Mine was the first name to be called. As I walked onto the floor of the sports pavilion at our local university and stood before 3,000 spectators, I thought, “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Then I bowed to the judges and began the first move of the 24-Step Form of Tai Chi. This was a miracle of my SA recovery.

The road to that moment was a long one. Before starting Tai Chi in 2013, I had never participated in any kind of organized or intramural sport of any kind—not basketball, football, or soccer—not anything. I grew up in an alcoholic family, in a divorced home where I was subjected to emotional, physical, spiritual, and sexual abuse. There were no adult male figures around to teach me how to play sports. I was shy and extremely uncoordinated, and I was quite small for my age—both physically and sexually. I had absolutely no friends. The only exception was a 15-year-old neighbor boy who befriended me the summer I turned 14. Within a few weeks he was molesting me, but I didn’t mind. I thought it was a small price to pay, because he was the first and only friend I ever had. Thus my sex addiction was born.

That fall, my family moved from Kansas to California. High school gym classes and the locker room became nightmares of shame and humiliation for me; not only because I was clumsy at sports but also because of the small size of my genitals. When the boys in the locker room looked at me, I became the object of constant name-calling and degradation. The trauma of this humiliation has caused me deep shame throughout my life. I believe it is at the heart of my addiction.

After high school, I moved back to Kansas to attend college. I was pledged by a fraternity there—not because I was popular or had good grades or because I was athletic, but only because my father, my uncle, and my cousin had been members—so the fraternity had to take me. It was there that I discovered alcohol, and alcohol became my savior. Drinking gave me the courage to date and to dance, and I was somehow able to fake it and fit in. At all costs I had to look good—but when I couldn’t look good, at least I did not want to look bad. Over the next four years of college, I became an alcoholic and a sexaholic. I was drunk every weekend and masturbating constantly.

The college locker room and the fraternity shower room continued to be places of deep embarrassment, because of mocking from my peers. I was 22 when I had intercourse for the first time with a prostitute. This was a deeply degrading and shaming event. What I believed deep in my soul was that I was not a man. I knew what real men looked like, and I wasn’t one of them.

After college I joined the military, and for 25 years I drank and sexed my way through seven countries. The military offered numerous intramural sporting activities, but I never participated in any of these. I only watched or umpired or refereed. At times, others tried to talk me into participating, or even tried to shame me into it—but I resisted.

When I was 28, I married the woman I’m married to today. And after 46 years (and only because of AA and SA)—I love her more than the day we were married. We have a beautiful daughter, and my wife considers me a great husband and father. That certainly was not true of me in my addictions, but that’s how she sees me today.

When I was 45, at the end of my military career, I began having suicidal thoughts because of my drinking. It took me two more years to get serious, but in 1985 I joined AA, and I have been sober from alcohol ever since. After I quit drinking, however, my sexaholism—which had been in the background—leapt to the forefront, and eventually I ended up in porn shops. At first I would just watch porn and masturbate, but before long I was acting out with men. My sex addiction continued for the next 22 years.

I came to SA in January 2000 because I found myself wanting to drink again. But for a very long time, I was only playing with the SA program. Thus, even though I did stay sober from alcohol, I could not stay sexually sober.

By January 2007 I had become deeply depressed. After all this time, I still could not stay sexually sober, my thoughts again turned to drinking, and once again I was having suicidal thoughts. But this time those thoughts scared me, so I finally surrendered to the SA program and to God, and I’ve been sober ever since.

In 2013, at age 73, I connected with a former sponsor and reworked the Steps. I also started seeing a counselor to work on old issues, including my early molestation and my shame related to the size of my genitals. As part of my spiritual growth, I also attended a retreat in May 2013 in Colorado—and there I re-injured an old back and hip problem. Thus I found myself in a wheel chair at the Denver airport, and then at the San Diego airport.

Back home, I was referred to a physical therapist, who suggested that I consider signing up for Tai Chi to improve my balance, flexibility, and leg strength. My mouth said “Yes” but my mind said, “You must be kidding! There is absolutely no way I will do that! Tai Chi requires athletic skills.”

Then God began to intervene. I heard that still small voice saying, “You can do it. I’ll be with you. It will be okay.” It took me five weeks to get up the courage to begin the search for the right Tai Chi school, but in August 2013, I joined a local school. The school symbol—a White Tiger—stands for confidence, worthiness, and poise. Before, I could never have applied those words to myself; yet now I participate in three group classes and one individual class each week, and I practice on three other days.

After the first month, I shared several things with my instructor: my absolute fear of sports-like activities, my fear of not being coordinated enough to do Tai Chi, the fact that I’m rated 50% disabled by the VA, and my overriding need to look good (or at least to not look bad). My instructor is one of the most gentle, guiding yet persuasive men I have ever known. He has gently pushed me and encouraged me to advance in my qualifications, and I’ve been moved to tears at the results. It has been the God of my understanding—Who I found in the rooms of SA and AA—Who gave me and continues to give the courage to change.

The result was that after nine months, my instructor gently recommended that I enter the local Tiger Cup Martial Arts Tournament. I resisted. He suggested, and again I resisted. The third time he said, “This is not a suggestion, I want you to sign up. You won’t believe the self-confidence and self-esteem you will gain from participating in this event.” He sounded just like my SA sponsor, so I signed up!

So there I was on the floor of our local sports pavilion, performing Tai Chi in front of more than 1,200 students and 2,000 plus persons in the audience. My instructor had said, “Trust that you know the moves, you have practiced them hundreds of times, and you are ready. Tune out the noise and listen to your inner self. Become one with your spirit.” And I did just that.

When it was over, I was awarded fourth place out of the 13 total competitors in my level of experience. As I walked off the floor, I did an arm pump and said to myself, “Son of a gun, you did it!” And then, “God, we did it!!!” The gratitude for my recovery was overwhelming and tears were flowing down my cheeks.

Because of SA I had the courage to change, and all I had to do was to change my attitude and my beliefs about myself. This has been a true spiritual awakening, as the result of working my SA program. Today I know that I am a loving son of a loving God and a wonderfully made man, just as I am—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I am White Tiger.