When I came into the program, my life was in shambles heading downhill. I was late to my first meeting. I couldn’t find the room. At the church office I asked the ladies behind the counter where was “the men’s 12-step recovery meeting.” One hollered toward the back room, “Joyce, what 12-step meetings do we have running today at noon?”

The answer, loud enough for me to hear, was, “SA! That’s in room 14, down the stairs toward the parking lot.” Shame and fear were so great in me I could have just dried up and blown away that moment. What about “anonymity”? Didn’t these women know we don’t go around saying “SA”? That was more than six years ago. Last week I went to a meeting I had not attended in years. I did not know what room it was in. This time, in a different church, I smiled and asked the lady behind the desk, “Which room is the SA meeting in?” “Oh,” came her answer and she pointed me toward the room. There I found a newcomer wandering around, and I asked if she was here for the SA meeting. She blushed a little and said she was. I introduced myself and we set up the room for the meeting.

What a gift my Higher Power has given me to be a recovered sexaholic, a gift for which I can never be sufficiently grateful. Today I have nothing to fear from my fellows respecting anonymity inside our groups. Yet another blessing.