A few months ago, my husband and I sat in our car in an empty parking lot. We’d gotten the kids settled with a babysitter, although it had taken longer than usual, and had driven to a place we knew we could park in relative peace. The rain was drumming on the windshield and a chill started seeping in when we turned the engine off.

“Do you want to say a quick Serenity Prayer together first?” Mark asked.

“That sounds good,” I responded.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Our voice blended together with the tapping of the rain.

“Ok,” I said, “here we go.” I picked up my cell phone, pressed *67 to block my number and then dialed the number scribbled on the scrap of paper in my hand. I’d copied it from my e-mail before we left home that evening. Writer AJ Grossman picked up the phone.

“Hi. Mary?” she said, “That’s a pseudonym, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And so is ‘Mark’, correct?”

“Yes.”

She was writing an article on sex addiction for Elle magazine, and we’d found each other while she was looking through the blogosphere for addicts and their partners to interview. Mark and I had agreed to talk to her about our experiences with sex addiction. In the days before the call, Mark and I had read parts of the Twelve and Twelve aloud together and discussed the Eleventh Tradition regarding interactions with the media. Mark had spoken to his sponsor. We were as aligned as what we felt we could be with our Higher Powers and the greater good of helping those still in the throes of active addiction and codependency, but we were both still feeling anxious and uncomfortable about where attraction to the program ended and self-promotion began. After all, could either of us say our motives were entirely pure when we found the idea of being interviewed for a piece in a major national magazine a little exciting and gratifying.

The interview started with me. I struggled to answer questions about life during my husband’s active addiction. I didn’t want to tell Mark’s story for him, and I was still worried about that gaping chasm of self-promotion I seemed to be dancing near. But as the interview went on, I relaxed more and told my truth the best I could. Then I handed the phone off to Mark and listened to him describe his addiction and recovery with openness and honesty, and I was filled with love and admiration for the work that he’s done and for the place he’s come to. He talked about the secrets he had carried that he swore back then that he would take to his grave, and how he did share those secrets and it freed him. And I laughed, because those secrets that were supposed to haunt him in death were potentially being shared with the entire readership of Elle magazine.

After we hung up the phone, we sat in the car in silence for a moment, each dealing with our own strange mix of emotions. Both of us were feeling anxious and unsure about the interview. Had we done the right thing by agreeing to speak to this journalist? Had we adhered to the 11th Tradition? Had we been of service to others or just our own egos? But both of us were also feeling profoundly grateful and overwhelmed by the power of sharing our stories in each other’s presence.

After a moment, Mark took my hand and said, “I never imagined, years ago, that I would ever be able to talk about these things. It was just amazing to listen to you tell your story and to have you hear mine, and know that I didn’t have anything to hide. I wasn’t worried or scared about what you would think. I know you’ve heard everything before, but it was really powerful to share it with someone else with you there. I feel so close to you right now and am just filled with gratitude. I love you.”

“I love you too. And it was just amazing for me to be here and hear you sharing, and have you here to support me as I did. Whatever comes of this, I’m so grateful for this experience and for this moment right now.”

The Elle article “Sexy Beast“* was published recently and strikes a nice balance between the author’s personal story and general information on sex addiction from some of the leaders in the field. In the end, Mark and I weren’t included in the article, and for that I’m feeling grateful too. It didn’t need us, and we got out of it more than we ever would have thought possible years ago: an incredible moment of closeness, holding hands together, safe and dry, while the rain beat on the roof of the car.