My name is Renee. I’m 39, a mother of three, and a former HR manager from Sacramento. This is my gambling recovery story for moms—and for anyone who has ever felt too ashamed to speak their truth.

I never imagined I would be that mom—the one hiding unopened credit card bills in the back of a dresser drawer so my kids wouldn’t see. The one skipping dinner and pretending I wasn’t hungry because I had lost grocery money on a glowing screen. The one standing in the dark kitchen, telling my children the power company must have made a mistake—when I knew the truth was sitting in an empty bank account.

But that’s who gambling turned me into.

It started small—online bingo, a harmless distraction after the kids were asleep. Then came the slots. Then sports bets. Every time, I told myself I deserved a little escape. That it was my way to unwind. That I could stop whenever I wanted. But the truth? I wasn’t escaping stress—I was trying to disappear from myself.

The Breaking Point

One afternoon, my youngest daughter—just seven—stood in the doorway holding an invitation in her small hands. “Mom,” she asked, “why can’t we go to my friend’s birthday party?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The real reason? I had gambled away the gas money days before. She looked at me, waiting for an answer that never came. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. My chest tightened until it felt like it might split in two.

In that silence, I saw it—the shift in her eyes. The quiet recognition that something was wrong with her mom. Shame hit me like a tidal wave. That was the moment I knew: if I didn’t change, I wasn’t just going to lose money. I was going to lose them. And I couldn’t let that happen.

How I Started Healing

I told the truth—first to my sister, then to a counselor, and eventually to a room full of women in a support group who knew exactly where I’d been. Saying it out loud stripped the secret of its power.

I faced the numbers. I made a budget, called the bank, and started chipping away at the debt one payment at a time. It wasn’t fast, but every dollar paid back was a brick in the bridge back to stability.

I worked on rebuilding trust. My kids didn’t need a perfect mom—they needed one who showed up, who told the truth, and who made them feel safe again.

I learned to forgive myself. This was the hardest step. Shame keeps you trapped; forgiveness is the key that opens the door forward.

What Recovery Looks Like Now

Recovery for me isn’t a finish line—it’s a choice I make every day. I’m still learning. Still growing. Still choosing strength over secrecy.

Here’s what’s different now:

• I’m not hiding anymore.
• I’m not gambling anymore.
• I’m not ashamed anymore.

If you’re a mom battling gambling, please know this: you are not alone. You are not a failure. You are not beyond help. You are worthy of recovery. And your story is far from over.