I remember when I did my first fifth step, and I called two non program friends to tell them about it.

The first said, "it was probably pretty easy, you're actually a pretty good guy"

The second, through peals of hysterical laughter said, "Let me guess, it was you crying and saying, then I slept with her...and her.....and her.....and her....and her.....and her.........and her......"

It was a HUGE weight off my mind, but the funny thing was, and this is just me, but I really started to get value from the fifth step (even though I have done about a dozen formal fifth steps) when -hearing- them from sponsees.

What became blindingly obvious was these stories were only important because they were "their story", that what they had done really wasn't that bad, run of the mill basic stuff people do, but by keeping it a secret it was destroying them, but when I heard their story, I forgave them and had unconditional love for them, then something funny happened, when I forgave them, I forgave myself, and I realized all my stories were just that, stories, and only important because they were mine. Bill addresses this in the 12 and 12:

What are we likely to recieve from Step Five? For one thing, we shall get rid of that terrible sense of isolation we've always had. Almost without exception, alcoholics are tortured by loneliness. Even before our drinking got bad and people cut us off, nearly all of us suffered the feeling we didn't quite belong. Either we were shy and dared not draw near others, or we were apt to be noisy good fellows craving attention and companionship, but never getting it--at least to our way of thinking. There was always that mysterious barrier we could neither surrmount nor understand. It was as if we were actors on a stage, suddenly realizing we did not know a single lines of our parts. That's one reason we loved alcohol too well. It did let us act extemporaneously. But even Bacchus boomeranged on us; we were finally struck down and left in terrified loneliness.

When we reached A.A., and for the first time in our lives stood amoung people who seemed to understand, the sense of belonging was tremendously exciting. We thought the isolation problem had been solved. But we soon discovered that while we weren't alone any more in a moral sense, we still suffered the pangs of anxious apartness. Until we had talked with complete candor of our conflicts, and had listened to someone else do the same thing, we still didn't belong. Step Five was the answer. It was the beginning of true kinship with man and God.

This vital step was also the means by which we began to get the feeling that we could be forgiven, no matter what we had thought or done. Often it was while working on this Step with our sponsors or spiritual advisors that we first felt truly able to forgive others, no matter how deeply we felt they had wronged us. Our moral inventory had persuaded us that all-round forgiveness was desirable, but it was only when we resolutely tackled Step Five that we inwardly knew we'd be able to recieve forgiveness and give it, too.