“I guess you aren’t the person I thought you were.” This was the classic go-to phrase of my mother whenever we would have a disagreement. By themselves, not an altogether intense paring of words. But, the messages that this phrase cloaked and the emotional intensity that it packed was huge. I grew up in a home where conformity was demanded. There was a right way to do everything. A right way to think, to behave, to act, to respond. Whenever I would step out of line with that- which I rarely did- I was met with clear messages to get back in line. For a long time, I thrived under this system. I learned to live in it, to belong to it. I adopted my family’s way of thinking, seeing and doing. And I never questioned. Above all, I never questioned.

When I was fifteen years old, I had my first exposure to anything pornographic. It was a Playboy at the house of one of my parent’s customers. I was there helping them that day, and I snuck off to peak at this forbidden thing. When I look back, I realize that it was a pretty immediate hook. I did not have a lot of access to pornography, but it began to take a secure place in my mind. I would think about it, wonder about it, and fantasize about it.

By the time I was sixteen, I had discovered pornographic channels on cable television. This began to escalate my interest. I did not know why it was so alluring, so appealing. All I knew was that I kept going back. Up to this point in my life, my home did not have the internet. When I was eighteen years old, we finally did. It was not long before I began to discover the endless amounts of lurid material that could be downloaded over the web. By the time I was nineteen, I was fully hooked. At the peak of my addiction, I would look at internet pornography 4-5 times per week on average. All the while, I did not understand how I had ended up at this place. I knew it was wrong; I knew I should not do it, but it offered me something I was not finding anywhere else.

I think the intensity of my parents’ message to conform and my speed with which I became addicted are linked. In pornography, I found something exciting. I found something that offered acceptance of me- albeit counterfeit. I found medication. The more I began to grow and change from the person my parents had outlined, the more my internal fear and anxiety elevated. Pornography and fantasy had been a medication that I was taking all the time to calm things down inside. Granted, there was a lot of shame that came with acting out, and I experienced a lot of stress trying to hide the things I was watching. But these feelings were more manageable then the ever looming anxiety that dominated my interactions with my parents.

A year into college, I was a full blown addict, but I had become a Christian. In doing so, my faith provided me with community, with people who loved me would and who became an invaluable piece in the story of my recovery. The summer after I graduated college, I started a Master’s degree program and in the process, began to see a counselor. He shot straight to the heart of my life. He asked about the things that I hid. He asked about who knew me, who really knew me. He stepped into my life and knocked on my heart. I was blindsided in a lot of ways. I did not even know there were so many issues related to how I handled my emotions and my relationships. Suddenly, there was this entire world inside of me that had been covered up. It was not long until my counselor connected the dots for me and helped me to see that the sexual addiction was not only medication, but it also was a steel door which blocked anything from really entering into my heart. It was during this time that I really began to pursue sobriety.

I have found myself going back to the same empty well over the years, and  I have found myself wanting to give up many times. Somewhere along the way, I started measuring things differently. My life used to be dominated by whether I had acted out or not. How long had it been? How bad was the last one? Do I need to confess it? Thanks to my counselor and the many, many loving people who God has brought into my life, I ask different questions, reminding myself constantly of the importance of opening up to people.

I see that I have to repent from pornography, but I have much more than that to repent from. I have to repent for how I have handled fear and shame and anxiety. I have to repent of how I have done conflict and relationship. I have to repent for the steel door that is in my heart which keeps people away. I wasn’t just a sex addict when I sat down at the computer. I was a sex addict when I killed my emotions. I was a sex addict when I took abuse from other people and swallowed it as my shame. I was a sex addict when I was being passive and avoiding difficult conversations and relationships.

God began to slowly reveal all of these places in my life - all the places that I run and hide from Him and everyone else. Today, I know where those places are and I know that I always have the option to go there. But today, I also hear the voice Jesus calling my name and reminding me of where I belong.