I had been in the program for several years before I finally met Roy K., although I believe we talked over the phone during those first years. I remember Roy’s passion for spreading the message, his courage, and his principles. Those qualities came through clearly in his conversations as well as his writing.

I joined SA in 1984, a few months after breaking up with a fellow who had been my “lover.” This man had died suddenly of a mysterious new disease, which we now call AIDS. I was shocked that a man who seemed so healthy had died so suddenly. I was consumed by fears: would I start having sex with people without telling them I was infected? In desperation I prayed, “Please help me, Lord!”

Not long after those desperate prayers, I “happened” to overhear another same-sex-attracted man talking very loudly in public. He shared that he was a member of a new Twelve Step sexual abstinence program that advised complete mental and sexual abstinence for lust and sex addicts. It was called Sexaholics Anonymous.

I had never heard lust discussed as an addiction, like alcohol or illegal drugs, but I recognized the similarities. I joined this new program and was told that I would have to stop lusting. Paradoxically, the wording of SA’s Step One reflected how impossible that would be: “We admitted that we were powerless over lust—that our lives had become unmanageable.”

During my first few years in SA, I wanted the sobriety definition to be redefined. I thought Roy was puritanical. I considered that the sobriety definition—no sex with self or anyone other than a heterosexual marriage partner—would be impossible for me. I was right. By then, I had become consumed with lust. I could have never stopped on my own. Fortunately, I kept coming back. I found that with the help of God and others, it is not impossible. But it was difficult. To stay sober, I needed the help of the recovering men and women whom God placed in recovery with me.

At the meetings I attended, most of the other men talked about their acting out with women. However, I readily identified with them, and they with me, no matter what our ways of sexual acting out had been. They did not scorn me; they were helpful. I learned that meetings are safe places. It is okay to be honest. God gave me the grace to keep coming back. After only a few years of working the Steps and sharing with others, I began to realize something very surprising: I was getting far more real love and acceptance in the meetings than I had ever gotten in my sexual relationships.

It took me a few years before I recognized the wisdom of my program’s definition of sexual sobriety. During these struggles, Roy loved me and others enough to tell the truth, even when it was unpopular. He did what God called him to do. He kept reiterating SA’s bottom line and insisted that the sobriety definition applied to men and women of all backgrounds. Today, I have found this to be true for myself.

Even as my physical health has declined, my spirituality and self-awareness have grown as a result of my continued pursuit of this God-given program. Roy did more for me than I can possibly express. Many wonderful blessings came my way when I finally learned to surrender to this program, surrender my lust, and work the Steps in SA.