This is episode 7 of the Gambling Still Sucks podcast. In this episode, we’ll discuss coming clean to your family and friends about your gambling problem.
Hey there, and welcome to the Gambling Still Sucks podcast. My name is Jamie. I’m a compulsive gambler, and I’m also the host of this show. I haven’t gambled since July 15th of 2010.
In an earlier episode, I mentioned the importance of coming clean to family and friends and how it can help you overcome your gambling problem. Today, I want to dedicate this episode to some of the thoughts and strategies you might use, as well as some tips for when you decide to do this.
The first thing I want to start with is probably the best advice I’ve ever heard in a GA (Gamblers Anonymous) meeting. There was a guy there talking about how he was just starting to come clean to his wife about things. One of the older gentlemen, during his turn to speak, looked at the guy and said, “Go home and tell your wife everything. Don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t hide anything. Don’t hold anything back. Go home and tell her every ugly detail you have.”
At the time, I was about 18 months into my recovery, and this was the first time I had heard this advice. It sucked because I really wish I would have heard it on day one. There were things that I hadn’t shared with my wife because I was still in that mindset of, “This is my problem. I don’t want to drag her down into it.” I figured I could handle it on my own, but in reality, I wasn’t working on it as much as I should have been. This advice really hit me, and I remember thinking, “Why didn’t I hear that on my first night?”
By the time I heard this advice, I had 18 months clean, but I understood the weight of what it meant. I was living with a white lie—an omission—that I hadn’t fully come clean about, and I was jealous of others hearing this advice early on. That’s why I wanted to make this entire episode about it because this may be some of the best advice I can give you: Tear that bandage off, and do it just once.
If you’re still new to recovery, or even if you’ve already told your loved ones something but left details out, do it on your own terms. I didn’t do it on my terms. My wife ended up getting to a letter in the mail before I could, and that letter outlined my gambling problem that I needed to handle. We had a major setback after that. It was probably the worst stretch of my recovery, not because I was considering going back to gambling, but because the emotional fallout was incredibly difficult. It was something I should have taken care of myself, and I didn’t. It was that last thing I was holding back, and when it came out, it hurt deeply.
So, if nothing else, don’t do what I did. When you come clean to your family and friends—or if you’ve already done it but held something back—schedule another meeting and say, “I know I told you a lot, but there’s more I want to share. I only want to do this once.” This is part of the strategy. Tell them, “I don’t want to live with lies anymore.” Because you don’t. I didn’t want to, but I still felt so much shame and embarrassment. Once it came to light, though, things started getting better. That has been a recurring theme for me: when things come into the light, they start to improve.
Whatever lies you’ve told, whether they were lies of omission or straight-up lies, I encourage you to come clean to your family. If it impacts your friends, or if you have close friends you trust, you can tell them too, especially if they can help keep you accountable. Don’t do what I did—tell everything upfront. That’s the best advice I can give you.
Now, I know what you might be thinking: “Jamie, I can’t put this burden on my family or my wife. It’s not fair to them.” I thought the same way. But there are a couple of points to consider. One, things will always come to light. Doing it on your own terms is far better than it coming out unexpectedly. If you get caught like I did, it’s a bad place to be. The loss of trust came from the fact that I didn’t share it, not from what I had done. The action itself was in the past, but the trust eroded because I didn’t share that part of myself.
Also, your family and friends already know something is going on. If they know a little bit about your problem, they’re already worried. The best way to alleviate their worries is to be 100% transparent. If you sit down and say, “I want to tell you everything, I don’t want to leave anything behind,” you can rebuild that trust. Being honest means telling them everything—things that are uncomfortable, things that will upset them, things that might even make them cry. You’re not putting the burden on them; instead, you’re allowing them to understand what’s truly going on so they can support you.
Avoiding the truth only leads to mistrust. If someone had come to me during my early years and said, “This is what I did. I’m sorry, and I’m now going to be fully transparent,” that would have gone a long way to build trust. Coming clean and telling the truth helps start rebuilding a relationship on trust. The foundation has already been shaken, so it’s crucial to rebuild from the very bottom. You need to be vulnerable and say, “This is what happened, and this is what I’m ashamed to even tell you.” That vulnerability is what allows the relationship to begin healing and growing again.
It’s not about shifting the burden onto them; it’s about creating a new foundation for the relationship. If there is even just one loose brick in that foundation, like the one I had, it can cause significant problems. Clearing everything out, telling the full truth, and doing it once—that’s how you build a solid base to move forward. I promise you, you won’t regret it. It might not be the most comfortable thing to do in the moment, but it’s a vital action in taking accountability and starting to live differently.
The compulsive gambler in us wants to hide things, but the compulsive gambler in recovery needs to share things. I hope this helps you. If you need support, please reach out to me. If you need to know how to start the conversation, I’d be happy to provide some input. If you’ve had one of these conversations, please share it—let others know how it worked for you. Hearing success stories can make all the difference to someone else who’s struggling.
To wrap up, find your family and friends, come clean to them, and be fully honest. You will be so thankful that you don’t have to live the life of a lie anymore, and it will help immensely in your recovery.
Now, before you go, I want to mention a few important things. First, problem gambling is a treatable disorder. There is no scientific evidence suggesting that this is a terminal condition you have to struggle with for the rest of your life. While it might feel overwhelming at times, science does not back that up—recovery is possible if we seek the right help.
Second, help is available. Many states in the U.S. offer free counseling and therapy not just for gamblers but also for their family members. The best way to start finding help is to call the hotline number: 1-800-522-4700. Again, that’s 1-800-522-4700. This hotline is run by the National Council on Problem Gambling and covers all 50 states. They can help you find the resources you need in your area. There are similar hotlines available worldwide—just search for a gambling help or hotline in your region.
In addition to hotlines, there are numerous online resources for support. Visit gamblingstillsucks.com/help, where I’ve listed some of these resources. I’ll continue to update the list as I find more valuable information, whether they’re online forums, chat groups, or great articles.
As a disclaimer, this podcast does not provide legal or medical advice. I am not a doctor, therapist, or lawyer—just a guy who had a gambling problem. While I’ll share what worked for me, please seek help from a professional. The information here is for informational purposes only and should not be considered professional advice.
The music for this podcast is “Something Elated” by Broke for Free and is licensed under the Creative Commons.
Thank you so much for listening, and I’ll see you in the next episode.