When Leslye arrived at Ashley, she didn’t yet have language for what she was experiencing—but she knew something was deeply wrong.
Her drinking hadn’t led to the consequences many people associate with alcoholism. She hadn’t been arrested. She hadn’t lost a job. But her life had quietly stalled. Dreams went unrealized. Relationships never fully formed. Purpose felt out of reach. What she recognizes now as alcoholism had been chronic, progressive, and quietly consuming her life for years.
Grief accelerated everything.
After losing her mother, the person who had taught her how to cope with life, Leslye’s world began to collapse inward. Within a single year, she attended more than a dozen funerals. Alcohol became her way of surviving the unbearable weight of loss, even as it slowly disconnected her from herself, her faith, and the present moment.
“I wasn’t living,” she recalls. “I was merely existing.”
At the same time, Leslye was watching the disease progress in someone she loved deeply. Her longtime friend and partner, Christopher, was dying of alcoholism. Witnessing his physical dependence stripped away any remaining denial she had about her own disease.
“I realized I was on the same train,” she says. “I was just a few stops behind.”
Leslye came to Ashley through an intervention—one she met with surprising clarity and willingness. Though the future was uncertain, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years: hope.
That hope deepened during her very first night at Ashley, when she read How It Works from the Big Book. For the first time in a long time, she believed that following a clear path might lead to freedom and she followed it thoroughly.
At Ashley, Leslye found structure that made sense to her logical mind, education that gave language to her pain, and a community that met her with authenticity and care. She celebrated her first sober birthday there—surrounded not by alcohol, but by presence, creativity, and love.
“It was the best birthday I’d had in ten years,” she says.
One moment in particular cemented her belief that she was exactly where she needed to be. After missing part of a spirituality class, she deeply wanted to attend, Leslye found herself unexpectedly sitting one-on-one with the instructor. Their conversation—about grief, faith, and signs ended with a small but profound moment: a familiar three-tap hug that mirrored how her mother used to embrace her.
“I couldn’t ignore it,” she says. “It was like the universe was saying, ‘You’re not alone.’”
That theme continued throughout her time at Ashley. Whether it was learning to ask for help, building bonds with peers who would become lifelong recovery companions, or discovering the power of “we” instead of “me,” Leslye left treatment grounded in connection, not isolation.
Today, Leslye has built a life rooted in service. She chairs meetings, sponsors women, works the steps year after year, and continues to deepen her recovery through multiple programs. She has walked others through grief she once thought would destroy her—including supporting women through unimaginable loss without picking up a drink.
Even Christopher’s death, as painful as it was, has taken on new meaning.
“If I can help one person stay alive one more day,” she says, “then his life—and his death—was not in vain.”
For years, Leslye asked God why her mother had been taken from her. The answer came quietly, much later, when she realized that her experience of loss had saved another woman’s life.
“That’s when it clicked,” she says. “All the pain can be used. All of it.”
At Ashley, Leslye was given something she thought she had lost forever: purpose.
“Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help another alcoholic achieve sobriety,” she says. “In that moment, my life made sense again.”
Her advice to those just beginning recovery is simple—and hard-earned:
“Stay. You don’t have to do this alone. We don’t shout directions from the top of the hole—we jump in with you, grasp your hand, and say, ‘Come with me. I know the way.’”
Every day, people arrive at Ashley searching for what Leslye found—understanding, connection, and a chance to rebuild their lives. Your generosity helps ensure those doors remain open. Support the future of recovery and help bring life-saving care to those who need it most.
