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.