A member wrote about how he is triggered so often by other people. When we discussed what he really meant by the word triggered, he answered, “I was attacked by lust.” He’s suffering and feeling that our program is not working for him.
I had a sponsee who would call me every day with a check in. I laid out a daily program of action like the one that was given to me. Every few days he would call to report he had lost his sobriety. I would say the same thing every time. Did you slide out of bed to your knees for morning prayers? Did you do your daily readings? Did you call 2 other SA members? And so forth. His answers were always the same, a half-measures “no” on most of the suggestions.
Sexaholics Anonymous reaffirms itself as a fellowship of men and women in an SA Meeting Participation Statement that emphasizes that a “…spirit of inclusivity is fundamental to the identity of an SA group.” For valid reasons, women are a minority in SA meetings. Many meetings have no women at all. This makes it very difficult for a female newcomer to feel welcome in SA, even though she needs the SA program every bit as much as her male counterpart.
My name is C. and I’m a gratefully recovering sexaholic from Ireland. Some years ago I heard an old-timer say at a convention that, before he was married, he knew a lot about lust but did not know much about sex. I identified with this because it is also true for me. Through SA I’ve learned that lust and sex are two entirely different things.
By the grace of God and the fellowship of SA, I have been sexually sober since August 1, 1985)—something for which I am frequently but never sufficiently grateful.
When I came into SA in 2009, I balked at the part of the sobriety definition that says “no form of sex with self or with persons other than the spouse” (SA 191-192). I had come from a secular upbringing, and I lived through three divorces of my parents. First they divorced each other, then each of them married someone else, and then each divorced again. Marriage was not for me.
The best thing that ever happened to me was the day that my ex-wife threw me out of the house, near the end of 2006. I had been through rehab and in and out of SA, and yet here I was again, caught looking at porn online. My wife had had it. Thank God she was willing to give up on me.
Two years ago, I was halfway through graduate school and living in Nashville. I thought I was doing pretty well for myself—until I sat down with my girlfriend in a student counseling session and explained my acting-out behaviors.
My story is similar to many I’ve heard—riddled with pornography, masturbation, and a multitude of sexual encounters. For most of my life, I didn’t even think that the things I was doing were wrong. Only when I wanted to stop and could not did I start the downward spiral into despair that brought me through the doors of SA.
Seven years ago, when I was 29, I came into SA after crossing one of my boundaries: I had an affair with a married coworker. It wasn’t the affair that made me realize I had a problem, however, but the fact that my affair partner wanted to become emotionally attached and I wasn’t interested.
