I just finished a two-hour working session with a sponsee at a coffee shop. We were upstairs, mainly deserted, only one couple at the far end, who looked like they were down on their luck. I used the restroom and headed out when I noticed the gentleman that was upstairs coming down the stairs. I realized I had left my brand new cell phone on the sofa that he had just passed. I went and checked and it was gone.
Okay everyone. Wow! I’m Harvey A., sexaholic from Nashville, TN. I’ve been sexually sober thirty-three years and ten months. But there is someone in this room who has more sobriety and who is a pioneer of pioneers. To be a woman, and the oldest in sobriety basically, and to break these frontiers, Sylvia, would you stand? [Applause]
Are you willing to do what it takes?
I find the first two words of the Serenity Prayer crucial for me to focus on and never forget: “God grant.” It is another example of how God does for me what I cannot do for myself. I am powerless; He has all power. It’s also one of the early steps in learning some much needed humility, recognizing that this isn’t all about me, nor is my progress of my own doing.
When I was acting out, I could hide behind the wall of Internet anonymity. That anonymity gave me license to go where ever my addiction wanted. That anonymity allowed me to act out without being exposed, attracting real partners, or engaging prostitutes with the illusions that this method was somehow okay.
I came in fearful and trembling as a newcomer to SA. My first meeting didn’t really happen. I arrived fifteen minutes early and the door was still locked. So I sat in my car to wait and watched as one, two, three, four, five men arrived, one at a time. No women. I was too frightened to go in.
In our suggested meeting format, just before the end we read: “Our public relations policy is based on attraction, not promotion. We need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, TV, and film.” Sometimes I add: “Please talk to me before you choose to break your anonymity. I made a real mess doing that.”
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 concept of anonymity as applied to Twelve Step Programs appears in Traditions Eleven and Twelve, which give guidelines for members of the fellowship.
My recovery requires me to form new habits. It takes time to develop a new habit. The accountability of a daily check-in was absolutely necessary for me to get the momentum required to make something routine. But, even this was not enough to motivate me to be consistent. I shared my struggle with another member and we had a new idea.
