In today’s article, I’m going to share a porn addiction story with you. One that I believe every porn addict can relate to.
This story is going to teach you how to heal porn addiction using methods that, in my opinion, people don’t talk about enough.
It’s also going to teach you the truth about the underlying psychology and root causes of porn addiction.
This story will be told from the perspective of a father who is watching their son struggle with a pornography addiction. Regardless of whether you’re a parent to a porn addict, a spouse of a porn addict, or the addict themselves, I believe this story will help you. Above all, I hope it helps you feel seen, understood, and loved.
Journey Out of Darkness | A Porn Addiction Story
When my son was 12-years-old he started to act in ways that I didn’t understand. Sure, I understand that boys go through puberty and all that, but he really started to change. And I mean REALLY started. Everything about him changed.
He used to be so obedient and conscientious. He used to be dedicated to his school work and treat my wife and I with respect. When he entered his teenage years, it was like he’d forgotten all of the things we’d done for him, and all he wanted to do was play video games, hangout with his buddies, and squander his time with meaningless entertainment.
Then, one day, my son and I faced a particularly embarrassing event, as I found him watching porn on the computer. I didn’t grow up with the internet. ‘Porn mags’ were hard to get your hands on when I was a teen. We didn’t spend much time with porn, let alone even hear the word. When I caught my son with porn, I told him that he wasn’t to look at things like that. It was wrong for him to do so, and the Good Lord knew it. After that, I assumed the problem was taken care of.
But man, was I wrong.
His behavior with porn ran deeper than I thought. I talked to him many times about the morality of such behavior, and that he needed to stop or else it would impact his marriage and life down the road.
He’d act embarrassed, get real quiet, and sometimes become defensive. I thought that if he just felt bad enough about it he’d stop. That’s often how things worked for me as a boy anyway.
It was impossible for me to understand at the time how my words were only making the problem worse for my son. I couldn’t see that I was only adding to his struggle, and that the things my son needed were so very different from what I thought he did.
The years went by and my son moved out of the house. He lived with roommates and got a job working as a waiter in a local restaurant. He didn’t start college or pursue a viable long-term career path, nor did he indicate any real desire to do so. Other than work, he spent much of his time doing the same things he had at home; playing video games, hanging out with his buddies, and more porn behind the scenes I assumed.
When I was with him, I passively indicated my disapproval of my son’s life, and sometimes questioned him about his life choices. I believe he could feel my disapproval of him when he was around me, without me even needing to say it.
I kept thinking if I just had the right words to say at the right moment - telling my son to shape up, live up to his gifts and talents that I knew he had, many of which had become dormant as far as I could tell…if I could just convince him or push him into changing…he’d stop all the nonsense and get his life together.
When my son hit 32-years-old, he was working the same dead-end job, hanging out with the same friends, his dating life was relatively non-existent, and he spent his free time playing video games. And, I assumed, watching porn behind the scenes.
As time went on, I felt more angry and saddened by my son’s life. Sometimes, I felt it was my fault that he’d ended up where he was. And other times, I wanted to offload that blame onto him entirely, believing that I’d done everything I could for him and it was his own choice to squander his potential.
My son and I grew increasingly distant as the years went by. I regretted what our relationship had become, but I just didn’t know how to reach him. I would try to discuss with him plans for his future, or express what I thought might be a wiser path. None of these discussions went well; I got that same quietly defensive reaction I had when he was younger.
Then, one night, I had a dream.
I dreamt I was in a vast wasteland of nothing but dirt, weeds, and dead trees. It was dark - though I could not tell whether it was day or night - and the land was dry, and void of all life.
I wandered through this wasteland until I spotted something. Its color was black and it was about the size of a man.
As I walked towards it, I perceived that this black mass was sucking in everything around it (that is, if there were anything to suck in). It was a type of blackhole, as best I can describe it.
Upon approach, I could see it was positioned over the top of the body of a man, as if this blackhole were a replacement for his head. I felt, more than saw, that this man with a blackhole for a head was in pain. I felt an urge to go to him, speak with him, and see if I could somehow help.
Just then, someone else stepped into view, getting between myself and the man. To my great surprise, it was me.
This “twin-me” told me not to approach the blackhole of a man. He said that he was dangerous and must be avoided.
For whatever reason, I felt it was important that I speak with this blackhole-man. Even imperative. I told the twin-me that I appreciated how he was trying to protect me, but I needed to proceed.
Again, the twin-me expressed his great concern that I not approach, and that this man was not to be trusted. I responded again that I appreciated his care in letting me know, but I greatly desired to help this blackhole-man, and felt I might be able to do something for him.
Without further protesting, the twin-me left the space, giving me the opportunity to approach.
As I approached, I gained a better look at the blackhole spinning above his body. Spinning and spinning and spinning - consuming everything around it.
His emotions were in chaos and turmoil, and standing so near to him I began to feel them come upon me as if they were my own.
I began to feel his great confusion and fear, and was overwhelmed with the sense that he was lost. He felt ashamed of what he was, overcome by the belief that others saw him as disgusting and evil.
These were all of the feelings this man felt, and what I now began to feel as if he and I were somehow connected.
I perceived that he had been stuck in this place for a very long time, so long that it felt like an eternity. I asked him how long he had been here, and after thinking about it for a while, he responded it had been 20 long years.
Confusion and shame were his constant companions, and they dominated his existence every moment. They had become such commonplace for him, he no longer knew any different.
I listened to his thoughts, and as I listened he told me a story.
He told me about things that started happening to his mind when he was 12-years-old. Things that he didn’t understand. He felt a strong and overwhelming urge for what he did not know, but this urge consumed much of his attention.
Though he did not have the knowledge he needed to comprehend his urges, he did know enough to understand that they were bad, immoral, inappropriate, and even evil. He believed that because he felt them it made him evil too. The fixation continued to grow day after day, and the more he fought it the stronger it became.
It troubled him deeply that no one knew what he was going through. But how could he tell them? He didn’t understand what was happening to him, so how could he explain it?
And that’s where he was stuck…
In that moment I understood him and his insurmountable pain. I felt his fear. I felt his loss. And I felt his inability to get out of the blackhole that was slowly consuming him.
My understanding of his impossible situation grew until it was perfected. I saw this man’s life and regrets pass before me. I saw the dreams he had once had which were buried so deeply that he no longer hoped. I saw how disgusting and wrong he felt.
Amidst this turmoil of intense and hopeless thoughts and emotions, the strangest thing of all was that I did not loathe him. I did not even judge him. I understood him perfectly, and simultaneous with all his saddening emotions that flowed inside me was an overwhelming compassion for who he was and what had happened to him.
While I felt this man’s pain perfectly, I also felt a perfect love, beyond any earthly love I had ever known. A deep understanding of the pain that consumed him every second; this confusion and isolation that he felt - not knowing what to do - and so he remained fixated on consuming, consuming, consuming as much pleasure as he could get, because it’s the only thing he knew to keep himself distracted from the pain within.
As this man shared these insights with me, the spinning blackhole that was his head began to slow somewhat and I sensed some level of calmness peaking out amidst the chaos of his mind.
Then, he told me more. He told me how angry he felt that no one had talked to him about this, no one had told him what was happening to his brain and his body when he was 12-years-old. He felt terrified and isolated, and though it had been 20 long years, he felt he was still that 12-year-old boy. Bitterness filled him, knowing it wasn’t right that he didn’t have any help.
I began sobbing uncontrollably. I felt how hated and evil he felt, and I felt how much he just needed someone to see him, the way that I saw him in that moment.
After feeling alone for 20 years, he felt now that someone finally understood. And with that understanding, the spinning blackhole that was his head continued to slow.
As it did, he shared yet more with me. He shared how he knew deep down that he was good, and he wished people could see that, but he felt no one did. No one saw him for who he truly was. No one saw his gifts and his talents that had laid dormant for so long.
As he shared this final information, I sensed it was something he had not considered in all those years.
Realizing this opened something inside of his mind - a new path of possibilities. And with this realization, the spinning blackhole that was his head slowed…and slowed…and slowed…until it finally stopped.
In the space where blackhole used to be was the face of a man. And the man was my son.
I ran to him and embraced him. I told him that I saw him and understood him and that he no longer had to be isolated and confused. I knew he wasn’t evil. I knew he was just doing the best he could with what he had at the time.
I asked him where he was stuck? What was the location? The answer came that he was still there in that bathroom in our house in Cottonwood Heights - the place where he had felt overwhelming feelings of shame, fear, and craving.
I told him that he no longer needed to be there. If he wanted me to, I would take him away from that place. I would take him wherever he wanted to go.
He was surprised, and said he’d never considered that as an option. I told him that it was. And I told him we could go right now if he wanted to.
He said he would like that. I asked where he wanted to go. He said he wanted to go to the beach, the one we used to visit before we left California.
So, in an instant, we were there, walking along the beach in California and enjoying the foam of the waves upon our feet.
We walked side by side, enjoying the breeze.
I asked him how he was feeling. He told me that his burden had left him. And for the first time in 20 years he felt free.
“With all that pain, shame, and confusion gone”, I asked, “What has taken its place?” He thought for a while, and then he told me, “Strength and compassion. I want to help others do what you helped me do. I want to help others break free too.”
I smiled and told him how happy I was for him. Peace spread across his face and tears of joy rolled down his cheeks and mine as we walked along the shore.
And then, I woke up.
After the dream, my relationship with my son changed. I no longer tried to lecture him about what he was doing with his life. Instead, I asked him questions about his experiences and showed genuine curiosity and interest in how he felt, regardless of how I might see things differently. I encouraged him in the good he was doing, no matter how small, and I opened up space for him to talk and listened when he expressed.
I stopped judging him, and I started understanding him. I stopped resisting him and I started accepting him.
Now, years later, I am overjoyed to say my son has made something amazing out of his life. He’s married to a good woman and has a beautiful baby boy. He helps addicts who struggle with what he once did, and he loves helping them in their journey to overcome.
While I wasn’t the one who changed him, I did bear witness to that change, while offering him a space of acceptance and positive regard. I love my son the same now as I did then. Only difference is…I’m much happier for him now, and I’m grateful to see the light in his eyes.
Sometimes I think back to that man with the blackhole for a head, and I am reminded of the importance of the path my son has walked. He could not be who he is now if he had not once been that blackhole.
Where this Porn Addiction Story Originated
This porn addiction story is based on a therapeutic experience I had in an IFS therapy session, where I came face to face with an ‘addict part’ of my mind and had a sacred interaction as best I can describe it. While the father in this story is a fictional character, the feelings and events described were mine.
The 'addict part of me', as it is termed in IFS, became addicted to porn and masturbation when I was 12-years-old and remained stuck in the shame and belief that it was unlovable, alone, and perceived as evil. I had the opportunity to see all of the pain and feelings of deep confusion that I carried in this part of me, and I helped it feel truly seen for the first time in 20 years.
‘Moving toward’ the hard emotions is crucial for long-lasting porn addiction recovery. When we struggle with pornography addiction, it is not simply because we crave sex and pleasure. It is because at some point - typically in our youth or childhood - we became locked in a mindset of shame and fear and a belief that we were unworthy. To cope with those feelings - as best we knew how with the underdeveloped mind of a child - we chose pornography.
Many porn addicts have a part of their mind that is still there in the past - stuck in that bathroom or at that computer screen - believing horrible things about themselves. If we can truly see ourselves and get in touch with the pain behind the porn addiction - showing ourselves compassion and love - I believe we can start to unravel that pain. Through this unraveling, I believe the answers to overcome porn addiction will emerge, and through subsequent learning and application of the proper mindset and lifestyle tools we can quit porn for good.
Family can help us do this. Friends can help us do this. God can help us do this. But ultimately, we have to walk this journey ourselves. We have to take initiative. I believe anyone can heal porn addiction if they take a proactive approach and seek help.
Stop Porn Addiction
For the ultimate guidebook to beat porn cravings, download my free eBook: The 10 Tools to Conquer Porn Cravings.
You’ll learn 10 quick mental techniques that you can use anytime, anywhere to redirect your mind and replace porn cravings with new thought patterns and mental habits.
You can also check out my Free Workshop: The 8 Keys to Lose Your Desire for Porn, where you’ll learn a practical and applied roadmap for recovery, including…
The REAL root causes of porn addiction.
How to stop porn cravings before they start.
The 4 Unconscious Drivers of porn cravings.
1 simple daily practice to get out of the addiction funnel
And a whole lot more…
So, head to nomoredesire.com, or hit the links in the description, to grab the Free Workshop or the Free eBook and get going on the next steps of your recovery journey.
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