60 seconds with erin smith: “recovery is the privilege of growing, living fully, and being present.”

September is National Recovery Month. It’s an opportunity to increase public awareness of mental health and substance use disorders, celebrate individuals in recovery, and honor the service providers and communities who make recovery possible.

This month is very close to my heart as I’ve seen the loss and heartbreak associated with the disease of addiction. But I’ve also seen many, many, many miracles as a result of a person finding recovery. 

Erin Smith is one of those miracles.

I’ve known Erin for more than a decade, and over that time, I’ve had the honor of watching her do one of the hardest things a person can do – never give up. Erin has continually shown up for life, for the people in her inner circle, and today professionally, she continues to show up for the person still struggling with addiction as Director of Outreach and Community Relations at StepOne Service. 

In this Q&A, Erin shares what recovery means to her and how her personal recovery impacts her professional life. 

It’s a privilege to know her and to witness her growth over the last 10+ years, and it’s a privilege to share this with you today.

– steph

toth shop (ts): September is National Recovery Month, so in 10 words or less, what does “recovery” mean to you? 

Erin Smith (ES): Recovery is the privilege of growing, living fully, and being present.

ts: What's a myth about substance abuse/addiction you wish more people understood?

ES: I wish more people understood just how fulfilling life without alcohol or drugs can be. There’s often this idea that life in recovery will be boring – less fun, less exciting, somehow smaller. My experience has been the exact opposite. I have 16 full hours every day to work, play, connect, grow, and actually be present for my life – even the difficult parts. People also tend to believe there are some things in life you simply can’t endure without a little numbing. That hasn’t been my experience either.

Recovery has given me the opportunity to face challenges directly – to feel them, work through them, and move forward – instead of burying them and allowing them to grow into something bigger that I’ll inevitably have to face someday anyway.

ts: You’re in recovery yourself while working on the frontlines of outreach. How does your personal journey shape the way you approach your work?

ES: My personal journey profoundly shapes the way I approach my work. Each day, this is more than just a “job” to me – and I know that is true for many people within our company. My approach to outreach is simple: connect people with lifesaving resources that are compassionate, ethical, and genuinely invested in their long-term success. Numbers, KPIs, and strategy have their place, but they are not what drives me. What matters most is the impact our efforts have on individual lives.

Tracking outcomes and measuring our efforts are important because they help us understand whether we are making a meaningful difference – not simply because they give us a box to check. At the end of the day, the work has to serve the greater good of the person who is suffering. If we lose sight of even one person, we’ve lost sight of why we’re doing the work in the first place.

ts: How do you protect your own recovery and peace while pouring energy into helping others enter theirs?

ES: I protect my own recovery and peace by maintaining a strong work/life balance and encouraging the people I lead to do the same. I’ve worked in roles in this field that demanded 24-hour access to me, and I answered the bell because I cared deeply about the people we served. But as someone with lived experience with addiction, I learned that I cannot truly protect my own recovery when there is never an “off button.” Addiction doesn’t have an off button either, which is why we have to build strong networks of colleagues, friends, and community partners with different abilities and schedules. When someone is ready for help, someone should be there – even if that person can’t always be me.

Vacation days are used, protected, and sacred. A few years ago, our CEO actually reminded me of this when I started answering emails while still on PTO. He told me to stop: my PTO didn’t end until the next day. That stuck with me, and I now try to model the same boundaries for my team.

Outside of work, I attend meetings to maintain my recovery, go to therapy, travel, connect with other recovering addicts, and spend plenty of time on the couch with my fiancé and our pets. Protecting those parts of my life allows me to continue showing up fully for the work and the people I care about.

ts: Every person we interview answers this same question last – Mile 18 is generally considered to be one of the hardest miles in a marathon. You’re hitting a wall. You’re forced to dig deep. What’s mile 18 in your line of work, or at a point in your career, and what do you tell yourself when you find yourself in the middle of a mile 18?

ES: “Mile 18” in my line of work sounds like this: Patient X calls at 6:30 on a Friday evening. They have no insurance, no ride, no family support, nowhere to sleep tonight, and they don’t want to die. They don’t want to keep living like this.

Meanwhile, I’ve come to the end of a long week filled with administrative and HR responsibilities, sometimes travel out of state at 5 a.m. to get there on time for the first meeting via two connecting flights, alongside the daily work of connecting people to resources, creating social content to engage community partners so they know we’re here and ready, and having weekly discussions back-to-back with team members navigating troublesome situations. I’m tired. Did I make an impact this week? The couch is calling my name. But there’s still a little more in the tank.

So, we make a few more calls. We talk to the patient: “What can you commit to? When can you be ready? What have you already tried? What worked? What didn’t? We’re going to find somewhere for you to go. Have your bag packed.” Then the calls start. We’re shot down: “We don’t have a bed today.” “We can only accept these insurances.” “We can’t safely manage that comorbidity.” “Our assessment team has left for the day.” We find a way, no matter what.

That’s the final push – not because we aren’t tired, but because someone on the other end of the phone is at the end of their road and is ready to change their life. Someone did it for us, so we do it for them.