I work in an office building, and there are many members of the opposite sex that I find attractive. That is God’s handiwork. It is not their fault that I am sexaholic, neither is it mine. But it is my responsibility to practice recovery. At times I can cross paths with these strangers in the building and meet them eye-to-eye, say hello, and keep right on walking with absolutely no thoughts about them. At other times, fantasy and objectification is alive and well. The frustration is this: there are times that I just cannot tell the difference between the ‘normal’ and the sick. I do not want to be sick—but I am.

My sponsor and I agree that Higher Power must really like us, because we are presented with so many opportunities to pray the prayer that we were taught: “God bless her and God help me.” It works. The thoughts that I once so reveled in, that now cause me so much discomfort, are relieved. I can walk through the building or anywhere else, without living in the problem. I can choose to live in the solution.

I may never be able to separate the normal interactions with members of the opposite sex from the interactions that will trigger me. But I will always have the tools of recovery that Sexaholics Anonymous has given me. For that, I am eternally grateful.