I’m an 18-year-old virgin sexaholic. I came to SA in March 2006, worried I wouldn’t be accepted because I’ve never had actual sex. But at my first meeting I was assured that I was quite qualified.

My sexual behavior started with masturbation. My sexuality began with romantic fantasies; that’s really the key to my acting out. When I started attending public school in the 5th grade, I was already addicted to the idea of girls and relationships. I met my first girlfriend in the 5th grade, and I would email her. Once I ended an email with “love you” and felt rotten as soon as I sent it. Our relationship didn’t warrant that emotion, but I felt compelled to write it. In the next 12 minutes, I logged on 13 times to see if she had replied. In those days, we got charged a flat rate each time we logged onto the Internet, and when my mom got the bill she asked me why I hadn’t just logged on and stayed on. But I couldn’t because I would check, then feel bad for checking, then log off. Then I just had to check again. That sort of behavior stuck with me.

I had strings of girlfriends and masturbated the whole time. I fantasized constantly about the girls at school. But I got labeled by the girls in my school as a prude, because I wanted to be sexual and romantic but didn’t have any idea how to do it.

When I was in 7th grade, one of my friends was getting sexual with a girl who wasn’t even his girlfriend. I wished I could do that. I had a girlfriend, but all I could do was hold her hand. One night when I was leaving her house, I felt it was time to kiss her. It would have been our first kiss. So I leaned over to kiss her, but I missed and got her on the cheek. instead. That was the epitome of my inability to be sexual. She dumped me for missing our first kiss, and I got labeled as a prude who couldn’t even hit the lips. I made a silent vow that I would not be a prude anymore, but I couldn’t change. That’s who I was. Sex, I couldn’t do it.

That year I started drinking and doing drugs. It seemed to help; I felt cool when I was drunk. I would steal alcohol for people, including for my brother and myself. I got good at drinking and smoking pot and doing pills and other stuff. I could finally go to school and be a tough, cool kid. I’d always been sort of the geeky smart kid who was trying to be cool. But now I felt cool being drunk and stoned. I also felt that sex and anything to do with girls and romance would be easier this way.

My drinking and sexual behavior became interwoven as time went on. In the 8th grade, sex was very much in my mind but on the back burner because drinking had a more direct effect. I’d go to school drunk, get drunk after school, and get drunk at night. I progressed rapidly in my alcoholism; I was surprised how fast. As it progressed my craziness and not caring about people also progressed. I went from being a pretty good kid, loving my parents, and doing what my mom told me—to very quickly being out of control.

I started getting into trouble with my drinking. I’d go to school drunk for days in a row. As I drank and masturbated, I became a different person. I was a jerk. I was mean to people at school. Once I picked a fight with a kid in school for no reason and punched him in the face. I’m not violent; it was just stupid. I ran from school because I didn’t want to get caught drunk.

The worst part of it was my mom. My brother was in deeper than I was with drugs and alcohol. My parents had just decided to send him to a $40,000 rehab. They didn’t have the money for this, but they took it out of their retirement. I didn’t think it was a big deal that my brother was leaving. I just thought, “Darn, I can’t drink with my brother anymore.”

I was in the principal’s office and my mom came in. I had been the good kid up until then, but when she found out I was drunk she broke down and cried. I didn’t care. Today, I can’t imagine a mom going through that, but I felt no emotion as I watched her bawl. I was saying, “Mom, stop crying, it’s not that big a deal.” I was insane. But at that moment I also realized I had a problem.

So after five or six months of messing around with pot and other drugs, I ended up in an outpatient treatment center. My goal was to be the best outpatient person there, and my behavior did get a little better. I graduated from that program and started going to church with my parents, and I found some goodness there and some help.

About 7 months later, my brother came back from rehab, where he’d been for a year. In less than two weeks, he went to a party and I decided I wanted to smoke pot again. I thought of all the reasons that it wasn’t against the Bible to smoke pot. I don’t know why I thought I had to do that . . . but I ended up going partying with my brother that night.

I would drink a lot of cough syrup that contained a drug, and take various pills. When I was drunk, I would go to the grocery store and steal erotica books, and sit in my car and drink and act out. Deep down, I knew I had no reason to do this. I have great parents and a great family. My dad and mom worked hard to give me a good life. I felt bad. I thought, “I should be a good kid, but I’m just a screw-up. I shouldn’t do this.” But I couldn’t stop; I was masturbating daily.

I never looked at much Internet porn because my mom was good at blocking it. It was easier to go to the store and get magazines. Masturbation and fantasy became huge and compulsive. Eventually I would just get the thought to masturbate and I would have to go do it.

All this time I was involved in my church. I looked innocent; I played on the worship team. One of my more shameful memories is the time I got drunk before church, and then my sister and I played a special song for the offering, and I was playing drunk. I remember thinking, “There’s something wrong here; just yesterday I was thinking of making my own translation of the Psalms.” I had been thinking that if I got more connected with the Psalms I would get healed. I had a lot of compulsive religiosity behavior.

My continual masturbation had a bad effect on me. After acting out, for the rest of the day I could not connect. I’d get irritated at stupid things. I’d blow up at my parents or my siblings. It started progressing. I remember when voyeurism started. I worked at a coffee house and had a lot of voyeuristic thoughts about the customers. Lots of romantic fantasy, like, “That girl really wants to marry me.” I could tell. But the shame got worse every time I masturbated. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. Why wasn’t my faith helping?

One night I had a gay sex dream. I thought I was the only guy who’d ever had a dream like that. I worked with a gay guy, and I was starting to think about acting out with him or asking him about gay things. That was painful because I knew I wasn’t gay, but I suddenly wanted to be gay. That dream was the next step for me.

I made plans to go on a missions trip with my youth pastor and some other guys to help out at a church up in Canada. Four days before the trip I stole a bunch of cough syrup and pills. I had a ziplock bag full of pills, and I was doing those and drinking before the trip. The day of the trip my mom found a red pill on the floor of my room. She knew what it was because she’d caught me before. I had been lying to myself, “I’m not really doing this, I’m fine.” And then, suddenly it was over. Instantly. I started bawling. My mom is great and we talked. I called the youth pastor and confessed, and he came over. I ended up going on the trip.

I knew all of this insanity was related to my sexual acting out. I could not stay sober in AA and could not stay sober from drugs if I was acting out. I had known masturbation was wrong for me for a long time. Once, way back when I was in the outpatient treatment center, my counselor had mentioned just in passing that in Seattle they have SA meetings. I always remembered it. And I always thought, “Maybe I need this Twelve-Step-for-Sex thing.”

So I looked up SA online and read the 20 questions. I related with most of them. But I thought, “I don’t know; I’ve never had sex!” I was in complete denial. I called the number on the website and left a message. Then I came to SA. I felt a great sense of relief after my first meeting. What I’d been seeking in church and my own strivings was what I found there. I felt peace. I heard members tell their stories, and I shared some of my story. I was glad when I realized “They seem to think I’m a sexaholic! So I can come back!”

I started attending that meeting but the next few months were difficult. My sponsor said, “It gets worse before it gets better.” It did get a lot worse, because now every time I acted out I felt worse than before. I started having lust for my dog. I started having lust for my sister. One time I acted out and felt like I needed a hug, but I didn’t want anyone to touch me. So I lay down in my parents’ bed with my little brother and read him a book and was trying to connect. But I couldn’t lie next to him because I was lusting after him. The thought that I was lusting after my brother just about killed me. This was really getting bad.

In July 2006, I went on a vacation with my family up the coast. I was sober for three days before we left. My sponsor had given me a plan for the vacation, but I didn’t follow any of it. I acted out every day. I ruined the vacation. I should have been having the time of my life. My parents paid for awesome dinners, I got free coffee every morning, we stayed at a place right by the beach—and every morning I was killing myself with acting out. Then I would resent my parents for stupid reasons.

On the beach I’d pretend I was sunbathing, but I’d be acting out in my head. I didn’t want to do it. I tried calling my sponsor, but the call didn’t go through. I was on the Internet trying to hook up with an old fantasy partner. Then I’d think, “I can’t be doing this,” and I’d leave and go sit out in the living room with everyone else. Then I’d go do it again.

When I got back from vacation, I started participating in daily renewal phone meetings, and I started getting better. The meetings are timed for the east coast, so it was 4:30 or 5:30 a.m. my time. But I participated in those meetings every day.

The last day I acted out was the last day of my vacation, July 8, 2006. My sobriety date is July 9, 2006. I started calling my sponsor and actually being honest. I started calling when I felt like acting out, and I would feel better. And I thought, “I should try that again, that worked!” It was simple. I felt like crap; I called my sponsor; I felt better. I’ll do that again. It works.

Then I started working the Steps. When I shared my Step One I felt like a new person; like the shame was gone. It was huge for me. I’ve also done a lot of work with my romance and relationship addiction. That’s what fuels my acting out, that need for a person to fulfill me. I’m not good enough by myself; I need someone to do it for me. Now, I talk to my sponsor when I’m attracted to girls at school. I go to college, and I’m attracted to a lot of girls. But I can talk to my sponsor and that helps.

I recently started taking salsa lessons at my church. I asked my sponsor about this and he said, “Maybe it’s an individual thing. I don’t know how many sexaholics are going to take salsa lessons.” A woman from Peru teaches the class; it’s real salsa and I love it. Taking these lessons is a way for me to step out. I think some of us sexaholics tend to think, “I’m sober, I’m going to avoid everything that could take this away from me.” But I’ve found that the more I go out and do things that are hard—with wisdom and honesty and checking in—the more I have to work my program. I have to surrender in the moment and bring things into the light. There’s always something to bring into the light.

The salsa lessons have also been good because I’m timid by nature, but when dancing I have to lead the girl, initiate the spins, and decide where we’re going on the floor. I have to put myself out there. I’ve had to learn a new, healthier way of relating to women rather than just lusting.

I’m young, and one reason I’m grateful to be young is that I haven’t wrecked marriages or wrecked kids. Marriage and family are still ahead of me. If I want that I can have it. That’s a gift. I’m thankful that God led me to SA, where I could find the help I needed.

God has also allowed me to continue being involved in music. I write music now. That’s also something I’ve worked on with my romance addiction. I’ve written songs accessing the part of my heart that’s scarred, but that can love people and eventually will love a woman in a real way.

My gratitude list today is mostly about people. The thing I used to fear the most—other people knowing me—is what I cherish the most today. When I see my mom I can say, “My mom is awesome!” and believe it. I don’t have to pretend to not be resentful. I can go home and love my mom and dad despite their character flaws. Every one of us has character flaws, but I have grace for people today because SA had grace for me. They said, “For a young guy, you’re pretty screwed up too; we’ll let you in.” I want to show that grace to others.

Today, I’m most thankful for my sobriety. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m one of the youngest people in this fellowship, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to share my story.