As a teenager, I was pushed into treatment. I learned about Twelve Step programs there and worked my way through Step Five, but it was only the barest of beginnings and I really didn’t understand how the Steps worked. I loved the program, the history, the meetings, the instant friends everywhere, and the fellowship. I took on many service jobs. My understanding of recovery was to go to lots of meetings, participate in the fellowship, and have fun. “Sober and Crazy” was one of my favorite slogans.

I thought that good sobriety was measured in years of abstinence. I thought it was cool to be a recovering addict. I thought after so many years of sobriety, I would be a sage or a guru, God’s right-hand man. Other members would flock to seek my wisdom. So I went to lots of meetings, tried to sound wise, and craved approval. For me, the most important things were looking good and getting attention. I stayed sober largely to fulfill those needs and wants.

Throughout this time, I never really gave a concerted effort to working the Steps. I wanted to be a sponsor, but I had great difficulty asking for help and being a sponsee. After all, I argued to myself, I was staying sober and going to meetings. I read the literature and the Steps. I was involved in the fellowship. I knew it all. I didn’t need a sponsor.

I was also spending a lot of time pursuing my education and career. My desire for recognition and applause to overcome my low self-esteem underscored these pursuits. It was another priority in my life that I placed ahead of working the Steps. But after six years of experience in AA, my sex addiction was out of control. I had a load of pornography. I got my girlfriend (now my wife) pregnant, and this pregnancy resulted in an abortion. I was always looking, lusting, fantasizing, and masturbating. I was exposing myself frequently; I got arrested for exposure. The law scared me straight and I found SA.

I fell in love with SA. I loved being able to share and identify with other sexaholics. I loved having a safe place to talk about these shameful secrets. I felt the purging power of the group. But soon my desire to be the best kicked in. I started to stay sober. I became an SA teacher and leader right away. I loved the approval I received. SA was still in its beginnings. It was a romantic idea to me that I was part of this noble fellowship at that time. I loved the idea that perhaps one day, I would become an SA guru.

I bought into the SA sobriety definition. It was important to me to be faithful to my wife and not masturbate, expose myself or be a voyeur. However, the part that states “true sobriety includes progressive victory over lust” sort of went over my head. It’s not that I disagreed with it. I just didn’t think it was a priority. If I went to an R-rated movie and was ‘surprised’ by a nude image, I would look at it, and then go talk about it at a meeting. I thought it was okay to touch myself occasionally or maybe even masturbate a little, as long as I didn’t masturbate to climax—and talked about it at a meeting. With these half-measures, I maintained my sobriety (such as it was) for fifteen years. Today, I don’t recommend following this model.

Things began happening which helped to tarnish my sobriety date badge. My family life was stressful. I began to get more and more resentful toward my wife. For years I had the on-and-off fantasy that someday my wife would die and then I could have sex with another woman. I was looking at other women on the streets or in the malls—looking for my next mate.

I wanted to be an SA guru, but members weren’t worshipping the ground I walked on. I began to realize my insanity in this area. By this time I had a SA sponsor, but I hadn’t been rigorously honest with him. I began to reveal to him how I allowed lust in my life. He confronted me about my lack of honesty and integrity; he even questioned my sobriety. I hated being called dishonest because I really thought I was being honest. I hated the thought of having to consider re-setting my sobriety date, because it was a real status symbol for me. I based a lot of my self-esteem on it. At the same time, I began to ever so slowly accept the truth of my sponsor’s words. I was just astonished that I had been deluding myself all these years. I was going to need all the help I could get if I was going to grow in continuous, progressive victory over lust.

In the last five years, my sponsors have helped me re-work the Twelve Steps, or perhaps to work them for the very first time. I contacted them on a weekly basis for direction on how to work the Steps. I did everything that they asked me to do. Usually the different actions they prescribed were complementary with each other, and every action they told me to do was good for me and helped my recovery. With their help, I stopped looking at women. If I were tempted to look, I would turn my head and pray “God, whatever I’m looking for in lust, let me find it in you. Grant her a joyful, peaceful life.” If I saw a woman in the distance walking toward me, I would avert my eyes and pray. Then I would look her directly in the eyes, smile and say “Hi,” and move on. In this way, I acknowledged her humanity while at the same time surrendering temptation. With strict boundaries, discernment and help from my sponsors, I can now view movies, TV and the Internet. I do not touch myself, with the exception of hygiene, or in the context of sexual intimacy with my wife. I consider any other touching a slip.

These tighter boundaries have freed me to regard women with greater respect, and myself with less shame. My wife and I have survived. She has told me that she appreciates me listening to her rants without judging her. Both she and I know that I’m devoted to her and our kids no matter what.