Reset sobriety (day 1)

I have reset my sobriety date to yesterday. I have come to a new understanding of what sobriety means to me -- a new definition. And via that new definition, I violated sobriety during the past four weeks because I was not "rigorously honest in all my affairs." One thing I was not rigorously honest about was waffling about my definition of masturbation; that can be found in an earlier post.

I believe I finally now have a definition of sobriety which will truly work for me. Some in the program will not agree with it; some will say that I am not maintaining sobriety at all. It definitely does not meet the strictest definition, from Sexaholics Anonymous: No sex with self or anyone other than a spouse. But with this definition, I believe I can be honest and consistent in all my affairs, and not fall into unmanageability.

I have realized so much in the last 48 hours, and I am still realizing it. An ongoing epiphany. One realization is that I believed that my secret life, my dishonesty, was caused by addiction and my desire to pursue my desires behind my wife's back. That's partially true, but now I also realize that it's also the other way around: The secrecy triggered the unmanageability of my addiction. As long as I was maintaining a secret life, I was totally alone: NO ONE knew the whole story, not even my best friend from kindergarten that I supposedly tell everything to. And being alone and telling lies of commission or omission to EVERYONE was too frightening to handle, so I ran for comfort in my addiction, which I had to keep secret ... and the snowball grew as it rolled down the hill into a bottomless abyss.

I think maybe I even became addicted to secrecy -- at least it became a way of life. And that may be part of the reason that I cheated on my lover, who was giving me the companionship, affection, sex and fetish behavior which I have craved for years. In the past month I have on several occasions literally screamed, "Why did I do this to her?" (And to myself.) And I honestly did not have a shred of explanation! I may never know entirely why I destroyed the best relationship I ever had. But now maybe I have part of the answer: I was addicted to secrecy, and felt some perverse need to keep secrets from her, even though I had no reason to.

So here is the absolute truth: I have a spanking fetish, which I first engaged in when I was six years old. In my fetish, the spanking is consensual, not as forced punishment; therefore I virtually never spanked my children, and the few times I did so I realized that I could not do so because of the potential conflict of interest. My fetish is about the "voluntary relinquishment of control" (my phrase) that a spankee gifts to the spanker. They share this intimacy, this exploration of the line between pain and pleasure and the point at which the two become indistinguishable -- and that place is one of true sharing and intimacy, despite what professionals have told me to the contrary.

I don't know if I was born with this fetish or acquired it, but I believe that it is unlikely to ever go away. So this was one of my key reservations with my program of recovery. In inpatient treatment they told me that my fetish was sexualizing childhood trauma which I experienced, and that being in recovery meant no longer pursuing the fetish. Maybe they are right, in a perfect and simplistic world. But I know what I am INSIDE, and I cannot and will not deny that spanking is part of who I am. Maybe that's powerlessness: I have an overriding need to engage in this behavior. But that does not mean it has to be unmanageable.

It is manageable as part of a consensual, committed, monogamous relationship.

That meant it was not manageable in my marriage because my wife did not want to engage in spanking, though she did at one point make a loving attempt to accommodate my fetish. So I went outside the marriage for spanking -- not for sex acts, though I admit they occasionally occurred. And that destroyed my marriage. I am sad about that -- she's a wonderful woman whom I miss. But I knew that was going to happen eventually, and in a way it was a relief (or so I thought) that I could pursue my fetish and not have to live the secret life anymore.

So I met my lover through a spanking site. At first our encounters were platonic, while I was still living at home with my wife as my marriage disintegrated. That is, they were as platonic as an encounter can be when the woman is bare-bottomed over the man's knee. That was adultery in my wife's eyes, and I understand that. But to my future lover and I, we were clearly not engaging in a sex act.

Once I moved out of the house into my own apartment, my lover and I began dating. It did become romantic, and it did include sex. She hadn't been the only one I was chatting with online, and I did not stop chatting with those people -- or stop trying to line up new spanking partners. I told my lover from the beginning that I planned to spank others, and at first she was OK with it, so in that sense I was being honest. And I only spanked one woman during this love affair, and my lover actually helped set that up! But I also told my lover that I was not actively seeking others, when I really was. So I was continuing to engage in unmanageable behavior -- that is, secrecy -- and it was only a matter of time before I got caught, just as my wife had caught me several times before.

This is where my addict's "stinkin' thinkin'" took over. I told myself that as long as I did not actually spank anyone without her knowledge, that what I was doing (playing online) was OK. And that thinking became even more twisted as our love affair developed. I realized that it would be wrong for me to have secret encounters with other women, but my addict told me it would be OK to have secret encounters with men! That I would not be cheating because she would still be the only woman that I was spanking or having sex with! I had always been bi-curious, as are most people at some point in their lives, and my addict decided that this was the time to find out what it was like. So I did pursue encounters with men, both for spanking and for oral sex. I had three over a period of several months. I didn't enjoy them, and by last summer I stopped. At first I went back to trying to meet women online who were into spanking, but in August I stopped that behavior, too. I was deeply in love, and my lover was fulfilling my fetish. And she also was expressing grave concern about her prior agreement that it would be OK for me to spank others. The spanking which she helped set up and witnessed disturbed her greatly; it was the intimacy of it that she did not want me to share. We argued about this on several occasions, and it became contentious enough that it was a possible deal-breaker. I did not want to give up that "freedom," even though I had no one in mind, and had not enjoyed the one spanking that my lover witnessed, and most of all that my lover was the best spankee I had ever been with or could ever imagine.

In early September, we went away on a romantic Labor Day holiday that included no sex because she was on her period. We had a wonderful platonic time, and I came to the conclusion that I could live the rest of my life without engaging in spanking or sex with another person. But I did not tell her that; in my cautious way, I wanted to think about it for a while to make sure. Then it all fell apart when she found emails I had written to both men and women, and she broke up with me. This was the great irony, that I had quit the behavior. But on the other hand, if she had not found out, then I would have had to harbor that secret about what I had done -- and would have yet another relationship that did not include rigorous honesty.

And that is my most triggering behavior: I hold secrets, I feel guilty and alone, I act out. The Great Truth for me is this: If I tell the truth, my life is manageable.

It seems so simple, but this is the issue that goes back to childhood trauma; I was accused of so many things that the truth did not matter. I was screamed at for things I did and things I didn't do, and the truth had no place in it. So I lost sight of the value of truth. Now it has come flooding back.

This is the hope I have for my lover and me: That she will realize how I have changed, that I would never lie to her again, neither lies of commission nor lies of omission. That she COULD trust me, because I am not the same person I was a few weeks ago (or even a few days ago).

Of course, that would take, as she told me the last time we communicated, a "leap of faith" that she wasn't sure she could make. I would be sad if she decides not to try, but I would understand. I did betray her, I did hurt her deeply, and how does she know that I have changed, other than what I say and do -- and I was good at hiding and lying before (though not good enough to avoid being caught).

If she decides not to try again, then I will go on; as I say in one of my three new affirmations: "I release the guilt and shame" of what I did to her. To hang on to it, as I have for the past month, was destroying me.

My next relationship, whether with her (hopefully) or someone else, will be built on rigorous honesty -- and will include spanking. That is my truth, and to live a rigorously honest life, I must not hide that fact from the incredible men who have helped me with recovery. And if some of them in 12-step decide that means I am not sober, then so be it. But here (finally) is my definition of sobriety:

1. I live a life of rigorous honesty in all my affairs.
2. All fetish and sexual activity with others will be in the context of a consensual committed monogamous relationship.

And today is Day One.

Hope