Should You Tell Your Kids About Your Addiction? A Guide for Parents in Recovery

Your kids are going to find out.

Maybe they already know pieces. Maybe they have heard whispers at family gatherings or caught a look between you and your mother that said more than words ever could. Maybe they sat in a church service where you shared your testimony, and now they are old enough to understand what "I used to struggle" actually means.

The question is not whether your kids will learn about your past. The question is whether you will be the one to tell them, and whether you will do it in a way that serves their hearts instead of just relieving your conscience.

The Tension Every Parent Feels

Here is what nobody tells you about recovery as a parent: the shame does not always disappear when the drugs do.

You got clean. You rebuilt your life. You are showing up now in ways you never could before. But there is this nagging fear that lives in the back of your mind. What if my kids find out who I used to be? What will they think of me? Will they still respect me? Will they use my story as permission to make the same mistakes?

And if we are being honest, some of that fear is not even about the kids. It is about us. It is about the other parents at school functions who might look at us differently. The in-laws who already have opinions. The invisible wall that goes up when someone hears the word "addict" and forgets to hear "former."

Rob Grant, who works in recovery ministry alongside me, puts it this way: "A lot of times we try to hide things, maybe not necessarily to protect our kids' hearts, but because we're embarrassed."

That hits differently, does it not?

So before we talk about what to tell your kids or when to tell them, we need to settle something first. God did not save you so you could spend the rest of your life pretending you were never broken. He saved you so the broken pieces could become part of the story.

What Scripture Shows Us About Broken Stories

Look through the Bible and you will find a consistent pattern: God uses people whose resumes should have disqualified them.

David was a murderer and an adulterer. His story is not hidden in some obscure passage. It is front and center, with songs he wrote about his failures included in our worship. Peter denied Jesus three times, and that moment of cowardice is recorded in all four Gospels. Paul called himself the chief of sinners, and he spent the rest of his life telling anyone who would listen about the person he used to be.

These stories are not buried. They are showcased.

Why? Because there is something about a redeemed life that points people to God in a way that a polished, problem-free story never could.

There is a Japanese art form called Kintsugi where artisans take broken pottery and repair it with gold lacquer. The cracks are not hidden. They become the most beautiful part of the piece. The brokenness is what makes it valuable.

Your story works the same way. The years you spent in addiction, the relationships you damaged, the moments you wish you could take back, those are not things to hide from your children. They are the cracks where God's gold shows through. This is the foundation of moving beyond your broken past—understanding that what you did is real, but who you are is redeemed.

The Real Question: How Much Do You Share?

Here is where wisdom has to kick in.

Sean Feucht has a saying that has stuck with me: "Share your scars, but not your open wounds."

The distinction matters. A scar means the hurt is over. The wound is closed. There is healing, and you can talk about what happened from a place of wholeness. An open wound is different. It is still raw, still painful, still actively bleeding. You cannot give someone else healing from a wound you have not healed from yet.

So the first question is not "What should I tell my kids?" It is "Have I received healing in this area?"

If you are still in active addiction, still wrestling with shame that has not been addressed, still carrying trauma you have not processed, then dumping that on your children is not transparency. It is burden-shifting. It makes them responsible for things they were never meant to carry.

But if you have done the work, if you have walked through the pain with Jesus and come out the other side, then your story becomes a gift.

Age-Appropriate Depth

The depth of what you share should match the maturity of who you are sharing it with.

Your five-year-old does not need to know you shot drugs into your arm. They need to know that Daddy made some bad choices before they were born, and Jesus helped Daddy become the person he is today.

Your teenager can handle more. They are navigating peer pressure, identity questions, relationship dynamics. They need to know that their parent understands temptation because their parent has faced it. They need to see that failure does not have to be the end of the story.

As Rob explains it: "The age determines the depth, but not the truth. The older you are, the deeper I'm going to go with you. But the truth has stayed the same since she was a kid."

The truth stays consistent. The details expand as they can handle them.

Let It Happen Organically

This is not a campfire moment where you gather the family and announce, "Tonight, I am going to share all my war stories."

The best conversations happen naturally. You are driving your kid somewhere and they mention something about a friend making bad choices. You are watching a movie that touches on addiction and they have questions. They come home upset about something at school and you see an opportunity to connect.

In those moments, you meet them where they are. You share what serves them, not what unburdens you.

Rob shared how this looks for him: "It's me and my son in the car. We have this natural conversation about something. And I open up that door. I say, 'Man, when I was your age, do you know what dad used to do?' And then it's just having this dialogue with them."

What You Are Really Building

Here is the part most people miss.

The goal of sharing your story with your kids is not to impress them or scare them or guilt them into good behavior. The goal is trust.

Your kids do not need you to be perfect. They need you to be honest.

When you admit that you have struggled, that you have failed, that you are still figuring some things out, you give them permission to be imperfect too. You become a safe place. You become someone they can come to when they mess up because they have seen that you do not pretend to have it all together.

Think about what that means for their future. Someday your daughter might face a temptation she does not know how to handle. Someday your son might make a choice he is ashamed of. In that moment, will they feel like they can come to you? Or will they hide, convinced that you could never understand because you never let them see that you were human?

Your vulnerability now creates their safety later.

As I have told my own girls: "My kids don't need me to be perfect more than they need me to be honest."

When Your Kids Have Seen Your Addiction

Some of you reading this have children who witnessed your addiction firsthand. They saw the chaos, the arguments, the times you were not present even when you were in the room. They remember things you wish they could forget.

This is harder. The wound is not just yours. It is theirs too.

For you, the work is different. You are not introducing your kids to your past. You are acknowledging what they already experienced and taking responsibility for it.

This means apologizing, not just once but as many times as they need to hear it. This means answering their questions even when it is uncomfortable. This means letting them be angry if they need to be angry, and not defending yourself when they express hurt.

And it means showing them, day after day, that the person who hurt them is not who you are anymore. Not through words. Through consistent action over time.

That is not a one-conversation fix. That is a lifetime of showing up differently. If you are wrestling with how to rebuild those relationships, restoring broken relationships requires the same principles: ownership, consistency, and time.

The Redemption Your Kids Get to See

Here is what keeps me going.

My kids have had a front-row seat to recovery ministry for sixteen years. They have seen the worst outcomes of addiction. They have watched people walk through our doors broken and leave transformed. They have also seen people who did not make it.

But they have also seen something else. They have seen their father living proof that the story does not have to end in destruction.

I never graduated high school. I was shooting meth at fifteen. And now my daughters get to do things I never did. When they succeed in school, I get to tell them, "You're doing something dad never did. You're further along than I was at your age." And they light up, because they realize this is not just their story. It is ours.

Rob said something that wrecked me when we talked about this: "Those moments that my choices cost me with my parents are now redeemed with my kids."

That is what is available to you.

The things you lost, the time you wasted, the relationships you damaged, God is not interested in erasing those things. He is interested in redeeming them. And the place where that redemption often shows up first is in your children.

Your past was not wasted. The sevenfold blessing you were promised may not show up in your life. But it might show up in theirs.

What This Looks Like Going Forward

If you are trying to figure out how to navigate this with your kids, here is a starting place:

First, get honest with yourself about where you are in your healing. If you are still bleeding, get help first. Your kids need a healthy parent more than they need a confessional.

Second, let conversations happen naturally. Do not force a big reveal. Watch for moments where your story might serve them, and meet them there.

Third, match the depth to their age. The truth stays the same. The details expand as they mature.

Fourth, keep it redemptive. This is not about glorifying your past or trading war stories. Every time you share, point to Jesus. Show them where the story leads. If you are wondering how to frame your testimony effectively, sharing your story the right way matters as much with your kids as it does from a stage.

Fifth, let your life be the evidence. The strongest testimony is not what you say. It is what you do. Let them see you live differently, and the words will land with weight.

Your kids are going to find out who you used to be. Make sure they hear it from you, told in a way that shows them who you have become.

This post is based on a conversation with Robert Grant. For the bigger picture on moving from recovery to restoration, read Rebuilding Life After Addiction: The Complete Guide to Freedom.