The first recollections of my addiction are from the summer of 1961. I would be nine in August and I had just moved to a new subdivision. The only other boy in the neighborhood was four years older than I, and he was pretty lonely, since his parents both worked. We began to spend time with one another, and since he had a house all to himself, most of our time together was spent there.
Sobriety came in the summer of 1985 like an unexpected gift. Just about three weeks earlier I had learned that there were people who called themselves sex addicts and held meetings and worked the Twelve Steps. I had begun making a weekly 200-mile round trip to the closest meeting. I had read the SA manual twice, but — brain numbed by decades of sexual obsession — I didn’t understand most of the basic principles there.
When I was a little girl about five years old, I remember sitting on my grandfather’s lap and combing his hair. It gave me such happy, good feelings. My grandfather died when I was seven. I had trouble in school from that time on. I couldn’t concentrate, I would daydream, and I had headaches. I was a very lonely child after I lost that special relationship. I didn’t know how to get that love from anyone else, so I comforted myself in my fantasies where I was a fairy princess and my Prince Charming would come and carry me off.
I had to face the fact that in my marriage I didn’t know what intimacy without sex looked like. I was always seeking to create intimacy so I could get my wife to have sex with me. Just like I did with the girlfriends that preceded her. Our sexual encounters usually came out of the “connect with me and make me whole” syndrome. They created a false intimacy that soon evaporated, often leaving exposed the underlying emotions that made us feel like we had to be sexual with one another in the first place. And I was usually left with a craving for more….
I woke up this morning thanking God. Then I prayed this simple prayer: “God grant that I may love Thee always and follow Thy will. Do with me according to Thy will.” Then I did my daily readings. It wasn’t always that way. Today I’m enjoying over three years of sexual sobriety. But again, it wasn’t always that way….
Thank you very much. It is beautiful to be with you. I have looked for this opportunity for some time and now it is here.
I was born into a large extended family in eastern Canada. My father held down two jobs and operated a mixed farm with his father. My mother was young and overwhelmed with responsibility. When my father was home I would try to talk to him and do things with him but I had little or no success. I realize today he was trying to recapture some much needed sleep.
My name is Michael and I’m a sexaholic. It feels weird to say that in front of several hundred people. It’s not something we can be very proud about in front of the normal public, but it’s something I can say here with confidence that it won’t go beyond the doors. Back in 1940 or so it would be awfully strange to say to a crowd this size that you were an “alcoholic.” This is a very strange disease, and it has a lot of shame to it. What’s wonderful is to be able to be in a crowd this size and know that when I talk about how awkward I used to feel and how wonderful I feel now, there’s a bunch of people out there who know what I’m talking about.
Every time we say—and it sounds contradictory, doesn’t it?—we are trudging the Road of Happy Destiny, trudging sounds like a burdensome sort of thing, and Happy Destiny a bit odd, too. And every time we say that, which is at every meeting, there’s a sort of a snicker, or you feel a heaviness, or there’s a bit of a smile as you say “trudging the Road of Happy Destiny.”
Let me begin with a clear and obvious announcement to you. I am sick. I am very sick. And I was terribly sick. Because of this illness I am with you in the great and wonderful, life-giving fellowship of SA. I’m delighted to be able to do this.
