Arriving in SA, all my powers spent, I entered a new world: a world where meetings, the White Book, the Twelve Steps of SA, a sponsor, and fellow sexaholics were already there waiting for me. Through these tools I received the gift of sobriety. I knew enough to be grateful for my group. Alone, I had never been able to stay sober. I was eager to contribute to the life of the group, first as coffee maker, then leading meetings and doing a variety of service jobs.

I was still new in the program, not sure whether my newfound sobriety would hold. A handful of members, all sober longer than I, began to spread disturbing ideas in the meetings. They questioned our meeting format, the emphasis on sobriety, even the Sobriety Definition itself. We would no longer call ourselves sexaholics, give our sobriety dates, or share personal check-ins—“That’s just shame-talk!” they said.

I was very confused—my sponsor’s sponsor was the principal spokesman for the rebel faction! They were proposing something different from the SA meetings we knew—would it even be SA? Would my infant sobriety find the sustenance it needed to survive?

The fellowship in our town was in anguish—we had to do something! We gathered for a day of Inventory. In the morning we discussed the Problem—what was wrong? What was not working? What was out of whack? The afternoon was devoted to brainstorming the Solution: What did we need as a fellowship? What could we do? Which SA principles did we need to keep?

There was no vote, no group conscience—but the voices affirming SA principles and SA sobriety rang loud and clear. Although I did not know it at the time, I realize today that was Tradition One at work: we were diligently seeking our common welfare. The would-be reformers drifted away. Meetings again became safe havens where sobriety could be “caught” from one member to another.

That was 20 years ago. The fellowship in our town has grown and prospered, thanks in large part to the unity of the SA fellowship. The tender seedling of my sobriety grew and matured. Tradition One is a constant reminder to me that I need to foster SA unity in order to preserve my sobriety—my very life—and the lives of others. As the long form of this Tradition states: “SA must continue to live or most of us will surely die.”

Today the groups in our town use the Declaration of Unity, adapted from AA, to close our meetings. United by our common history, we never want to forget how a band of disaffected ones threatened our survival. As we join hands in the circle, we say:

“This we owe to SA’s future:
To place our common welfare first,
To keep our fellowship united,
For on SA unity depend our lives,
And the lives of those to come.”