Wounded Little Boys; Broken Grown-up Men

"How could he do this to me? To our children? To God...and to himself?" nearly all of us cry out in the early days of discovering that the man we gave our heart and life to has shattered our world by violating the sanctity of our marriage and giving away what we believed was ours alone.

Yes; how could he? How could they?

In the twenty years since I first realized I needed the answers to these painful questions, I've learned that it is a rare man who wants to hurt his wife this way, and that nearly every sex addict feels deep remorse and shame. And I've learned that inside nearly every grown-up sex addict hides a wounded little boy; a little boy who still feels the pain of his long-ago emotional wounds because he hasn't found a way to heal them. And for most, solid, long-term sexual sobriety remains slippery at best until someone helps that little boy-turned-grown-up-man shine a healing light on the ancient lesions of his psyche and his soul and do the hard, slow work of closing them.

One Addict's Recent Goodbye Letter to Porn

by Anonymous

I guess I have to turn my back on you now. You snuck into my life while I was still young and I let you stay for way too long. You have been masquerading as a friend, companion and even a healer of sorts for many years. Sometimes I used you as a fill in for my other addictions, but when I felt very desperate, I gave you the lead role as my primary addiction.

You failed miserably at everything I thought you offered; especially in the days when I actually trusted that you had some value as my friend. Back then, although you totally disgusted me, you were able to at least temporarily make me forget my problems. But you never eradicated my pain.

For so long I thought that I could balance the damage you caused to my life against the benefits of escape. But in time, I finally realized that there were no benefits and that your influence was more dangerous than my other addictions could ever be. Because you were able to masquerade as a normal impulse--and even a healthy release in times of great agitation, worry and stress--you seemed and acted normal. So I simply thought that I would know if I had too much of you for my own good.

Well, I did not know it and in time you became worse then the problems I was trying to escape. You would not leave and where was I to go to get rid of you?

Finally, just today I realized that I could no longer entertain you. Nor can I provide you with even the smallest doorway into my life by rationalizing that if a little bit sneaks in, it is OK. This was, and is, one of your greatest tricks: getting me to believe that small doses of you were harmless and could not harm me.

But now I see that that is like saying arsenic is not dangerous in small amounts. You are dangerous in any amount and the door is now closed. I know you will keep knocking because I have given you too much power and too much knowledge of how my mind works. However, now I will be giving you something way more than information when you knock on the door. Now you will be answered by the Holy Spirit, and you will never pass through him unless I let my faith grow weak.

So this is it. We are parting company. Should you happen to slip through and wind up in my doorway, you will be met by a person who no longer needs you; one who has found the healing and strength to live life without the medication you offered.

Consequently, your services are no longer needed or desired.