Working Step Three
I’ve always had a large ego, which never allowed me to acknowledge that I needed God. I looked down on people of faith, thinking they were foolish or weak, and that they used the notion of God as a crutch.
I’ve always had a large ego, which never allowed me to acknowledge that I needed God. I looked down on people of faith, thinking they were foolish or weak, and that they used the notion of God as a crutch.
I’m battling a disease that is much greater than I am, and which needs no rest. My disease is focused on driving a wedge between me and everything I hold dear. It is intent on killing me. It knows that by isolating me it can make me believe its lies—but as long as I have others to talk with, I can keep my addiction at bay.
My initials are L. A. I’m powerless over lust without God’s help.
My husband and I were talking about intimacy recently. We agreed that intimacy must be based in truth, and that I need to be totally honest (without gory details) about the big stuff.
When I first came to SA, I was one of those people who wanted to control and enjoy my lust, but not stop lusting altogether. I wanted to work my own program. I thought I was smarter than the other members and smarter than my therapist.
I started sex-addiction recovery in 1994 in another sex-addiction fellowship, and spent the next eight years in a state of chronic relapse. Sometimes I couldn’t even get one day of sobriety, although a couple of times I reached six months. But five years ago something changed, and I have been able to stay sober.
I was 18 when I first went to a gay bar. I had to wear a wristband to get in. I stood in the corner on the edge of the dance floor nursing my virgin Rum and Coke. My hair was unkempt. I wasn’t manicured. Every time I tried to connect, all I could say was, “God this music sucks.” I was desperate to make friends, but I couldn’t seem to break through.
In 1998, I believed I had a good life. I was 50 years old and satisfied in my marriage of 25 years, secure in my job, and content to have raised two grown children who were now out of the house. At the time, computers were the latest technology, and the Internet was an intriguing way to spend time talking with people from all over the country.
I’m an 18-year-old virgin sexaholic. I came to SA in March 2006, worried I wouldn’t be accepted because I’ve never had actual sex. But at my first meeting I was assured that I was quite qualified.
I love this quote: “In between black and white thinking is not grey; in between black and white thinking is where the colors are.” I want to share with you the rainbow that recovery has given me.