Volleyball Shoes on the 21st Day: Get Your Feet Right

My bishop, two bishops ago, told me an analogy that made so much sense to me. I don't remember if he gave this story in a talk, or if he told me directly, but it doesn't matter- the message was meant for me (probably not only me, of course).

He talked about how he used to be a volleyball coach, and he said sometimes the girls would send the ball flying erratically over the net. They thought their aim had been good, but the ball didn't go where they wanted it to go because their feet weren't right. He said that when they finally learned to get their feet pointed in the right direction, with practice, the ball would begin to fall where they intended it to fall. So he would work with their feet more than with their aim and swing.

I'm very uninterested in sports. They bore me. But, they seem to be easy to relate to life in many ways!

The bishop likened that story to life. He said sometimes we aim and get it all wrong. We try and fail. But if our feet our pointed in the right direction (i.e. to God), then we'll eventually do other things right as well and that ball will stop landing out of bounds. When our feet are right, our swing will eventually improve, and everything else will fall into place.

He must have been talking to me directly about this, because now I remember him saying that as long as I kept doing what I was doing- reading scriptures, praying, attending my meetings, having FHE- then eventually everything else would fall into place. Eventually, I would aim and the ball wouldn't land in a pit of sin. I took that to heart and never forgot it.

For me, recovery has taken a very long time, but my bishop was right. Through continued scripture reading, prayer, and meeting attendance, I finally learned about the Addiction Recovery Program. My ball was still flying erratically about, landing in muddy areas, never doing what I wanted it to do, but I kept doing those things I knew were right. Slowly, so slowly, I gained access to new tools, new friends who would support me, new courage, new strength. I kept my feet right, and slowly, the ball would land in safer areas.

Obviously, since I'm only 3 weeks out of my last slip, I haven't quite gotten the hang of my swing. But, my feet are straight, and my swing is so much better. I haven't given up. I'm learning and growing and hoping and repenting, my feet ever pointing to the Savior, and I know that my swing will follow. I know that it is following.

I remember a time not so long ago when 3 weeks of abstinence was impossible. Recovery is a miracle! But it's possible for anyone of us, because Jesus is the Savior to everyone of us.

So, if progress is the name of the game (and it is), then I'm winning. Even so, I'm pretty bad at volleyball.

Step 7 Miracle

I completed Step 7 about 2.5 weeks ago. It was wonderful! I was going to go into detail of what I did and how I did it, but then I decided I don't want to make any Program newcomer to feel like she (or he) has to do it any certain way, as recovery is an extremely personal process, and just as the details of our addictions are different for everyone, so must be the details of our recovery.

However, I will say that as I was going through Step 7, I figured it was impossible to hand over all my weaknesses to God. I figured I could never actually do this step. It felt like to me that the step was asking me to become perfect, all in one step. Without weaknesses, I am perfect, right? And it was asking me to ask God to remove my character weaknesses. All of them. And so I knew I had to actually give them up.

In Step 6, I had written down a few of my key weaknesses. In Step 6, I had truly become ready to give them up. But when I got to Step 7, and it came time to follow through, I changed my mind. I'm not ready! I can't do this! And I ran and retreated and hid and slipped. And I felt exposed and weak- so weak.

Finally, I convinced myself to trudge through. I convinced myself to believe that if I did the work, God would help me. And so I read. I wrote. I prayed. I thought. Still, a block was in place. I couldn't see myself ever truly giving up all my character weaknesses, let alone in one fell swoop! It seemed too much. But, I moved forward.

Just when I thought it would never really come to me; that I would never get Step 7, suddenly, I did. Suddenly, I remembered that God can help me. Suddenly I remembered that my Heavenly Father wants to help me. Suddenly I knew that if I took all of my weaknesses, bundled them up, and placed them on an alter, and asked God to take them, then He just might. And if He didn't, then He would help me and go with me as I did what I could to remove them myself.

So I fell to my knees and I told Heavenly Father the list of weaknesses I had written down in Step 6, and I told Him that I had these weaknesses before me, and I wanted to give them up. And I asked Him to please, please take them!

Since that day 2.5 weeks ago, I have not given into the pull of some of those weaknesses. He has truly helped me and strengthened me. Sometimes, when I have been tempted to return to an old behavior, I tell myself, "no, I gave that to God." and it goes away.

It's remarkable!

Some of the weaknesses, though, remain with me daily. I know that with practice, they will also become memories. And that is very exciting!

And, the miracle continues. As I carefully travel each day's paths, I sometimes come to realize other weaknesses. And I practice what I did in Step 7, I get it ready to give to God, and I ask Him to take it from me.

It makes me think that maybe I can do this, after all.

Now I have Step 8 looming in front of me. Sigh. "Make a written list of all persons you have harmed and become willing to make restitution to them." Step 8 is going to be difficult for me because as far as I know, besides my kids, I haven't harmed anyone directly as a result of my addiction. I know that sounds prideful, and it probably is. This addiction is very quiet. It's not like alcohol or drugs in that I can hide it. After using, I don't lose a great deal of judgement and go on angry rampages. I can drive safely after using. I'm not married so I'm not hurting a spouse. I'm not trying to make excuses, here. I know that Heavenly Father will help me with this step, as He has with each previous step, and that I will figure out an honest and thorough way to complete this step.

In other news, I'm determined to return to the temple. I don't know how long it will be, but it doesn't matter- I'll do whatever it takes. I'm going back. I miss it terribly.

Also, I have started counseling again! My therapist is incredible, and the best match I've had yet. I'm learning a lot. I figured with my last slips that I wasn't as healed as I thought I was. I thought I needed some guidance into my own self, and I think that's exactly what I'm getting. I'm so grateful for a means to pay for the sessions.

I'm excited to continue forward. I'm grateful for the return of that enthusiasm. I know that I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

NOT Grateful for my Addiction; Call it What it Is

source

I once said I was grateful for my addiction. Well, I'm not.

I hate this addiction. I hate how it destroyed me. I hate how it separates me from God and from my children. I hate how it controls me. I hate how it covers me with filth. I hate this addiction. I am not grateful that I am addicted, for crying out loud.

I used to think that this addiction was the only way I could grow close to God. That's a lie. Other ways I could grow close to God include reading the scriptures, praying, attending my meetings, attending the temple. Did I really believe that I could learn more about Jesus Christ in sin than I could in regular temple attendance? My addiction keeps me out of the temple, and halts my learning and my progress.

I am not grateful for my addiction.

I actually felt special for having this addiction, like God gave it to me as a gift, so I could learn humility. This addiction is not a gift of God, and I am not special for having it. Humility should be learned in other ways, such as reading the scriptures, repenting, praying, attending my meetings, and attending the temple. I was given weakness, yes, as we all were, so I could be humble, but I absolutely was not given this addiction! Addiction is, in most cases, and in my case, a result of choice. I chose addiction by choosing the sins that led to it. God did not choose this for me.

Ether 12:27 is very important. It says "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble." See how it says weakness, and not weaknesses? He simply makes us fallible. He doe not give us specific weaknesses. He does not assign anger to one and sex to another. He gives us weakness. We have our personalities and our environments that mold that general weakness into specific weaknesses. The verse goes on to explain that if we humble ourselves and have faith, he will make our weak things become strong. He gives us general weakness; the inability to be perfect, and then when we show faith and humility, and take to Him our weak things, He makes them strong. That's pretty awesome.

But, I no longer believe that He gave me this specific weakness. Doesn't that seem wrong? I have my own personality. I have my own upbringing and my own experiences, and those are the things that molded my desires and my weaknesses. If God is fair, and He is, then He would not give me sexual weaknesses and Jane a weakness of being afraid to speak out about the Church. There are degrees of sin, and so a fair God would not give more sinful weaknesses to some while sparing others. No. I have always had the choice. I am not grateful for my choices that led to and kept me in addiction.

My addiction taught me nothing. My addiction told me that I am worthless, ugly, stupid, horrible, beyond salvation. My addiction told me that I shouldn't try. My addiction convinced me that I was a freak of nature, and that I could never be healed. My addiction is darkness, evil.

I am not grateful for that which destroyed me and my family. I will not lend thanks to that which ensnares me and keeps me from God. However, I am grateful for repentance. My addiction did not humble me; repentance did. I am grateful for hope. My addiction has never given me hope. I am grateful for the Atonement. My addiction didn't teach me about the Atonement; repentance did. The addiction has done nothing good for me, and so I have no thanks regarding it. Repentance has saved me, will save me, is saving me, and so I am deeply grateful for it.

Would I have learned of repentance through another means had I not become an addict? I certainly hope so. I believe so. I am not so blind, so hard, that addiction is the only way I could come to Christ. No, addiction was the long way. And it wasn't addiction that was a way at all, but recovery from it. I am not grateful for my addiction, but for recovery.

In my afore-referenced blog post, I actually wrote this: "In a sad, strange, maybe sick way, I need this addiction to bring me Home to my God."

That is a complete lie. That is an excuse, that's what that is, an excuse and a false way to accept that I'm addicted. "Oh, I'm an addict because I have to be so I can return to God. So it's okay. I was born this way, so my choices that led to addiction are okay and part of my path to return to God." Nonononono, this took me away from God!

This is a fact: My life would be better had I never been addicted. This is also a fact: I would be closer to God if I'd followed the commandments all along. This addiction does not bring me to Him.

When I turn to God, I turn away from my addiction. So, how could it be my addiction that saves me?

I don't hold it against myself that I was so confused about what to be grateful for. I was grateful, indeed, but my gratitude was displaced. Instead of putting it to God, I was putting it to my addiction. Was it the only thing that could adequately humble me? Absolutely not; I am not that special, that unique. Those things which humble us all would have humbled me as well.

Now, I have to take the long road. That's okay. It is what it is. I will do whatever I must do. But, if I hadn't given to choices time after time after time that created and perpetuated this addiction, I would be in a better place. Wickedness never was happiness. We are not blessed for our sinful choices, but for our obedience.

I regard my addiction with no degree of fondness, nor of gratitude. I know that I can and will learn from it, but only when I turn from it. I am certainly grateful for the lessons I've learned through addiction recovery, and I know that I could have learned these same lessons another way, like by following the commandments. We are given line upon line, precept upon precept, and I cringe when I think of how spiritually far I could be if I'd only trusted God from the beginning. I have lost so much ground because of this addiction; missed so many opportunities.

I know this addiction is not a gift. It has not brought me to God. It has not taught me truths. It has not humbled me. I know that Jesus Christ has brought me to God, taught me truths, and humbled me. It is through repentance, not addiction, that I learn beautiful things. In the future, I hope I repent of smaller sins and learn those same principles. I'm so grateful to know that by taking my weak things to God, He can make them strengths. That is what I'm doing with this addiction. It will be a strength to me! I'm so thankful for a loving Savior who made repentance and forgiveness possible!

Why Should my Strength Slacken Because of Mine Afflictions?

Things are hard right now.

My afflictions are not a few. I do not wish to presume that my life is more challenging than anyone else's, nor do I wish to imply that my charmed life is not filled with countless undeserved blessings. I still have everything I need.

But, things are hard. Circumstances are hard. I won't go into detail because the details don't matter in this case. Here's what matters: I slackened my strength because of my afflictions.

Somehow, my hardships gave me an excuse to return to not-so-old behaviors which I thought I'd abandoned. Somehow, I gave in to the weight of regular real-life, and I forgot what I'd learned. Somehow, my afflictions gave me almost-realistic justification.

The real-life consequence of my giving-in to real-life life is that I had to surrender my temple recommend. Even as I write that, the tears begin again. There is shame, there is. But, mostly, there is deep regret and genuine sorrow for my sins. I am disappointed in myself, but I refuse to berate myself. Somehow, by telling myself the truths, I take more ownership and responsibility for what I've done.

As a side note- I fought with myself about including that truth in this blog, that I lost my recommend. I worked so hard for that! I didn't want to admit that I gave it up again. I didn't want others to see me as a failure. I was afraid that if others knew about this, that they would think of me as having failed. I considered waiting a few months before I confessed that, because, somehow, after some time, it wouldn't feel as heavy. BUT. It is a part of my story, and it is a part of my story NOW. Also, I have not failed. As my bishop kindly and sweetly reminded me, this is not defeat. I can and will get my recommend back. I am inexplicably disappointed that I have regarded my covenants so lightly. I take responsibility and I will do everything I can to repent and return. I decided to admit it because it is my now, my story. I regret it deeply, friends. And I am repenting. How wonderful that I have the opportunity to repent! Even still, even again! How wonderful that I am not lost!

Okay, back on track--
If I give into the lies, they really become ugly excuses. "You're so stupid," makes it almost okay because then, the reason I did it was because I'm stupid. An excuse. "You're lazy." An excuse. "You're weak." Another excuse. All those lies that I buy into which Satan fills my head with following a slip have served as excuses! Additionally, they tear me down and make me want to sin more and more. If I believe I have no worth, then why should I do good? Satan is tricky, do you see? When he says "You're worthless/ugly/stupid/weak/lazy/fat/slutty/awful/evil," he is using a tactic. He is trying to pull us down so we'll stay down longer. He gives us an excuse for our past misdeeds, and plants seeds for future transgressions by telling these lies of lack of worth. Also, if I have an excuse, even a self-blaming one, I subconsciously tell myself I get to take on less responsibility, which halts true repentance. Misery breeds misery, and Satan knows that better than anyone else!

After my last slip, I, as usual, was so worried that I wouldn't feel bad enough if I didn't help Satan with his verbal abuse. I was terrified to repent the wrong way. What if I chose to believe I still had great worth and didn't feel genuine remorse for what I'd done? What if I didn't feel bad at all for something I believed I should feel miserable about? Did I actually have any degree of genuine remorse? What if I wasn't sorry? Certainly it was better to hate myself than to not feel sorrow, right?

A voice inside me told me to trust. Trust the process of repentance. Trust God. Trust myself. A voice inside me assured me that if I took out the self-brow-beating, then the way I felt would be exactly the way I was supposed to feel. A voice inside me convinced me that loathing and pummeling myself was wrong. So, I decided to try, and trust. I rejected all the lies. Every time that familiar "you're horrible" and its family members entered my consciousness, I flicked it away.

And then, something magical happened. When I prayed to my Father and told Him about the things I'd done, I was sorry. And I was sorry without pity! It wasn't hateful. It wasn't selfishly miserable. It was painful; so very, very painful. But it was real, and I knew it, and it was beautiful. It was empowering rather than degrading. It was encouraging rather than discouraging. It was hopeful and not hopeless. And it continues to be real.

I'm not so focused on the how I should feel, or the how I'm supposed to feel anymore. I just let it be. I know that as I make righteous choices, and as I keep my Father in Heaven in the loop, that even if I don't feel remorseful right away, I will. No more brow-beating. It's counter-productive and not of God. It's not repentance by any means, and how could it be? It's so selfish. It's me-centered. True repentance is God-centered.

When I talked to my bishop about my recent slips (I think I had enough to call this a short relapse), he encouraged me to read 2 Nephi chapter 4. I love that chapter! But as I read, I learned. I have read that chapter probably dozens of times, and never saw what I saw that night, that I had slackened my strength because of my afflictions. I gave into the "it's too hard," and the "I cannot do this." I let the "this is too much for me" and the "what am I going to do?" weigh me down into momentary hopelessness. It was enough to pull me under, because I cut myself some slack. "It's been a hard few days. Go ahead and watch that show even though it's really late." "I've had such a hard thing happen! I deserve to go to bed without reading my scriptures." Little tiny things that I rationalized wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of big things.

Life is hard, but . . . Life is hard! And it always will be. And I don't get to give up just because my burdens get a little heavier.

Awake, my soul! No longer droop in sin. Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the enemy of my soul. Do not slacken my strength because of my afflictions.
2 Ne 4:28, 29

From Jesus, After a Slip

*please read this in conjunction with From Satan, After a Slip, and please read this one 2nd.

Come back to me.
I am here.
You are not beyond my power to redeem.
You are beautiful.
Your worth remains unaltered.
I am sending you hope; won't you take it?

I see your efforts. This is not who you are. This is not your destiny. I see you eternally, and this moment does not define you wholly. In fact, what you do after this moment will define you more than what you did in the moment.

I love you. You are lovable. You are worthy of hope. Seek me; I am here. Pray; God is there, too. Arise, Stephanie, and I will help you stand.

I will heal you. I will comfort you. I will free you!

I have come to redeem your soul from hell. You are mine, if you choose to be. Come to me, and all I have is yours.


[I don't presume to speak for Jesus, but this represents what I feel from Him after a slip.]

From Satan, After a Slip

*please read this in conjunction with From Jesus, After a Slip, and please read this one first.

Well aren't you stupid. You did it again! HA! I can't believe you did it again! Well, of course I can believe it, but it came as a surprise to you, didn't it? You underestimate my power, and when you do, I have more. Keep thinking that I can't beat you. Keep thinking that you are more powerful than I am. I know you will keep thinking that because I will keep telling you that. You always believe me, you fool.

You are mine. I have you now. You were never God's anyway. You have always been mine and you are mine and you will always be mine. I know you hear hope calling after you. It's a lie. Flick it away. You cannot be saved, not after this! If you think you can be saved after what you just did, think again. Think, Stephanie. Do you feel worthy of hope? No? Of course not. Because you aren't.

Stop thinking about God. Where was he in all of this? He could have saved you; could have stopped you. I guess he wanted you to be miserable or else he would have stopped it from happening. Give him no credit. He wasn't even there.

You are ugly. Beautiful people don't behave this way.
You are evil. Good people don't behave this way.
You are hopeless. Hope is for the righteous.
You are trapped. There is no freedom for the likes of you.
You are stupid. Smart people don't behave this way.
You're a whore.
You're a slut.
You may as well be dead.
You may as well die.
It would be better if you were dead because then you wouldn't keep doing this.
You're going to be this way your whole life.
Why try? You'll only fail again. That's what you do- fail.
This is who you are.
You've already done this much, you may as well continue.
You already make worse choices than everyone else, go have some fun. Drink some. Take some drugs. It'll be okay. Not worse than what you've already done anyway.

You're the stupidest person I know. You have all this light and knowledge and sin against it anyway. You have everything you need and how do you show your gratitude? By sinning! HAHA. Nice, Stephanie. You hate Jesus. You hate God. You hate your children. You hate yourself, but you already knew that. This is who you are. This is your destiny. This moment defines you wholly.

You thought that because you were making better choices, you would be free of addiction? You fool! Choices don't eliminate me. I am always here. I am always following. Make no mistake, I will have you forever.

On a Positive Note

I have everything I need. I have a home, daily food, happy and healthy children, my own health. I have a bed to sleep in every night, a working vehicle, talents and general happiness. Each of my senses and limbs and bones and muscles are in good, working order. I am able to think. I am literate. I know God. I have a wonderful family who know about my addiction but still love me. I have friends all around me who support me and lift me, even in recovery. I am so blessed!

I have everything.

Except strength. And hope. If I've done it before I can do it again, right? Is that good logic?

I feel like I don't deserve hope. It tries to come to me and I flick it away. Not right now. I need to be miserable for awhile, first. Hope is clean but I am soiled. Hope is light but I am heavy. Hope is buoyant but I am sinking. Hope is bright but I am dark. How could I be allowed to hope? Why does it keep trying to lift my soul?

Hope is a gift of God. True Hope, hope like this, comes from no one else but Jesus Christ. And so, I suppose that by rejecting it, I am rejecting my Savior.

How can I let in this hope AND feel appropriately remorseful for my sins? I feel so conflicted! I feel like if I dare hope, then I cannot be sufficiently sorrowful. I feel like hope and repentance cannot exist simultaneously!

But, wait, that is absurd. The essence of repentance is hope! Without hope there would be no salvation and without salvation there would be no hope. Repentance is inseparably connected to hope and salvation. Repentance without hope is meaningless . . . impossible.

Oh, how heavy is my heart. How could I have done this thing again? Well . . . I know that one reason is that I have been rejecting hope.

Jesus Christ is the author and the finisher of my faith. I will work today to accept and invite hope into my sin-darkened soul. Today, I will be hopeful for a complete remission of my sins. Today, I will be hopeful for future success. Today, I will be hopeful for forgiveness, strength, and peace. Today I will hope for renewal and energy. Today, I will hope.

There is that saying, "the higher you climb, the harder you fall." Something like that. I was as high as I had ever been! And I fell. I fell hard. I'm having a difficult time getting back up.

But, hope lifts. And I will now allow it to lift me. I will see the good. I will count my blessings. I will let God heal me rather than rejecting His gift of hope.

What a tender and kind God we have.

Born of God: A Musical Vlog

Hi, Friends! I love music a lot. I wanted to share with you my testimony through song. For some reason, uploading the video here proved to be an impossibility, so if you'd like, please view it here. (and while you're there, "like" my page if you wanna.)

I'll Take it From Here

Dear God,

Thanks for getting me out of that pit of addiction I was in. That was a rough time, eh? I definitely needed You to pull me out; I couldn't have done it alone! I'm doing pretty well, though, and while I owe that much to You, I'm good now. So, I'll take it from here, God. You've done enough,

Amen.

If your eyes are bugging out of your head in fear and trembling out of concern for the well-being of my soul, good! I have been reviewing the path I was on when I had my latest slips, and it all boils down to pride. Subconsciously, I had the above prayer going on. I'll take it from here. I began to let little dents in my armor go un-repaired. I began to slacken my fortifications little by little, telling myself I was strong enough now. Or, rather, accepting and believing Satan's lies that I was strong enough now.

Note to self: I am never strong enough!

I have learned this lesson before. I have had this lesson before, numerous times. Evidently, I haven't actually learned it yet. As my Uncle Steve used to say, "Learning is a change of behavior."

However, by that standard, I am learning because I am changing! And there is hope in that.

I took my will back. Neal A Maxwell said "The submission of one's will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God's altar. It is a hard doctrine, but it is true. The many other things we give to God, however nice that may be of us, are actually things He has already given us, and He has loaned them to us. But when we begin to submit ourselves by letting our will be swallowed up in God's will, then we are really giving something to Him."

I gave it to Him! At least part of it. I gave Him what I could, and I kept giving a little more of my will as I recognized it. But then, I slowly began taking it back. I'll take it from here. I got this.

Soon, I could literally feel the pride consuming me. But I didn't understand where it was coming from! I couldn't see that it was because I was taking back my will and doing things my way again. I knew it somewhere, and I didn't take enough time to search it out. Admitting I'm wrong is hard.

Will = trust. Wherever my will is, that is where my trust is also. If I take it back, I'm saying that I trust myself to get me through this. Me. A mortal. If I take it back, I'm saying that I don't trust God, my Eternal Father, all-knowing, all-wise, infinite God. I trust me over Him? If I take back my will, I'm saying I trust myself more than I trust Jesus, who Atoned for me so I could overcome this very thing.

My brother Jesus Christ, who took upon him my pains, sorrows and affliction. My Jesus, who bore the burden of my every sin so that I may experience peace on this earth and throughout eternity. He took on the wounds of my afflictions; the bruises of my iniquities, the chastisement of my peace. He took my punishment so that I can be free, and I dare say "I'll take it from here?" I dare mock His sacrifice by presuming I can handle it on my own?

No. I need Him. And if I don't need Him, then I'm being selfish and cruel. When I take back my will, I'm taking back my only true gratitude. Everything else I have, I have because of Him. I cannot be grateful when I hold my will also. "I'll take it from here?" I'll take His blood and His tears? I'll do it? I'll take His sacrifice and pay for my own salvation? I'll take His place as Savior?

No! I cannot, and how dare I presume to do so? I cannot save myself anymore than an infant can survive on her own. If an infant refuses her mother's breast, she will die. (Well, or bottle, but that didn't sound as good.) An infant can no more decide to feed himself than I can decide to save myself.

And yet, still, I try. Let me do this. I got this. I'll take it from here.

Jesus took it already and I can't take it from here. I can't take it from Him. The only thing I can choose to take from Him is my will - my agency, my trust - after I've given it to Him. And when I do that, my life becomes awfully messy.

Life's too big. Give it to God.

President Packer said, "Perhaps the greatest discovery of my life, without question the greatest commitment, came when finally I had the confidence in God that I would loan or yield my agency to Him--without compulsion or pressure, without any duress, as a single individual alone, by myself, no counterfeiting, nothing expected other than the privilege. In a sense, speaking figuratively, to take one's agency, that precious gift which the scriptures make plain is essential to life itself, and say, 'I will do as you direct,' is afterward to learn that in so doing you possess it all the more."

Beautiful. And I know it to be true, for when I successfully turn my will over to God's will, I am happy, strong, and powerful.

Helaman 5:9, slightly modified: O remember, remember, Stephanie . . . remember that there is no other way nor means whereby you can be saved, only through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, who shall come. . . .

I cannot save myself. There is only one way, and it's certainly not my way.

Dear God,

Thank You for helping me out of the deep pit of addiction. I know I have a long way ahead of me, and I trust that You will continue to help me. I'm sorry I slipped. I let go of Your hand because I thought I could climb alone. Here, Lord, here's my hand again, and my heart. Please, take it from here,

Amen.

Facebook Confession Aftermath

At 1:01 this morning, I posted a link to My Story to my Facebook timeline, with this description: "Did you know women, and even good women, can be/are addicted to pornography too? Yep. And here goes. Shame-free livin' right here."

And then I just did. I posted it. So far, I haven't received much flack about it, so that's good. I wanted it to be just another post, kinda, and not a huge deal. And I think that's how it went. I did receive many supportive comments which is very helpful. I already knew that I had the most amazing friends, and this proved it!

I have been thinking about this for months. I have known I would do this for months. Finally, I got on my knees and asked my Father what He thought I should do. I worried about repercussions, sure. I knew some would judge, and that was okay. Maybe some would "unfriend" me. Maybe someone I loved and respected would say something cruel. Maybe someone would spread false rumors. Maybe I'd never get married again. Maybe it just wasn't the right time- I didn't know. So I prayed and I asked the One who would know if it was okay.

My answer was clear, and beautiful, and I don't feel like sharing it in this public medium. Just know that I posted in response to the answer I received.

And here's how I feel about it now: Free. I feel like I am hiding nothing. I feel like I get to be me, now, the whole me, holding nothing back- and that feels amazing. I feel like I own this, now! I own this addiction and no one can touch me. No one can bring me down about it anymore. No one can threaten me. I have told all my secrets and I am free.

I think this was a good thing to do. My 1st purpose in sharing was to let other women know they are not alone if they are afflicted with this or a like addiction. My 2nd purpose in sharing was to obliterate my own shame surrounding this addiction. My 3rd purpose in sharing was to just plain talk about sex addiction among women! We need to talk about it more and bring it out of obscurity! We need to tell it like it is.

I feel great about it! I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm not ashamed of my past. I'm not ashamed of my addictions. I'm not ashamed of needing the Atonement of Jesus to heal and guide me. I believe that shame prohibits growth, and as long as I hang on to shame about anything, I won't be able to move forward in that area.

I'm no longer interested in hiding. Here I am! This is me! See me for all that I am. I expose my heart to my God and to my peers. This is me: addicted, afflicted, flawed, and beautiful. Human. Just like you.