You Don’t Need Fixing —You Need Finding

Why Spirituality is the Heart of Addiction Recovery

By Laurél Kimpton, MPS, LADC

I recently stumbled upon a powerful YouTube short by Brian Trent (@trenttribe) that stopped me mid-scroll. The message was simple but profound: "You are not a project. You are a prize." And then came the words that summed up everything I believe about the work I do with my clients: "I didn't come to fix you—I came to find you."

I had to pause. Take a breath. Maybe even dab at my eyes a little (okay, fine, I definitely cried). Because this is it. This is the message I wish every single person walking through my door could hear and believe from day one.

If you have struggled with addiction—or loved someone who has—you have probably heard plenty of messages that suggested otherwise. Messages that made you feel broken, damaged, or like a problem to be solved. Here is what I know to be true: recovery is not about fixing your brokenness. It is about rediscovering who you have always been underneath the chaos.

The Difference Between Fixing and Finding

Let me be honest with you: I am not in the business of fixing people. If I were, I would be in the wrong line of work—and frankly, I would be exhausted. Trying to "fix" someone implies they are inherently broken, that something fundamental about them needs to be replaced or repaired. That is not how I see my clients. That is not how I see you.

Instead, I believe in finding. Finding the person who got lost along the way. Finding the strengths that addiction tried to bury. Finding the light that never actually went out—it just got covered up by a whole lot of pain, shame, and survival mechanisms.

When I sit across from someone in my office, I do not see a collection of problems to solve. I see a person with inherent worth and dignity—someone who deserves to be seen, heard, and understood. Not judged. Not lectured. Not treated like a project with a deadline.

You are a prize. And my job is to help you remember that.

Why Spirituality Matters in Recovery

Now, before you click away because you think I'm about to get preachy, hear me out. When I talk about spirituality in recovery, I'm not talking about religion shoved down your throat (though I will share my own faith perspective in a moment). I am talking about something much broader: the reconnection to meaning, purpose, and your truest self.

Addiction is, at its core, a disconnection dis-ease. It disconnects us from ourselves, from others, from hope, and from any sense that our lives have meaning beyond the next drink, the next hit, the next escape from pain. Recovery, then, must involve reconnection. And that's where spirituality comes in.

Spirituality in recovery means asking the big questions: Who am I when I'm not numbing myself? What matters to me? What kind of life do I actually want to live? It means developing awareness—true, honest awareness—of what is happening inside you. Not so you can beat yourself up about it, but so you can finally respond to life rather than just react to it.

Here is what I have witnessed in my years of collaborating with clients: those who engage with their spirituality—whatever that looks like for them—tend to develop deeper, more lasting recovery. They find an anchor that holds them steady when life gets stormy (and let's be real, life will get stormy). They discover a sense of purpose that makes staying sober feel less like white-knuckling and more like living.

The Power of Being Truly Seen

Can we talk for a second about how rare it is to feel truly seen? I mean really seen—not the polished version you present to the world, but the messy, complicated, imperfect human you actually are.

Many of my clients come to me carrying years—sometimes decades—of messages about who they are. "You're the screw-up." "You'll never change." "You're just like your father/mother/uncle who also struggled." "You're a lost cause." They've heard it from family, friends, employers, maybe even previous treatment providers. And the worst part? They have started to believe it.

But here's the thing: none of that is the truth of who you are. Those are stories—painful, harmful stories—but stories, nonetheless. And stories can be rewritten.

When I collaborate with clients, my first goal is simple: I want them to know they are seen, heard, and understood. Not as their addiction. Not as their worst moments. But as whole human beings with intrinsic worth. Here is what I've learned: people do not change because someone tells them they are broken. People change when they finally believe they are worth changing for.

You Already Have What It Takes

Here is a secret that might surprise you: you are perfectly capable of self-correction. Yes, you. The person reading this might be thinking, "She doesn't know my story. She doesn't know how bad it's gotten."

I've sat with people who have been to the darkest places imaginable. I've heard stories that would break your heart. And I've watched those same people rise, heal, and build lives they never thought possible. Not because I "fixed" them, but because they discovered something powerful: when you are aware, when you are present, when you are willing to do the honest, sometimes uncomfortable work of self-reflection—you can change. You can grow. You can heal.

My role is not to give you some magic formula or secret technique that will solve all your problems. My role is to walk alongside you as you learn to see yourself clearly—maybe for the first time. To help you develop the awareness you need to recognize old patterns and choose new ones. To point out where you have disconnected and walk with you as you reconnect with your Creator and with life. To create a safe space where you can be honest about what is really going on inside.

Recovery requires willingness—willingness to learn new strategies, try different approaches, and yes, sometimes fail and try again. But the good news? You do not have to be perfect. You just have to be willing. And you do not have to do it alone.

A Note on Faith: My Personal Foundation

I want to be transparent with you about something: I write from my position as a Christian. I am not a perfect Christian—not by a long shot. I have made mistakes, wrestled with doubt, and had my own seasons of feeling lost. But I have accepted Jesus as the Lord over my life, and that foundation shapes everything I do, including my work with clients.

Now, let me be clear: I do not require my clients to share my faith. Recovery is deeply personal, and your spiritual journey is yours to define. What I do believe is that there is something powerful about connecting to something greater than ourselves—for me it is God; and He is my rock! The wind can blow, emotional waves swell up, pointed words can be flung straight to my heart like a dagger wielded with evil intentions yet I can endure it all not of my own accord, but because of His grace, mercy, justice, and my favorite—His peace that I carry daily in my soul. This world was hard to bear before I put my life completely in His control.

For me personally, my faith reminds me daily that every person has immeasurable worth. Not because of what they have done or have not done, but because of whose they are. That belief fuels my conviction that you—yes, you—are a prize, not a project. It is why I can look at someone in the depths of addiction and still see the image of something beautiful waiting to be rediscovered.

Here's the thing about grace: it meets you where you are. You don't have to clean yourself up first. You don't have to have your life together. You don't have to deserve it. That's kind of the whole point.

Knowing Your Worth (No Matter What They Told You)

If there is one thing I wish I could reach through this screen and make you understand, it is this: your worth and value are not determined by what others have told you up to this point in your life.

Maybe you grew up hearing you'd never amount to anything. Maybe you've been called worthless, hopeless, or worse. Maybe the people who were supposed to love and protect you were the ones who hurt you most. I am so sorry. That never should have happened.

Here is what I need you to hear: their words were wrong. Their treatment of you was wrong. And their assessment of your value? Completely and utterly wrong.

You have worth because you exist. Period. Not because you have earned it. Not because you have proven it. Not because you have performed well enough. Just because you are.

Part of the spiritual work of recovery is unlearning the lies you have been told and relearning the truth about who you really are. It is challenging work. It is uncomfortable work. Sometimes it is the kind of work that makes you want to crawl back under the covers and pretend you never started. But it is also the most important work you will ever do.

Finding Hope in the Struggle

Let me leave you with this: recovery is possible. Real, lasting, life-changing recovery. I have seen it happen more times than I can count, and I believe with my whole heart that it is possible for you too.

It will not be easy. There will be setbacks. There will be days when you wonder why you even bother. (Spoiler alert: you bother because you are worth it.) But on the other side of that struggle is a life you might not even be able to imagine right now—a life where you are fully present, genuinely connected, and living out of your truest self.

Brian Trent was right: you are not a project. You do not need someone to come along and "fix" you. What you need—what we all need—is someone to come alongside us and help us find ourselves again.

That is what spirituality in recovery offers. Not a to-do list or a set of rules, but a pathway back to your own heart. A way to reconnect with meaning, purpose, and the truth of who you are beneath all the pain.

You are a prize. You are seen. You are heard. You are understood. And you are absolutely, completely, 100% worth the fight.

Now let's get to work—not fixing you but finding you.

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Inspired by Brian Trent (@trenttribe) — Thank you for the powerful reminder.

Watch the original video: https://youtube.com/shorts/M1FX5uSgVIA