Jenna O: An Honest Chance – July 2026 Alumni Spotlight

5/2/2024 – I crashed my car and wound up on crutches with bruised ribs and an even more bruised ego.

Nothing was coming to save me. Not time. Not luck. Not another apology. Not another promise.

I’ve been asked if that was my rock bottom.

Honestly, I don’t know.

I called Mountainside the next day.

Some people around me didn’t think I needed treatment because I had gotten pretty good at seeming okay. I wasn’t. Recovery began with the first real act of kindness I’d shown myself in a long time: telling the truth.

I remember walking into Mountainside terrified. I wasn’t scared of never drinking again. I was terrified of meeting myself without alcohol. I didn’t think she was someone I wanted to meet or anyone else would like. Looking back… she deserved a chance.

When I left treatment, I tried to figure out the “right” way to recover. Everyone had an opinion. Read this book. Work this program. Go to this meeting. Don’t miss that meeting.

Eventually, I stopped asking whether I was doing recovery “right” and started asking a better question: Is this making my life better? Is it practical for me? What do I actually need to heal?

I have tremendous respect for the people and programs that save lives every day. Some of that guidance changed my life. Some of it didn’t. I stopped performing recovery for other people and started building one that I could actually sustain.

Quitting drinking wasn’t the hardest part. Sobriety opened the door. Walking through it meant rebuilding the person I’d torn down.

Before recovery, I had completely lost myself. I had gotten really good at being the one who always seemed upbeat or okay. I confused being enjoyable to be around with actually being okay. They weren’t the same thing. I was a chronic people-pleaser who measured my worth by approval, usefulness, and achievement.

One of the best things I ever did was seek professional help and tell the truth. Not “mostly” the truth. Not the version that protected my ego. The truth.

Therapists aren’t mind readers. They can only treat the version of you that walks into the room. If you’re minimizing or leaving parts out, you’re only delaying your own healing. They’ve heard it all before. Tell them the truth.

(And if my therapist happens to be reading this… thank you for never letting me get away with my own nonsense, for patiently helping me untangle years of it, and for introducing me to the version of myself that deserved a chance. I still think you deserve a raise.)

Over two years later, I’ve attended weddings, birthdays, holidays, and even my own wedding sober. I’ve learned that boredom doesn’t need a fast-forward button disguised as a glass of wine. Sometimes it just needs a hobby, a project, a walk, or the willingness to sit with yourself. Turns out that’s a lot easier when you actually like yourself.

Today, I’m the owner of a business I love, married to the love of my life, and living in a reality I don’t feel the need to hide from.

There are so many people who helped me get here – my husband, my therapist, my mom, my family, and my incredible friends. I’ll spend the rest of my life being grateful for them.

They believed in me long before I believed in myself.

Maybe that day wasn’t my rock bottom. But it was the day I finally became honest enough to start climbing out of the hole I’d spent years digging for myself.

Looking back… I deserved that chance. And I guess that makes me grateful to this version of myself, too.