When I first started attending secular 12-step meetings for the loved ones of lust addicts, I noticed that the facilitator of each meeting made sure to read information about the Seventh Tradition, which usually sounded something like this:
“Our Seventh Tradition states that ‘every group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.’ We have no dues or fees for membership. The Seventh Tradition collection is used to cover group expenses and to support local and world services.”
This seemed like a standard “pass the basket” kind of script, explaining why the group needed money but not pressuring anyone to contribute more than he or she had to give at the time. I had no problems with the weekly Seventh Tradition spiel, but I also didn’t give much thought to this tradition’s significance. It was housekeeping, nothing more.
It wasn’t until I began working with a sponsor in that fellowship that I began to see the idea of being “self-supporting” in a new light. In recognizing my powerlessness over the effects of lust addiction in my marriage, I became clear on how much I had been conflating supporting my husband with destroying myself. In journaling about powerlessness when I was working on my first step, I had to list all the ways I had tried to improve my marriage, and I had to write about how all the things I had tried had not made things better. If anything, I was making things worse by trusting someone untrustworthy and asking for help and emotional support from someone who’d proven time and time again he was not going to be there for me.
I had to admit it was insane of me to think that I had the power to make someone else better when I could barely better myself. Perhaps what was even more insane was my acting like my husband, who was thick in the disease of lust, was in a position to provide me with the emotional, mental, spiritual, and even physical support that I needed—and deserved as a beloved child of God.
At my next meeting, when I heard the Seventh Tradition script read with the passing of the basket, the word “self-supporting” jumped out at me. In all my efforts to be a “good wife,” I’d done everything I could think of to support my husband and get him to support me. That wasn’t working.
Was God calling me to be self-supporting? If so, what would it mean to “decline outside contributions” in my own life?
I decided to do some reading, some journaling, and to talk with my sponsor about what it means to be self-supporting.
I discovered that the Seventh Tradition exists to provide people in recovery with dignity, responsibility, and freedom.
I invest in my own dignity as a precious child of God when I make good choices to share parts of myself with people who are in a position to honor my vulnerability rather than taking advantage of it.
I cultivate godly strength when I take responsibility for doing good things for myself instead of completely surrendering my well-being into the hands of sick people, including my sick husband.
I grow in God’s gift of freedom when I reclaim my God-given right to take care of myself instead of waiting for the approval of someone who is living in the fantasy created by a lust-driven life.
Treating myself well instead of appeasing my husband has been difficult at times. He doesn’t like it when I am wisely occupied with taking care of my emotional sobriety, because that means I’m not available to manage his emotions for him.
However, when I accept the tasks of self-support rather than doing things for my husband that he could do himself—only to find myself depleted and resentful—I pay him the respect of giving him his dignity, responsibility, and freedom. He cannot learn to become a supportive person until he practices supporting himself.
Neither can I. My weekly meeting reminds me that I am powerless over the effects of lust addiction, especially in my marriage, but God has given me the power to make choices that help me grow in dignity, responsibility, and freedom when I choose to support myself well.
Catholic in Recovery has a meeting for the family and friends of lust addicts. Join us for experience, strength, and hope every Tuesday at 9 pm Eastern/6 pm Pacific.
Catherine A. Quinn is grateful to be recovering from the effects of lust addiction in loved ones. She writes about both the pain and the healing and hope that are available to those harmed by all aspects of this addiction.