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Dear ESSAY

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God Is Even at the Swimming Pool

Sometimes the most beautiful things happen, even early in recovery. Having two kids, ages 2 and 4, gets me to places I’d rather avoid as a sex and lust addict.

As a treat for the children, my parents invited us on a little weekend trip to a holiday village close to where we live. In these kinds of villages, accommodations mainly revolve around the center plaza, with a subtropical swimming paradise as the main attraction.

I had been dreading going for weeks, knowing it could get me into a risky place with regards to my sexaholism. My mind is, unfortunately, very photographic and the pictures my mental camera takes stay with me for a long time.

Once inside the swimming pool, things were tough for me. All around me, people in bathing suits were having a great time, going on waterslides and wild water rapids. Mothers sat lazily in bikinis around a children’s pool, talking and enjoying their day. Everyone was having a great time. But not me. Being in a crowded place filled with temptations is too much for an addict.

As I am powerless over lust, it was impossible not to look. Things were heading down the wrong path very quickly. I kept staring at the ground, the ceiling, and my children, praying to my Higher Power to guide me through this and to keep me from lusting. Oh, how I wanted to reach out to my sponsor, Fries. I knew he could talk me through this thing. But all of our cell phones were left in a locker at the entrance, so there was no way I could reach out to fellows. 

I needed to get away NOW! Drunk on lust, I got up and started looking for a quiet place. In doing so, I passed the food corner of the swimming pool. And there it was. One could order a portion of french fries in the food corner! My sponsor, Fries (in Dutch pronounced /friːz/ or ‘freeze’), was right there with me in my time of need. 

I was reminded that pain is necessary, but suffering is optional. There is always a way out. My God loves me so much that He brought my dearest friend in recovery to me so I wouldn’t get overpowered by the need to act out. God, thank You for helping me recover.

Michiel R., Ghent, Belgium

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