In the personal story near the front of the White Book, the writer says, “Masturbation again” (SA 14). So here I am, with two years of SA sobriety, doing my Step One again, at my sponsor’s suggestion. The process was similar to the first time I did Step One, but this time it was more fruitful because I was not acting alone. Today I have the support of my sponsor and my friends in SA to help me on my journey.

This wasn’t a typical Step One in which I painstakingly recount the mistakes that led me into and fed my sexual addiction. Rather, this was more of a reflection on the fact that, despite my progress through the Twelve Steps, I am still on Step One. I’m still powerless over lust, and as a result, my life can still be unmanageable.

Pornography came into my life before I knew what it was, from people I trusted. Even though I didn’t want pornography at first, I knew that my older friends did want it—and I figured they were more mature then I was, so I joined in. Masturbation followed—quickly, accidentally, and seemingly innocently. But masturbation was never the draw for me. The draw was always—and continues to be—the fantasy. It’s the escape from real life and into a life of adventure and excitement. The fantasy of being accepted by a beautiful woman—that was worth masturbating to!

After a while, I began to see that this behavior wasn’t getting me anywhere, and it was cutting me off from real people. I felt dirty. I felt different. I felt broken. I felt that my religion was only a mask to hide the perversion that was going on underneath.

God certainly did not approve, but I had to keep up appearances. This was difficult, so I adopted a series of defects as a sort of false bravado. Among them were negative thinking and judging others. Plus, I hated myself so much that I thought there was no possible way anyone else could accept me, especially if they really knew me. If I received any praise or recognition, I could later prove that I was a scoundrel. If they only knew.

And so, like any reasonable person, I noticed a problem and I tried to correct it—alone. My pattern was cyclical: failure, fantasy, masturbation, shame, self-hatred, repeat. I could not stop lusting, and lusting perpetuated the cycle. I was my own worst enemy. This ultimately brought me to SA in June 2012—and I’ve been sober since June 1, 2013—and yet here I am doing Step One again.

Today I recognize that I’m powerless over much of my life, not just lust. At times I still fear that I’m broken beyond repair, incapable of life as I would have wanted it. But today, because of SA, I also know there is hope.

I’m still powerless over my relationships with women. I try to control outcomes, and when this fails, I feel a sense of loss that I cannot seem to overcome. I seem to be stuck in a loop: I keep putting women on pedestals, only to remove them when I detect the slightest flaw. I seem unable to let women be human. Through SA, God has worked many miracles in my life, but this is still a problem for me.

I’m powerless over my past. I have fear and anger about how I lived my life previously, and I worry what other people think about my stewardship of what I’ve been given. I cannot change the past, but I worry that I haven’t done enough to take care of myself or a potential future wife. I worry that I have laid a bad foundation for the rest of my life.

I’m powerless over others’ reactions to me. I tend to take too much responsibility for people’s reactions to me. I often assume I’ve hurt or annoyed others when they have reactions that I don’t expect. At times, I’m not as kind or understanding as I would like to be. Today I know that I do not have power over what others think about me. I’ve learned that my life becomes unmanageable when I try to guess at others’ thoughts.

I’ve learned that I cannot control every situation that arises in my life, because I’m not the sole participant. I must surrender my attempts to manipulate, though I don’t always know when to surrender. Manipulation came so naturally to me that it has become my default language.

At times lust still cries out, “It’ll be different this time! You’re doing all right; you can maintain control.” Lust wants to tell me that I’m better than the weakling I used to be. Lust is right about one thing: it will be different this time, because I don’t want this ride anymore! The ride has exacted a cost that I cannot pay, but I need not take it anymore. This time, because of SA, things will be different, because lust’s voice has been drowned out by the song of God’s love for me and the love of my fellows in SA.

I’ve learned that I will always be powerless over the insanity/lust ride, if I choose to get on it. But today, because of SA, I don’t have to face my powerlessness alone, and I no longer need to face lust alone. The friends I’ve made in SA supply me with the real connection. Through SA, I can be victorious. Through the program, my sponsor and my meetings, I know that I can be “… brought into a way of living infinitely more satisfying and, I hope, more useful than the life I lived before” (AA 43).

Today I am home, happy, and sober—and grateful for SA.