I’ll never forget the day my manager called me into his office. “I have something to tell you,” he said. “There’s something I need to get off my chest. I have a problem … I owe a lot of money.”
I had a sense he gambled. He had a VIP parking spot at a casino and often talked about the free gifts and fancy dinners they gave him. I figured he went a lot—but I had no idea how deep it really went.
I was shocked to learn it was a gambling addiction. He’s very faith-based, and his father was a minister. I just didn’t expect it.
His disclosure stirred up a lot of emotions. At first, I was kind of mad. Why was he telling me this? Why put me in this position? I felt like I shouldn’t even know. And because part of his job involved overseeing money, I worried—was my paycheck at risk?
Then my thinking shifted: How do I support him without enabling him? And since he was my boss, how do I even navigate that? I felt torn between what was best for me, for him—he was also my friend—and for our employer.
I remember when we were planning a team-building event and he suggested having it take place at a casino. I told him I wasn’t comfortable with that. That wasn’t easy to do, but it felt good to hold that boundary.
Still, I cared about him and wanted to help. I knew I was in over my head, and that he needed more than I could offer. Luckily, I knew someone who had been through addiction recovery himself. He’d always been honest with me about his experience.
My manager was open to meeting him. So the two of us, along with his daughter, met him for coffee. He shared what recovery looked like—offering hope but also reminding him that he had work to do.
Looking back, I realize how powerful it is when people open up and share. My manager’s honesty—and my friend’s willingness to tell his story—really showed me that.
I’m happy to say he’s doing well now. He’s in counseling, attending meetings and has put other safeguards in place.
I’ve learned a lot from this experience. Recovery takes a village—you can’t do it alone, and you can’t be someone’s only support. You can help connect them to resources, but ultimately it’s their road to walk. You didn’t break them, and you can’t fix them.
Boundaries matter. Be kind but firm. And don’t judge. Behind every issue—addiction, depression, narcissism—there’s a deeper wound. The behavior is just a symptom.
In the end, compassion is everything. No one’s perfect. But recovery is real—and it’s a great place to be.