I’m a grateful recovering sexaholic woman, sober since October 22, 2001. I was thrilled when I was asked to share my story at the January 2013 Convention in Atlanta. The last time I was in Atlanta was for the January 2002 Convention, when I had just returned to SA after a seven-year relapse. At the time, I was afraid I would be rejected and shown the door. Instead, I don’t think I’ve ever felt such love as I did when I arrived. I remember being welcomed by my old friends: Art, Sylvia, Roy, and many others. I hope that I can carry the message to anyone who has left this program, that it’s never too late to come back. You will always be welcome here. That welcome is what saved my life.

I loved the theme of the Atlanta convention: “The Courage to Change.” I believe that courage is the alternative to lust. Courage is what we get when we surrender to God. In the Serenity Prayer, we ask God to give us courage. I think I’ve always needed courage.

I came from a lot of fear and emptiness. My early lust and acting out were all about fear: mostly fear of not having what I needed. I was always trying to fix things or make things happen my way, and I resorted to lust and fantasy at a very young age. I was really excited when I first saw pornography. I got it from my best friend’s father’s stash. I looked for it often. But I noticed that my friend was never as interested in it as I was.

The pornography and my fantasies gave me an illusion of control. I would make up a story of how things would go, and I would keep repeating the story, even though it had no basis in reality. I lived in fantasy. By the time I was 14, I was into masturbation. Today I can see that this was my way of getting away from the noise of my family: mostly the noise of my parents arguing or my mother doing something that bothered me. The way I learned to escape all this noise was with fantasy and masturbation.

One thing I think I was seeking was the feeling of having “arrived.” That’s what I really wanted. I remember the first time I felt that way. I was 16 years old. I had just gotten my braces off and I had new contact lenses. I thought I was beautiful! Also that summer, I met a 17-year-old boy who seemed sufficiently rebellious, cynical, and challenging to make him very attractive to me. He reminded me of a favorite character in a novel I had read. My fantasy was complete. I was also using alcohol and drugs at the time, and this contributed to my fantasy life.

The feeling of having arrived didn’t last long however, and after that summer things went downhill. My disease took me into desperate lusting and a frantic need for affirmation and attention. I was angry at men and felt safe with women—and I went into same-sex lusting. I lived in that lifestyle for five years. This was a very dark time in my life.

Over the next few years, I got into recovery from alcohol and drugs, as well as from compulsive overeating. At age 26, for the first time in years, I was at my normal weight again. And once again, I believed I had “arrived.” This was a particularly sweet victory because, thanks to my recovery, I had been able to leave the same-sex lifestyle behind. Men were attracted to me again, and I was attracted to them!

I started cruising AA meetings—although I didn’t admit that’s what I was doing. “Please connect with me and make me whole” (SA 203) meant, to me, “Please lust after me.” That was the best high I had ever experienced. But this backfired. After one or two affairs, I found myself preying on an AA newcomer. I had been in recovery long enough to know that was a bad thing to do. I judged others harshly for this behavior, yet now I was doing it. I was very lucky that by then I knew about SA.

I lived in New York City at the time and attended meetings of several Twelve Step fellowships. I knew SA members from some of those other meetings and even attended an SA meeting in early July 1985. I wasn’t interested in SA at first because of the requirement of no sex with self or anyone other than a marriage partner. But in August, when I found myself in this newcomer’s apartment telling myself that he wasn’t “really” a newcomer, I knew I was lying to myself and raced back to SA.

That first meeting was held in a dark basement in Manhattan. I didn’t want to be there. But they were talking about what I was experiencing, so I began attending regularly. That’s when I got sober—in August 1985. I’m grateful to all of you who helped me there at first.

In April 1986, we held an SA marathon in New York. Several long-time sober men and women came, including three men from Washington, D.C. I had just been accepted to professional school in D.C., and these men told me about their great fellowship in Washington. They invited me to visit.

In August 1986, I moved to D.C. and became active in the SA fellowship. I was also active in international service, and I began attending international conventions. My first SA convention was in Bozeman, MT in 1987. That’s where I met many other old-timer women, one of whom became my sponsor. That beloved sponsor took me through the Steps.

In 1989, I became chair of our tiny Intergroup and learned a painful lesson about the group conscience. In the summer of 1989, our Intergroup was planning to host a convention in Baltimore the following summer. I was sent to the 1989 convention in Milwaukee to put in our bid to host the July 1990 convention. Instead, I suggested that the convention be held in Seattle! That’s when the AA convention would be in Seattle, and I thought they should be in the same place.

Because of my behavior, we almost lost the bid to host the convention. In the end, we did get the bid (no thanks to me), but members of my Intergroup witnessed my actions, and at the next Intergroup meeting I was fired. In fact, I was banned from the Intergroup! I went home and called my sponsor, expecting sympathy. Instead she directed me to work the Steps on my wrongs as a trusted servant.

I miserably wrote an inventory and surrendered to my sponsor what I had done, but when it came to Step Eight, I was horrified at the prospect of making amends to these ungrateful Intergroup members! Yet within weeks, that is exactly what I did. I’ll never forget the transformation that working the Steps with my sponsor brought about in me. I was at peace, and suddenly those people I resented were my friends again.

In July 1993, I attended the convention in Nashville. But by this time I felt that I needed to “arrive” again—and for me, that meant being married. I thought SA should arrange for me to find a marriage partner! But it wasn’t happening.

Right after that convention I met a guy who was impressive in many ways. We both worked on Capitol Hill. I just knew that he was Mr. Right! But he made it clear to me that he was not interested in SA sobriety. I struggled greatly over this.

I went to another SA convention in Rochester in January 1994. I was even one of the speakers. But I spent most of the time in a phone booth talking with Mister Right instead of participating in the convention. Two months later I left SA. I would not answer the phone or return program phone calls because I was acting out with my boyfriend.

Sadly, I can chart my downslide from that moment. My depression started in March 1994. I experienced all the insanity of being back in the acting-out scene, including job problems, more job problems, and finally, losing my job. This led to treatment for depression. My boyfriend was losing interest, so I moved in with him, thinking that would fix things. Finally, the relationship ended—but not until I had someone else in the wings. And things got much worse.

I found a new job and started acting out with a colleague. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I was uncomfortable with my behavior, and the lower I felt about myself, the less employable I became—even though I supposedly had a lot of experience. Over time, my confidence completely disintegrated. I got into acting-out behaviors I’d never been into before. I even found the Internet, which had not existed before. I thought I was smart because I only used free stuff!

I was a mess, trying to get what I needed. In fact, one day I was so desperate to meet with my latest acting-out partner that I was hit by a Mack truck! I was driving around Washington Circle in rush hour traffic, trying get to Virginia for a rendezvous. As I entered the Circle, I failed to yield right of way—and I was hit by the truck! Fortunately everyone was driving slowly, so the truck driver just sort of pushed me around the circle.

Finally I stopped the car—and also stopped all traffic. I insisted that the police come, because I was sure that it was the truck driver’s fault! But the policeman informed me that I was to blame; I had failed to yield. You’d think that would wake me up. But no—like the man in “A Personal Story” (SA 17), I just continued on to my rendezvous. Even though there was a huge gash in the side of my car, I kept going.

A few days later, I went to my insurance company to make a claim. The adjuster looked at the car and said, “Lady, it’s clear that you failed to yield.” After more evidence of insanity you’d think I would be ready to quit. Yet it took more than a year, and another acting out partner, for me to return to SA.

I was still attending other fellowships, but I would hide if I saw an SA member. Then one day I ran into a man I knew from SA. I went over to chat with him because I thought he had left SA. He seemed surprised to see me, and I was surprised to learn that he had returned to SA. He convinced me to go to an SA meeting the next day.

I don’t know why I agreed, because I was positive that everyone in SA would tell me to get lost. So I put on my brightest lipstick and shortest skirt and went to that SA meeting, ready for a reaction! I was ready for them to tell me to leave! Defiance is the outstanding characteristic of many a sexaholic (see 12&12 31). But there I was in October 2001, back at an SA meeting—and much to my amazement, nobody sent me away. I was loved back into that room.

Still, I struggled at first. I remember telling an SA woman that I was planning to go to Italy with my boyfriend. She read me the riot act! So I called another woman and complained about the first woman’s attitude—but the second woman said the same thing! My thinking was still insane, but by the grace of God, I was back. And what I remember most is the tremendous amount of love in these rooms.

The reason I mentioned courage at the beginning is that I think that’s what we get when we surrender to this program and work the Steps. When we ask God for courage, He grants it. I was able to do what I didn’t want to do. I wrote a letter to that boyfriend, with my hand held very tightly by Sylvia. She dictated what I should write: “Do not contact me at all.” And I sent the letter.

After that, I had a lot of Step work to do. I had ignored my family. My mother suffered from Alzheimer’s, and I had not gone home to visit her. In the meantime my father died. I had promised him that I would help out with my mother, but I did not. So I had to go home and make amends.

When I made amends to my mother, she couldn’t respond. She wasn’t talking by that time. I could tell that she heard me though, and I heard her. When I asked, “What can I do to make it right?” I heard her response, even though she didn’t say any words. I heard her say, “Don’t stay away. Be here. Visit me.” So I did.

Then I had to make amends for work situations. Early in sobriety I had taken a new job, but I was still totally distracted by my social life. I was not doing the job the way it should have been done. My boss was in business for himself, so when I slacked on the job, it was noticeable. And I was fired, in sobriety.

Six months later I felt the need to make amends. My sponsor helped me figure out what to say, and in spite of my fears, I went to see this man. I acknowledged that I hadn’t been available for the job; I had not done what he needed me to do. Much to my amazement, he was impressed! He was a man of strong moral principles, and he had never had anyone do that before. But his response didn’t matter. I made my Step Nine amends because that was what I was supposed to do.

Today in recovery, I feel I’m being asked to be compassionate toward my coworkers—people whom I was happily judging before. I would love to tell you about how irrational they all are, but instead I’m being asked to be kind and loving to them. I’m grateful to have been given the enormous gifts of sobriety, recovery, and peace of mind. These gifts enable me to behave in the ways that our program suggests.

Recently a coworker wanted to talk to me about a work situation she thought was awful. I didn’t agree with her, but instead of arguing, I managed to keep my mouth shut and just listen. It’s only by the grace of God and the changes He has made in my life through recovery that I can handle these situations with kindness.

I also believe that it is my responsibility to give back. Not just in the fellowship. I’m grateful to give back to the fellowship, but our program teaches me to be compassionate toward all people, even those with whom I don’t want to be compassionate. The results of following program principles are more than I ever expected. I’m experiencing the truth of the Eleventh Step prayer: “For it is by self-forgetting that one finds. It is by forgiving that one is forgiven. It is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life” (12&12 99). Today I’m embarking on dying to self, and I’m amazed at how this comes back to me as a blessing. I want to feel God’s love for others, not just be nice to them. And I’m beginning to experience the blessings of this behavior.

Recently, a woman I know from another fellowship came to me in tears. She shared that as a married woman, she was in despair because she had a crush on another man. The more she talked, the more I knew what she was talking about. I said, “Oh yeah, the intrigue, the tease, the forbidden” (SA 203). She looked at me as if I’d been reading her mail! She was amazed that I understood.

She hasn’t come into the fellowship yet, but it doesn’t matter; the conversation was a gift for me. Normally I would have been afraid to speak to this woman because she seems to have it all together. But by practicing our program principles, I was able to be of service—just by listening and letting her know that I understood.

I believe that God gives me these opportunities to serve throughout my life, and it’s because you in the SA fellowship have taught me to look for them. So whether it’s at my home group, at a business meeting, at a convention, or just in everyday living—I look for ways to be a sober woman today, and to carry the message of a loving God to the next person I meet.

The Twelfth Step also teaches me to keep practicing these principles in all my affairs. I need all of you to keep me honest, and to love me in spite of my defects of character. I thank you all for being on this road with me and for loving me back to sobriety. I’ll keep coming back.