brain activity. Over time, the brain compensates by becoming more electrically “excitable”.

‘If alcohol – that “brake” – is suddenly removed, the brain can effectively go into a hyper-excited state.

‘The result can be a hyper-excitable nervous system – hence the tremors, sweating, anxiety, insomnia and agitation initially. But in severe cases, seizures, hallucinations and delirium tremens [DTs].

‘For some people with mild dependence, stopping may be uncomfortable but manageable. But for heavier daily drinkers, medically supervised detoxification is the safest approach.’

While recovering, Beth spent weeks avoiding seeing friends ‘because I knew alcohol would most likely be involved in any social events and I didn’t want the temptation. I simply wasn’t strong enough to be around it.’

Now, more than two years sober, Beth says quitting alcohol was ‘life-changing’.

‘I have lost a lot of weight and my skin is no longer sallow.

‘I also no longer work as a waitress. I am a mobile technical guide for a mobile network. I was given a lead position around six months ago. I could never have achieved this while I was drinking.’

‘I have completely rebuilt my life and I’m proud of myself for doing it solo.’

These days she sticks to water and squash, but on special occasions, she will have one or two glasses of sparkling non-alcoholic rosé or a zero per cent beer.

‘I will never drink alcohol again,’ she says. ‘The fact that rosé is sometimes seen as harmless delayed me realising how bad things had become. It doesn’t carry the same stigma as other wines; it is seen as a refreshing, feminine drink, something you sip in the sun.

‘The problem was, I wasn’t sipping it – I was relying on it.’