Learning to Be Honest

My sponsor here in Wales suggested that I write an article for ESSAY as an indirect amends for some blatant dishonesty from my past. Simply put, during my teenage years, I made up stories about having a girlfriend in order to impress schoolmates, and with the hope of attracting some female attention. Not a very glamorous dishonesty, but shameful and painful for me. My sexaholism was never glamorous and quietly destroyed me in a very unspectacular fashion.

At age seven, I had an experience in which two girls teased me, leaving me with feelings of humiliation and desperation. I wanted to run away. From that point on I would fantasize, obsess about, and worship girls. I was guilty of voyeurism and lots of attention-seeking behavior, but I never approached any of them. I hoped that they would approach me, declare their undying love, and ask me to go out with them. On the rare occasions when one of them did, I would reject her—thus taking revenge for my earlier experience. Then I would hate myself, and would repeat the behavior or move on to the next unfortunate focus of my obsession.

I never grew out of this practice. It became a core feature of my sexaholism, overlaid with masturbation, pornography, and prostitutes. Most girls (and later women) ignored me, but some were genuinely confused and hurt by my mixed messages. I went insane with this obsession, which brought me little contact with real women.

By my late teens, it seemed that girls were mostly ignoring me. I was masturbating heavily and consumed with lust, craving the “real thing.” On two occasions, I concocted elaborate stories of a fictional girlfriend. I hoped that this would increase my standing so that I could talk to the girls I was obsessing about. Then perhaps one of them would want me to split up with my fictional girlfriend and go out with her. I also hoped that it would make me feel more normal, and thus more accepted by the boys. None of this worked.

These behaviors led me to exaggerate and occasionally trot out a complete lie to sustain the madness of my sexaholism. I was always lonely, depressed, and isolated. I felt inadequate, painfully shy, and hopelessly lost in my secret life of acting out. To the outside world I tried to project self-sufficiency and popularity, with lots of friends and social events to attend (fabricated). Most of all, I lied to myself. By my early 20s, I was dead inside and leading a sad and lonely life.

Step Seven asks me to humbly ask God to remove my shortcomings. This means that I would need to ask Him to remove my habitual dishonesty so I can start practicing honesty. My low self-esteem says, “No way. I’m fundamentally unacceptable and must put on a façade just to survive.” Today I can see the grandiose self-pride in this belief. In truth, I’m just another recovering sex drunk. Sometimes I feel it is easier to lubricate my life with untruths. In my disease, tact, diplomacy, and compromise (virtues) can be twisted into rationalizations for not telling the truth (defects). In recovery, I’m learning to distinguish between these.

But what of the people to whom I told my tall tales? I’m willing to make direct amends to them. Making direct amends wherever possible is what really puts the seal on a change in my behavior. It brings me out of the fine words in my prayers and writing (which flow relatively easily) into putting “these principles into practice” with real people (which I find difficult). In the meantime, in the instances where direct amends are not possible, I’ve settled for an imagined amends with three chairs: God supervising in the one chair, me in the second chair, and the wronged person in the third chair, listening to me say my amends eyeball-to-eyeball. It’s a great tool. I feel that I’ve done everything I can for now, but I hold myself open to direct amends if by a “God-incidence” the people become available.

Today I still struggle with rigorous honesty. I still tend to exaggerate or minimize. On the job, I am tempted at times to pad my expenses as I rationalize I’m entitled to this (I commit to stopping this now as I’ve said it!). And my disease has the great final fling, asking, “What is truth anyway?”

My truth is that I’m a sexaholic, and this is the best explanation of “me” that I’ve ever found. I live this recovery program or I die. If I’m not honest with others I cannot be honest with myself, and this will cause me to find an excuse to lust at some time in my life. Lust will destroy me. So I’m going to keep working on honesty—and try to avoid creating too many opportunities for more amends.

Michael B., Wales, UK

Greetings from Wales, UK

SA in Wales began in the summer of 2006, when two members started meeting on a grass verge at a motorway service station. This got a bit wet by autumn, so we moved into rented accommodations, where we’ve been meeting ever since on Sundays. We’ve grown slowly, and recently started a second meeting on Wednesdays. Both of these meetings are in Cardiff. We are now attempting to establish a group in Aberyswyth.

We always enjoy having visitors and Wales is a great holiday destination, so drop in and join us some time! Contact us through the UK website: www.sauk.org or call the SAUK 24-hour helpline at 07000 725463.

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