Recently I had an exciting opportunity in my recovery—something I had never done before. I was invited to tell my story to a group of Russian SAs. Did I travel to Russia? Not exactly. Am I proficient in the Russian language? No way. Was this all a dream? Sort of. Let me explain.

An SA member from Russia (who is studying here in America) invited me to speak to SA members in Russia about my experiences as a sexaholic in recovery. This was to be done electronically from my home computer. I would read my story sentence by sentence to the SA here, who would translate it into Russian for a small group there. They could hear, but not understand, me speaking English, and vice versa. Afterward there would be a chance for impromptu questions from them.

As I prepared my talk, I was both excited and apprehensive about doing it. I enjoy writing, so preparing my story was relatively easy. The apprehension came at the thought of being put “on the spot” by questions I might find uncomfortable or difficult to answer honestly. The old voices of doubt and shame tried their best to deter me. “Who me? I’m not capable enough, or well enough, or interesting enough to be worth listening to for an hour. I’ll be boring, or stutter, or make a fool of myself in some way. Better not try to do it—maybe another time.”

Another voice from within spoke differently. “Of course I can do it. Maybe not perfectly, but certainly in an adequate manner. I have some sobriety, I’m working the program, I sponsor people and I do service work. I have something worthwhile to contribute. In a way I’m an ‘expert’ on being a sexaholic and I’m learning to be a recovered one. Progress, not perfection, as they say.”

Knowing that my Higher Power was with me, and my listeners were somewhat eager to hear my story, I prayed for strength and guidance to share my experience, strength, and hope in a way that might be helpful to my “comrades” half a world away. More importantly, I needed to do this for myself—for my own growth in recovery. How many times I have said in meetings, “I can’t keep it if I don’t give it away.” Here was a chance to be useful to others like me, who would understand and relate to my journey. I had to do it.

So on a Saturday morning at 10 a.m. (6 p.m. Moscow time) I sat nervously before my computer and began to share. I’ve never spoken by translation before, but I soon got used to it. I began to relax as the words flowed from English to Russian. I could feel a oneness with my listeners, despite the geographical and linguistic distance. As the White Book says, I felt like I was home. The time flew, the questions were sincere, and I could feel the appreciation of those listening. When it was over I breathed a sigh of relief and thought of what my granddaughter says after accomplishing a difficult task: “I did it! I did it!” And I was glad I did.

Will I ever get to Russia in person? Probably not. But I have already “been there” in a sense more important than physically. I have been there personally, and have shared myself with others with whom I never dreamed I would have the privilege. I have truly become part of SA’s international outreach—carrying the message to those whose language I cannot know, but whose experience I am acquainted with intimately.

Wow!