My name is Jon, and I’m a grateful, recovering sexaholic. I’ve been powerless over lust for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, it took decades for me to finally acknowledge this fact. I am originally from the United States, but my wife and I currently reside in the Philippines.
I entered the world of SA through an invitation from a friend of a friend. At the time, I didn’t recognize my own lust addiction. I simply enjoyed the company of women, and I sometimes (read: constantly) indulged in pornography. To me, those explicit images were no different from any movie broadcasted on TV. And when I heard about Sexaholics Anonymous, the word "Anonymous" intrigued me. It seemed to hold excitement, secrecy, and freedom—words my lust craved.
Lust is ugliness disguised as grace. Lust is disgust staring into my face. Lust possesses my entire living space. Lust takes all my hopes to erase. Lust removes the beauty from life. Lust fills the room with unbearable strife.
I love SA. I am really committed to my SA program and this fellowship. I have peace and serenity in my life because through SA I have found a way to live a sober life. I am grateful to my Higher Power, my sponsor, and our 12-Step program for this great gift. Upon receiving a great gift, it is very natural to want to give back. When I was asked if I would consider being nominated to serve as a Trustee, I said, “Yes.”
I am greatly honored to have been asked to write the foreword to this issue of the ESSAY on lust.
The author of this article describes in detail how lust took over her entire life from childhood onwards. Lust influenced the way she dressed; affected how she behaved at school and university; destroyed her marriage; and even drove her to a suicide attempt.
Dear ESSAY, in my addiction I crossed every line I could imagine. Ultimately, I even sexually abused my own daughter. I was quickly arrested because she bravely told her school counselor the very next morning. I was convicted and served a sentence.
Dear Porn, I gotta say that this is the weirdest thing for me to be doing right now, but I wanna thank you for lotsa stuff. Y’know, we haven’t been in contact now for like 126 days (but who’s counting), and I’m not gonna lie—I DO miss you. A whole lot. See? I even count the days! That’s how important you are were in my life!! And although I don’t want you in my life anymore, there was a time that you were crucial to my survival. We’ve been through a lot together and, although it’s time to say goodbye, I really must say thank you first.
I was born in Nicaragua. My parents divorced when I was a baby. I was raised by my maternal grandparents in the countryside until about 8 years old. When I was around 6 or 7 years old, I was sexually abused by two adult men who were neighbors.
For me, sexual lust started as a simple game that I played with the kid next door. I never imagined that such a game could develop into a "way of life." My family paid more attention to my beautiful, smart sister, and to attract their attention, I started stealing from them to get more attention. This didn’t work. I didn’t know how to say, “I’m here! See me! Love me! I need my father to hold me!”
