How a can of cider, sent without consent, sparked a national conversation and caused a high company to pause promotions with alcohol – and why I’m not stopping until something changes.
A few weeks ago, I opened my HelloFresh meal kit – a box I trust to arrive at my door containing ingredients for dinner. Hidden inside, nestled between the vegetables and recipe cards, was a can of Thatcher’s cider.
I did not order it. I did not ask for it. I had no idea it was coming.
“HelloFresh literally sent alcohol right into my home. Into a home I have built to keep me safe.”
I rang HelloFresh immediately, wondering if it was a mistake. It was not. They told me it was a promotional gift – something I apparently should have been grateful for – and that I could have opted out of receiving alcohol. Opted out of something I never knew I had been opted into. Something I did not know was even possible?
That detail matters enormously. No warning. No tick box. No chance to say no.
Why This Matters – to Me and to Many Others
I am in recovery from alcohol and substance use. It has been several years now, and I have built a life I am proud of. Recovery takes work, and that is personal, but part of how I protect that life is by ensuring alcohol is not in my home. Not because I am weak, but because I understand addiction. For people like me, there is no such thing as one drink. There is no off button.
I live with ADHD and autism, and I am currently unable to access ADHD medication due to NHS shortages. On a difficult day, with poor impulse control and alcohol sitting in my kitchen, the stakes are not theoretical. They are real and serious.
But this is not just about me. The reaction to my post made that absolutely clear.
Thank you to the community here who commented that leaving alcohol in this way can affect:
Foster carers who worry about what arrives in packages their children might open. People observing religious fasting or abstinence for whom receiving alcohol in their home is not merely unwanted but deeply offensive. Bereaved families who lost someone to alcohol-related illness and who find the casual gifting of it appalling. Families supporting loved ones in recovery who have fought hard to keep their homes alcohol-free.
This is a duality worth sitting with: the right to drink is valid. Nobody here is arguing otherwise. My friends drink. Alcohol is a legal product and many people enjoy it. But the right NOT to have alcohol in your home — for whatever reason, whether health, faith, recovery, or simple preference – is equally valid. And that right was taken from me without my knowledge or consent.
“The right to drink and the right not to have alcohol sent to your home both deserve equal respect. One cannot cancel out the other.”
When I saw that can, I will not pretend otherwise. For a moment, a voice I know well said:
“It is just one. It is cold. Nobody would know.. go on, Samantha”
I poured it away. But even the smell was a trigger. And that should not be happening to anyone, in their own home, on an ordinary day.
It is easy to judge addiction. It is considerably harder to fight it, every single day, in a world that does not always make it easy. I am someone who fights it. And I will continue to fight it – in part because someone said to me that speaking out about this could save lives. I believe they are right.
What I Did – And What Happened
I almost did not post about it on LinkedIn. I wrote it. I deleted it. I wrote it again. I pressed share, half-expecting people to tell me I was overreacting.
Instead, within days, the post went viral.
Hundreds of people commented with their own stories. Alcohol arriving as free gifts at their doors, in their offices, through their letterboxes. The thread became a testimony to how many people this issue touches and how invisible they had felt until someone said something, and that person happened most unexpectedly to be me.
“Alcohol kills more people than crack cocaine. And yet it is gifted freely, and the expectation is that we should be grateful.”
HelloFresh contacted me – but only after the post went viral. Before that, their emails offered me a ten-pound voucher and suggested I opt out next time (of something I knew nothing about). The power of public accountability is remarkable!
I will also say this: HelloFresh asked to meet with me to ‘help’ them. I declined. This is consultancy work – and I will not give my time, expertise, and lived experience for free to a company that caused harm, that could afford to pay for my knowledge, and that chose not to offer to. If they are serious about making change, they know where to find me.
For too long, those with lived experience have been treated as unpaid volunteer advisors to large companies.
HelloFresh has paused its alcohol promotions.
Let that land for a moment.
A disabled, autistic woman in recovery posted about her experience on LinkedIn – and a major corporation changed its behaviour.
This is what accountability looks like. This is what happens when people speak up. We are not done, but this is a significant and meaningful step, and I am thankful to every single person who shared, commented, and signed.
To this day I am still waiting for answers. When I pressed HelloFresh on age verification, they said I had entered my date of birth when I signed up. Let that sink in. I could have lied. People do. An entry field is not ID. It is not a check. It is not protection. It is a gesture, and a hollow one, that would not stop a vulnerable person, a child, or anyone determined to misrepresent themselves from receiving alcohol at their door.
My choice was taken from me.
That is not a small thing. Alcohol is not a harmless product sent to the wrong address. It can be a killer – literally. It destroys health, families, and lives. To send it to someone without their knowledge or consent is not a marketing error.
It is irresponsible. It is selfish. And it needs to stop.
This appears to be a legal loophole. In the UK, as long as you do not charge for alcohol, you can gift it freely – without consent, without ID checks, without warning. That cannot be right.
The bullying – And the amazing community that showed up!
Not everyone was kind. I was mocked, shamed, and ridiculed. One person tagged friends and family members in an attempt to publicly embarrass me. My post was screenshot and shared to LinkedIn Lunatics – a community that mocks what it considers overly earnest LinkedIn content – with the intention of humiliating me.
It backfired. The community read what I had written and, overwhelmingly, agreed with me.
What played out in those comment threads was a fascinating, if painful, social experiment: the attackers posing as victims, the strangers who stepped in to defend me, the bystanders who found their courage, the survivors who recognised their own stories in mine.
I found it hard. But I also found it interesting. People care about this. Deeply.
What Comes Next
In the space of a week, conversations have opened with respected people in the alcohol safety and public health space. I will not share names or details but I am humbled by the support and energised by what feels like genuine momentum.
There are interviews coming up with respected voices in the worlds of sober living and wellness. There are meetings with senior-level professionals in the sector. There is the possibility of news coverage. There is real movement.
This is not the path I planned. A year ago, I challenged the University of Essex over its bursary policies as an outsider, not a student there (as the bursary policy denied me possible entry) and I initiated real policy change. I was not supposed to be the person who did that either. It seems I have a habit of stumbling into battles that matter.
I have been offered a place to study Social Innovation at Cambridge, pending a scholarship application. In a way, it feels like this work has already begun.
What I Am Asking For
One simple change: explicit, opt-in consent before any company sends alcohol to your home or leaves it in hotel rooms or gift baskets. A clear tick box. An active choice. Not something buried in terms and conditions nobody reads.
I want HelloFresh and Thatcher’s to answer my questions publicly and transparently.
I want the law to reflect the reality of what companies are doing.
And I want the people this affects – those in recovery, those with faith-based objections, those managing complex health conditions, foster carers, families – to know their right to a safe and alcohol-free home is not something to be shamed and disrespected.
Please consider signing the petition. Every signature counts.
If You Would Like to Work With Me
This newsletter, this campaign, and everything you have read is produced by me – a disabled, autistic woman in recovery, doing this vital advocacy work in her own time because it matters. However, these are specialised professional skills, and the reality is that I am not in a position to do endless work for free. My lived experience, advocacy work, and ability to start conversations that matter have value, and I treat them as such.
I offer speaking, writing, consultancy, and advocacy work – including work surrounding neurodivergence, addiction, disability, and mental health. My services include talks at hostels, universities, and community organisations; policy reviews and awareness work; written content and media contributions; and consultancy for HR, DEI, and public health teams.
If you are a commissioning editor, podcast producer, broadcaster, event organiser, or an organisation working in alcohol safety, mental health, addiction, disability, or social policy – I would love to hear from you.
I bring lived experience, rigorous thinking, and a demonstrable ability to move people. If that sounds like what you need, get in touch.
Get in touch: samantha@idinclusion.org
Three things you can do right now:
1. Sign the petition 2. Share this newsletter 3. Leave a comment
Every share reaches someone who needs to hear this.
With determination, and a very empty can of cider!
