IN THE CURRENT MAGAZINE

I broke up with my last girlfriend when I came to the program, after a two-year relationship. The reason was my shocking admission to the truth about myself—that I used her, trying to find a sense of self-worth at her expense, satisfy lust, and not feel lonely. This realization was painful, but honest and therefore healing.

Time being single and sober has allowed her to hear Higher Power’s will for her. I have been sober for several years now, and have taken my first steps toward recovery. By “recovery,” I don't just mean working the Steps, but that I am literally “recovering.” I'm talking about healing and restoration.

He discovered that being single allowed him to devote his whole life to God. I was not put in this program by a spouse. I put myself here of my own volition. I don’t have to get found out or exposed because I have the opportunity to expose and find out about myself here in safety and connection with others, united in fellowship all across the world. I may not ever marry. It is possible that I could live a neo-monastic life in spiritual practice and connection with others under God all across the planet, and I’m okay with that. Lotta pain still, but pain when fully processed becomes wisdom.

God’s love and will in her life are all she needs, and anything else is extra. I grew up with an urge to be a grandmother; I just loved the idea of having a family and children. I would name my daughter after the girl who sits on the last bench in my class. I was in first grade, and I looked at my crush and thought, "If we had a daughter, I would name her after my classmate who's at the top of our class." Cute, right? I chuckle because I was only five when I did this.

By repairing the past, through working the program, he found the freedom of being single. Throughout my lust addiction, romantic relationships became a golden calf to me. I thought an attractive, emotionally compatible girlfriend would fulfill and complete me. Having a girlfriend became a persistent fantasy, but every time a woman would say yes to my proposition for a date, I would run from the relationship as soon as it took off.

She came to accept Higher Power’s plan for her. I had to learn to love myself, not in the way a conceited person does, but as a precious child of God. I had to learn to enjoy my own company and to remember I am a precious child of God. Not a perfect one, but a work in progress with my Higher Power molding me to His will. I am not in charge of my life; my Higher Power is in charge. I have to accept that Higher Power knows what is best for me. I accept that Higher Power's plan for me is to be single. Being single is not a failure. I am grateful for the lessons my Higher Power has taught me about loving and liking myself as a precious child of God.

Surrendering Lust helped him to surrender the shame that came with it. Yesterday, I started the day in the usual way with prayers and readings—I thank God for that. I then went to do some errands. About mid-morning, there was a lust hit. I knew the danger, and I acted swiftly. I averted my eyes, got out of the situation, surrendered the look, and prayed. I acknowledged my powerlessness. The lust look is a weakness—it always has been.

This tool helps him to release the past. There are moments in life when the past will not let go. I’ve started the path of recovery, made amends where I could, committed to change, and yet — the memories remain. The images return. The shame lingers. While I’ve begun to move forward on the outside, my mind is still caught in the painful echoes of what I've done. This is where the Prayer of Divine Remembrance comes in.

Recovery radically changed how he celebrates Father’s Day. I used to think Father’s Day was about waiting for my children to shower me with drawings, or words that would make me feel like a good father. I thought it was a day to sit back and receive—to be told that all my sacrifices were noticed, my sleepless nights appreciated, my worrying understood.

This period of being single has given him time to work a rigorous program. For most of my life, I’ve been looking for someone to connect with me and make me whole. I felt “inadequate, unworthy, alone, and afraid” (SA 203), always comparing my insides to the outsides of others. I was terrified of people seeing me for fear that they’d reject me—which was why I never learned to date. It felt too risky.