The following is an exercise that I have found helpful for getting a sponsee started on working Step One:

O God, I ask Your help Divine
Whenever I must go online.
I tell myself that I love art,
Their sculpted forms; my heavy heart.

7 ½ Step Prayer
My Creator, I am now willing that you should have some of me, as I see fit.

Being rigorously honest has meant that I am truthful to myself about what I am thinking and feeling. I have a large capacity for self-deception. For instance, I was a very angry person but did not realize it. I had fears that controlled many of my actions. But if anyone had asked me if I was fearful, I would have said “no,” believing that to be an honest answer.

In early recovery, sexual dreams were a new and scary experience. Prior to sobriety, I had only experienced one “wet dream.” It occurred early in what turned out to be eleven and half years of celibacy. The only SA program literature available at the time seemed to indicate that these dreams were a loss of sobriety, so I re-set my sobriety date each time one occurred.

When it comes to recovery, I have a learning disability. If I don’t hear program truths coming out of my own mouth and the mouths of others, I tend to forget what I’ve already learned.

My thinking is often confused when I get a lust hit. My fantasy goes on overdrive and I imagine several scenarios that seem very real and possible. Much of this is triggered and supported by emotions that make the fantasies appear reasonable: “Of course she wants me to stop my car, go over and hug her!”

Lack of power, that has been my dilemma. Not only am I powerless over lust, I am powerless over everything else.

Although I have discovered a number of people I had harmed who did not appear in my Fourth Step, the list of people against whom I held resentments was an excellent place to begin. I had to remember that in the Eighth Step I was merely making the list.

I admit that, through lust, I have warped my mind into such an obsession for destructive acting-out that only an act of Providence can remove it. Lust bleeds me of all self-sufficiency and all will to resist its demands. I am bankrupt. My personal weakness is the firm bedrock upon which a happy and purposeful life can be built.

An open letter to my Oklahoma City SA and S-Anon friends!
You provided a first class convention, hotel, meeting location, and down-home hospitality for the July 2004 convention.

When I was a boy growing upon the farm, I was a very private, shy person, and it was very hard for me to ask anyone about sex. So when my neighbor introduced me to sexual activity, I was ashamed to talk to anyone except the priest in the confessional.

Here is a selection of comments we have received with renewals for the ESSAY.

At SAICO in Tennessee, we are entering the summer season with a positive, upbeat outlook on life. The weather is better and things are looking up. The deficit that we had to carry for the last two years has shrunk to about $1,000 since the first quarter.

After 20 years in AA, I joined SA in 1997. Because I was knowledgeable about the Twelve Step program, I thought this would be easy. I just needed to admit I was powerless over lust and that my life was unmanageable. All would be well. I was totally wrong.

Step Six requires quiet contemplation of the work we have done. There are several questions on pages 75 & 76 of the Big Book. These are not rhetorical questions! The foundation is complete willingness. The cement is our common solution. The cornerstone is coming to believe in a Power greater than ourselves. The keystone is Step Three.

New Format for an SA Meeting
Good evening. My name is _______________, and I am a recovering sexaholic. Welcome to this meeting of Sexaholics Anonymous.

This opening phrase of our version of the St. Francis prayer offers me a degree of comfort and hope unlike any other prayer. Whether sitting in my chair for morning meditation or out walking the dog, those words begin by centering me on “Lord” rather than “me.” For this addict, that’s the best possible first step toward serenity.

I identified with this expression the first time I heard it. How often had I worked myself into a lather of rage because people weren’t doing things MY way? How often had I sunk into despair because I was sure life was not working out well? The answer to each question was, “Every day!”

I just hit nine months of sobriety. I knew it was getting close, but I didn’t expect it quite this soon. This got me thinking: what good is counting anyway? I once had sixteen months, and it vanished overnight. I actually have only 24 hours—since yesterday. Tomorrow, it could be gone in a few minutes.