‘I will never be rid of the temptation to look at porn. But I have learned to resist it’

My trouble with porn was kindled in a supermarket magazine aisle, but it was the coming of broadband that ignited my addiction.

In public, I earnestly denounced porn, yet alone with a computer screen, my mind was filled with a heady fog that blotted out logical thought and fear of consequence, leaving only a hunger to see just a bit more than I’d seen before. Then, when the spell was broken, the shame would come crashing in.

Never again, I would say. And I meant it every time.

With the approach of university and the prospect of unfettered internet access, I felt chained to an addiction that was dragging me ever deeper into damaging content.

But then, one evening, God sent a pastor after me as I made a hasty exit from church. The conversation didn’t start with porn, but that was where we ended up. There were tears, and there was compassion and I went home that night determined to dig my addiction a grave.

An unseen war

That night was the beginning of an unseen war that spanned more than a decade.

My first confession broke the seal, and every subsequent confession that came afterwards was easier because of it. Shame is like a jailor spitting threats: What would happen if your addiction were discovered? But every confession revealed that empty threat as the lie it truly was, powerless to hurt me.

I learned to reject enemy propaganda about the offended God from whom I ought to hide

Addiction is like a parasite, convincing you it’s native. Confession is a surgeon’s spotlight, exposing something which doesn’t belong and needs extracting. But confession must be approached with caution. Not all are wise, or good, or ready for that information. We must look for those who look like Jesus.

My first battle strategy was accountability software. Although it taught me little other than how to find loopholes, it did mean that porn was no longer easy to access. And the less of it I saw, the less I went looking.

In my second academic year, a hardware malfunction meant my use of the internet was limited to public spaces and, for the first time in years, I was free. The addiction had been broken. Even when my Wi-Fi was fixed six months later, I had no desire to return to it.

But then I moved house. And a simple change of scenery was all it took to bring the addiction crawling back. I had yet to learn self-control.

Failing well

There is no quick fix to pornography addiction. Resisting temptation involves growing muscles that are flimsy from neglect - and they won’t gain strength without exercise.

Through tears, I begged God to take these desires away from me. But he didn’t. I slowly learned that having trials removed is not how children grow into adults. We grow by facing them, failing and learning.

I learned how to fail well.

First came humility, as I was forced to jettison the high view I had of myself and accept the less impressive reality. Then came the realisation that this was the me that God sees and still loves. God, who endured the cross precisely because we are all bound to fail.

I learned to reject enemy propaganda about the offended God, incredulous of my sin, from whom I ought to hide. I learned instead to kick up dust in Satan’s face by running straight to God in my failure.

“I’ve done it again! This is not who I want to be!”

They were far from dignified prayers, but the habit of turning to the Father in my wretchedness drew me closer to him.

I learned to celebrate small victories. Resistance of any sort is sign of a muscle strengthening. Slamming shut the laptop, even after an hour’s obsessive browsing was a victory over the craving to carry on for another hour.

Short term progress was depressingly slow but, as I looked back over a span of years, things began to look more optimistic.

Recognising temptation

“Unless you do something different, nothing changes.” Following this wise advice from my counsellor, I introduced a new habit into my day. I set up a chart to mark the moments when the desire to look at porn came upon me. I began to identify not just the triggers, but the sensation of temptation; the subtle hints and suggestions that popped into my head that would send me to the top of a slippery slope.

Having trials removed is not how children grow into adults. We grow by facing them, failing and learning

It was like throwing back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz. Temptation’s talons snapped. I was free at last and I knew it! 

That freedom lasted for a year and a half. Then, once again, a house move and a disruption to my routine opened a chink in my armour, allowing addictive habits back into my life.

I’m thankful for this relapse and the wisdom it taught me. Until my dying day, I know I will never be immune to temptation and, in our hyper-sexualised world, I will never be far from its snares. But over a decade’s training has taught me to recognise the tempter’s devices and, even if I should fall, I’ve learned how to get back up again.

Porn addiction is a silent pandemic, spreading in its natural habitat – secrecy. Nobody talks about it and so everyone feels alone. I hope that sharing some of my story may counter that. We need to talk about porn, for our own sake as well as others.