True Story From an Anonymous Contributor #1
By the time I understood what pornography was, it was too late. My conscience was telling me that what I was doing wasn’t right, but I didn’t know how to stop. I hid my problem from everyone, convinced everyone would hate me for what I was doing, as much as I hated myself. The more I [watched], the more I hated myself, and the more I turned to pornography for release. As a form of punishment, every time I messed up I wouldn’t allow myself to eat a meal. I saw it as a good solution. By doing so, I might defer myself from [watching], while getting the kind of body the women I saw had. My perception of beauty was warped. My perception of everything was warped…I tell myself, no one would ever guess I have this issue, so there must be others out there who are hiding it just as effectively as I am.
I was pretty naïve.
I was standing in a cold phone booth, far away from home when my mom broke the news to me.
My brother was getting a divorce.
I had never even heard of a “pornography addiction.”
I remember looking through the frozen glass, at the streetlights glaring off of slick streets, seeing nothing but my own shock.
She was a part of my family. She had been like my sister. She was a good person.
But uninvited, as I thought back, pieces started falling into place. This new information answered questions that I had never even consciously asked, but now that I knew, it seemed so obvious. We all should have seen, could have seen, if we had wanted to.
The strain in their relationship, the tension, the distrust, the lack of respect.
I never knew until that moment that my family could be part of the statistics.
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Too many people suffer in silence from the effects of pornography.
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