Anchored to the bottom of sin's sea

One man's struggle with pornography addiction

If you had taken one look at my family when I was growing up, you probably wouldn't have noticed anything abnormal. We were fairly wealthy, lived in a resort city, attended church and even ate meals together. My parents worked hard to provide nice things for us to enjoy.

My dad enjoyed reading a lot of books, and he subscribed to a lot of well-known magazines including Playboy. He kept them neatly stacked in a hall closet. Older issues dating back to the 1960s were kept boxed in the garage. I first looked at one of the soft-porn magazines at age 11. Some time later, I was showing a friend one in the garage when my parents pulled up in the driveway. Mom just smiled and went inside while Dad later told me, "I don't mind if you look at them, just put them back when you're done." Sex Education 101 was in session.

The images of women and even the articles on being a man in Playboy defined manhood for me.

My dad and I had virtually no communication, especially about sex. I guess he thought that by browsing through his collection, I would learn what I needed to. What I was exposed to still haunts me today.

Time passed and I continued to gaze upon the sexy nude portraits month after month. Even as I was about to graduate high school, I still longed to see those images. They were the last thing on my mind before I went to sleep each night. Once in college I didn't have regular access to my dad's stash of mags, so I would occasionally drive to a local liquor store and buy one or two.

I became friends with some Christians my sophomore year, and through their influence and prayers, I committed my life to Christ. I didn't struggle with pornography for about a year. But, all too soon, the memories came back and I was faced with the old temptations. Now when I went to buy a magazine, it was done in secret. When I went home for a visit, I went straight for the closet after everyone else was in bed. All the while I was known as an "on-fire believer." Inside I was torn in two.

It was now my senior year and I met Kathy. She was a fireball for Christ and we began dating. She thought she knew me, but how could she since I wasn't able to be real with myself or anyone else.

After graduating I went to work for a well-respected national ministry. Kathy and I got married and enjoyed things until the first year of marriage caught us by surprise. Kathy was depressed about being so far from home. I didn't make much money working for a non-profit organization, so things were tight financially. From time to time I would get so stressed out and would need a release. Of course I had to go buy a magazine. It was where I had found my security and manhood as an adolescent. I'd usually just skim the pages quickly in our home's bathroom, act out, and then throw the magazine away, condemning myself horribly afterward. I would vow never to do it again, but I was locked in a vicious cycle.

My wife became pregnant later that year and was taking a course at a local university. I would drive her to class and then go up to the school's computer lab and cruise the Internet, starting at the Playboy site of course.

After our first child was born, I took another job at an even better-known international ministry. After working there for six months I was still carrying the secret baggage of unknown sin in my life. Fortunately, my junk was about to be exposed.

Our marriage was crumbling so I went to see a Christian counselor. Little did I know he specialized in treating men with sexual addictions. It didn't take long for him to see I had some deep-rooted problems. I was eager to get this out in the open and walk free from its stranglehold on my life. For five months I attended counseling sessions and listened to a series of tapes dealing frankly with sexual addictions.

The hardest thing I did during that time was tell Kathy. She was crushed. But my counselor told me in no uncertain terms that Kathy had to know if I wanted my marriage to be restored.

She knew little about pornography and so it was quite a shock to her, even though my journey down porn's deadly path was relatively short.

We are still working through the pain today, and I've accepted the fact that she may never be totally over it.

Next I told my parents and a few trusted male friends. My parents, who became Christians while I was in college, were shocked too. In fact, I didn't get much of a response from Dad, which didn't surprise me. Someday I hope we'll be able to talk openly about it. Mom simply stayed passive and quiet, just as she had done while I was growing up.

Out of the eight close male friends I told, all confessed the same struggle in some form or another in their own lives. Most who were married also said their wives didn't know. All of these men worked with me in ministry.

The greatest thing that happened through uncovering my addiction to pornography was the uncovering of me. I had lived like a double agent for the CIA, leading two lives. I was actually pretty good at it and thought I would never get caught. But God had been on my trail all along. Now for the first time in my life I am able to be real with others about the junk in my life, not just the good stuff. The sad part of the whole affair of my mind was that the fear of being found out prevented me from having honest relationships with anyone. I became a master at changing and directing conversations the moment they got too deep. I learned to use my sense of humor as a defense mechanism and kept people at bay. Everyone liked me, but no one knew me. Today I am finally living without the constant threat of someone knowing who I really am.

Tactfully and prayerfully, I try to take hold of opportunities to witness to other men who are caught in the web of pornography. I have found there are no easy answers in dealing with a sexual addiction, only daily choices. I still struggle with the temptation to browse the Internet or pick up a magazine on a business trip. Thankfully, 95% of the time I "wake up" and realize I don't have to walk in my old ways. I also know that my wife and Christian brothers are going to ask me how I've been doing. Now I run to Christ for my security and my definition of manhood. I find He's been waiting all along.

Note: The author wishes to remain anonymous, and all names used are fictitious.