The first thing I remember from my childhood is that I spent every waking minute reading stories of beautiful, fragile princesses, who would be rescued by handsome princes on white horses. I would spend many hours going through every detail so that I could be just like a princess, so that when my prince arrived I would be ready to go with him and live happily ever after.

I was brought up in a family riddled with addiction (alcohol and sex), dysfunctional behaviors, and physical violence. I also suffered from guilt, frustration, boredom, and loneliness. When I was around five, I was sexually abused by the male caretaker of the apartments we lived in. Today I know that was my first “sex drink.” I felt how it numbed the pain of the life around me.

In primary school, I was attracted to boys, and I was especially obsessed with one boy. This was the beginning of a 40-year journey of obsessing over one man at a time, or one man after another. I would live and relive stories in my head, making up fantasies about how the man rescued me. This obsession was a source of pleasure; it helped me avoid the pain and disconnection I felt in early childhood. I also sought out brief sexualized encounters with other children. For example, I wanted to know what kissing on the mouth was like, or I wanted to play doctors and nurses.

I imagined I would grow up to be the princess in my storybooks, but to my dismay, in my early adolescence I was a small, chubby girl. I observed the other girls who were thin and beautiful, and I noticed how the boys pursued them. I was envious and wanted to be like those girls. That was the beginning of my future obsession with my body and my looks, as I dedicated a great deal of time trying to be an appealing sex object to be lusted after. I got my sense of worth from being the center of attention.

I would obsess about all types of boys in my school, but especially the strange ones—the hard-to-get ones. I would pursue an impossible love that would never come true, so that I could keep reliving in my mind how I could get the boy to fall in love with me. I was never interested in easy love. I only wanted the struggle, the long wait to finally be rewarded.

That never happened though, especially in my teenage years. Boys ignored me. They seemed to find me strange. If by chance I happened to spend a few minutes with one of the objects of my obsessions, I would feel awkward and want to run away. I didn’t know how to behave when I was confronted with reality. I only wanted the fantasy of what could be.

As a teenager, I started reading romantic novels. There I discovered intrigue and infidelities. I learned about how to plot to conquer the object of my desire, and I loved reading the sexual scenes. I started repeating these scenes over and over in my head, and I discovered masturbation, which took up most of my adolescence. Masturbation got me away from the pain of abuse in my home, as well as from frustration, guilt, boredom, and loneliness.

One night, when I was around 13, I had my first physical encounter with a man much older than I was. We did not have sex but the experience set me off on a search for constant physical contact with men. That episode was a turning point in my addiction. It blew my mind. It was stronger than any fantasy, romantic book, obsession, or masturbation. From then on my life turned into a constant search for my drug, while I ignored most of my responsibilities.

After that I was eager to have my first sexual encounter. That happened when I was 14, with a man much older than I was, and whom I had only met twice. I felt terrible afterwards, but the only way I could escape the pain was to fall even deeper into my compulsive acting out. I turned into a “man hunter.” I would go out in provocative clothes and makeup, and I would carefully lay out webs to trap them.

From the age of 14 to 17, I had constant sexual encounters with men. I was always searching for these encounters, but this made me feel more and more lost. I put my health and my life at risk, without protection. I would go away with men to their homes without even knowing where I was, and I returned home feeling lost, abandoned, and ashamed.

I had no values, principles, or morals. I would go out with a man without caring whether he was married, in a relationship, or the boyfriend of a friend of mine. The more attached he was to someone else, the better I liked him. I really didn’t want a relationship; I just wanted one-night stands with no ties, so I could keep acting out. Serious relationships scared me. When I tried to go out with good men I always ended up being unfaithful or hurting them with my behavior.

When I was 17, I began to feel scared of my behavior. I felt like a prostitute. People were talking about me, so I decided to disguise my addiction. I would act like a prude and look for steady relationships. I started a long list of steady relationships, but I was always unfaithful in the end, because I thought that each of them was not the man I was looking for.

I spent many years on a seesaw; sometimes feeling suffocated in a steady relationship, and then dying of loneliness and heartbreak from being single. There came a point where I couldn’t be with a man or without a man. When I was in a relationship, I would obsess about other men. I would think about the negative sides of the current relationship, and I would fantasize about finding a perfect man when I was on my own again.

When I was 23, I finally met a good man, and amazingly, he married me. But the marriage lasted only a year, as I left that man for a married coworker, after obsessing about him to the verge of madness. The married man left me after seven months, and for the next five years, my life became a living hell.

I partied, drank, and used drugs. I started taking sleeping pills, antidepressants, and anxiety pills to be able to get up in the mornings and get through my days. I was still in college, and I went from work to school in a daze. I barely passed my classes because my mind was always drifting to the hundreds of lust and romantic sex scenes that were playing in my head. Every day I reminded myself that I had destroyed my marriage and lost the only good man who ever loved me. In this madness I continued acting out. I got pregnant twice and had two abortions, leaving behind me two unborn children whom I still remember every single day in my prayers.

I constantly looked for physical and sexual contact with men. I was desperately seeking to find some comfort, sanity, and emotional support in my life—but love does not happen in this context. My sexual relationships were all a show. I pretended I was present, but I could never connect with any of them.

I kept thinking there was something wrong with my looks, so I put all of my attention on improving my appearance. I turned into a “plastic” woman; I had all the attention I was craving, but it was all superficial and empty. I needed to be lusted after every single day; if I did not achieve this, I felt sad and depressed.

When I was 30, my low and desperate self-esteem took me to an abusive relationship in which I thought I had gone completely insane. After two years of this psychological torture, I fell on my knees and asked God for help. At that point I knew I was powerless. A few days later, I read about a Twelve Step program in an article in the newspaper. It was an interview with an alcoholic, and the interviewer recommended that his family members to go to Al-Anon. After reading this, I began relating my problems to addiction.

So when I was 32, after two years in that abusive relationship, I started attending Al-Anon meetings. At the time I saw myself only as a victim of my family addiction. But in Al-Anon, I began to understand addiction and the addictive process.

However, I continued lusting in those meetings, and a relationship in those rooms took me to another “S” fellowship. That is where I started my recovery from my own addiction. At the time, I identified my problems as promiscuous behavior, flirting, and infidelity. I stayed single and I started to respect married men.

But the obsession and fantasy never left my mind. I was still acting out in my head. I thought I was sober, but I continued to masturbate. Finally, I could not stay single anymore, and I met another man. I thought that with my time spent in recovery, things would be different. But this relationship turned out to be my biggest nightmare, and it took me to a new bottom. At this stage, my life felt unbearable. I slowly became numb and frozen. I was completely paralyzed. I thought that I might jump out of a window.

It was in this state that I arrived at SA, on October 11, 2011. When I first heard the SA sobriety definition, I felt blessed. It was all I had ever wanted. I embraced SA sobriety from Day One, and I have been sexually sober since that first day.

As soon as I walked in the doors, I was told to get a sponsor, work the Steps, and go to meetings. I did not question this because I was desperate, so I obeyed. I worked my Steps one after another with my sponsor. This was a difficult two-year process, but it was worth every minute of pain. I’m grateful for the way my sponsor worked with me through this process; she was very strict and very loving at the same time.

When the huge waves of craving began to subside (which took quite a while), I then discovered a whole list of character defects. I have worked on these quite hard. The major ones are an ongoing process, so I work on them as hard as I did with lust. I am now three years and seven months sober, and my life has taken a big turn. I feel joy and peace for most of my days, and I feel part of the human race. I know where I belong.

Through this process, I was brought to my knees and became very close to my Higher Power. I have established a true connection with Him, and I have never felt lonely again. He sends me all the strength I need daily. Through all of this, I have been supported by the men in my home group, as I am the only woman. The men have become my spiritual brothers. I have also found fellowship and the support of SA women in a weekly English-speaking Skype meeting, which I attend every Saturday evening.

Progressive victory over lust is an ongoing process, but now when I discover a new disguise my lust has taken, I immediately ask for help. I start talking with God in my prayers, with my sponsor, and with other SA women. In meetings, I keep bringing my lust out into the light as many times as I need to, and I keep asking for help to surrender one trigger at a time. Each day I feel more and more peaceful.

After so many years of wondering what was wrong with me, I have found the solution in SA. Through SA, I have found progressive liberation from obsession and fantasy. I’ve become gradually more focused and able to concentrate on my daily activities. I have become better able to connect with others, and I have developed meaningful relationships with other SA members. I have also found a Higher Power Who means the world to me, and Who is my true life companion.

Today I can honestly say that I don’t wish to be in a sexual relationship, as I have found in God what I was looking for in a man. So now I can focus on building my life around the culture of sobriety and trying to carry the message to other women who are suffering from sexaholism. Today I am grateful to be a sober woman, and part of the Fellowship of Sobriety.