Letter to myself:

I never thought I’d find myself in this situation. Porn was introduced to me as a “healthy” outlet for sexual pleasure and stress relief. The first time I watched, it turned my stomach. How raw and mechanical and degrading it was. Years later I revisited it and was hooked after I experienced my first self-induced orgasm. Gradually I began to watch more often. When I was bored. When I was home alone. When I was stressed, or angry, or anxious. I had to increase the intensity of what I watched to feel the same “high.” I saw the women as objects for male satisfaction, to do with whatever they pleased. I began to see myself in the same light. My value hinged on male attention and on my sexual appeal. In my new reality intimacy was distorted and sometimes mythical or altogether unachievable. I was a slave to the addiction and it permeated through all of my relationships and any healthy coping mechanisms I once had. Now I crave porn when I’ve had a rough day at work or when the loneliness I feel becomes to heavy to bear. I’m tired of you controlling my thoughts and actions. I’m tired of the emptiness and devalued self image I have. I want so much more than this and I want to surrender control of my life to the One who made me, not my addicted self.

Letter from my sex addict:

I thought I was helping you, but I see now I couldn’t have been more wrong. I just wanted you to feel some respite, however brief, from your loneliness and dissatisfaction. I wanted more for us as well, but thought if we couldn’t find a relationship founded on healthy love and intimacy that we could settle for that cheap instant gratification. I’m sorry i’ve done this to you. I’m sorry for a lot…