“Everyone needs to write their stronghold down on a piece of paper and give it to your accountability partner.”
My blood started to boil, and I set my jaw. Never before had I been more aware of my rights. You can’t make me do this, I thought. You can’t make me tell you anything. I looked up, conflicted, tears welling in my eyes. “Do I have to?” She seemed shocked, and nodded her head.
I looked back down at the paper. God, why this? Why couldn’t it be something else? Bible reading, prayer life, anything but the porn. I don’t need to tell anyone. I can beat that on my own.
God’s answer, inaudible, was gentle and firm, “No, you can’t.”
Failing On My Own
Confession. Accountability. Those words can make our skin crawl. The idea of telling someone our deepest darkest secrets, of admitting our most personal failures, is far less than appealing.
Every expert I listened to. Every resource I found. They all talked about accountability, and it made me angry. I did not need other people. I could do this on my own. I got myself into this; I could get myself out.
I tried the hatred route: I would go online, print off pictures, and then set them on fire. I tried the negative thinking route. I tried sheer willpower. I would just get up in the morning and tell myself today was the day. This was the day I would finally be free.
Within hours, I would realize how ineffective my methods were. Then would come the wave of guilt, feelings of worthlessness, and determination that tomorrow—tomorrow would be the day.
Eventually, I ran out of tomorrows, and just decided to live with it. I was a porn addict and just needed to accept that fact. Surely, I could love God and serve Him in spite of my porn addiction. It was not that big of a deal. It was just something I did in private. It did not affect my public life at all. I was doing well in college, had great friends—life was good.
Yes, my relationship with God was a little rocky. I often felt like my prayers were bouncing off the ceiling. I just attributed that to my immature Christianity. I needed to practice praying harder. I needed to practice serving more. My faith was just out of practice.
The Night It All Changed
Then came a women’s night at my college and the one statement that changed my life: “We know some of you struggle with pornography and masturbation, and we are going to help.”
There was recognition! For the first time, my struggle was validated. Someone else acknowledged that I—a woman—could be addicted to pornography. There was help. They offered acceptance and counsel. They offered freedom. One thing stood between my struggle and that freedom—me.
Confession is the bridge that connects the hurt with the healing. It is how brokenness becomes whole.
Why We Hate to Confess Porn
So why is it so hard? Is it because we have a hard time being truthful? No, because many of us are truthful about other things. Is it because we do not want help? No, because many of us do.
Confession is so hard because we love ourselves. In our heart of hearts, we care about how people see us. The last thing we want to be viewed as is the porn addict. That immediately lumps us in with a class of societal rubbish—serial rapists, murderers, pedophiles, adulterers, prostitutes. It is not pleasant company.
What is so hard to see from that place of secrecy is that so much of our shame is of our own making. We do not tell because we are afraid others will ultimately see us the way we see ourselves. We think there can be no way that confession leads to anything other than humiliation. We imagine forever walking around with a label, doomed to bear the condemnation for our sin for the rest of our lives.
But we are wrong.
Confession leads to grace.
Confession removes one of the last obstacles standing between us and freedom—our pride. We love ourselves, and the moment that we admit that we make mistakes, the moment we confess that we actually aren’t that lovable, that love of self dies.
You would think that a dead love of self leads to self-loathing. After all, if I do not love me, then I must hate me, right? No. A dead love of self leads to brokenness, a sense of unworthiness, a sense of helplessness, and that is exactly when grace shows up.
But confession actually paves the way for grace. Grace, not shame, comes to the humble.
Killing the Shame
Shame is a product of our secrets. Keeping my struggle a secret only made me feel isolated and, at times, inhuman. The longer I kept my secret, the more I believed I could never share it. The longer I kept silent, the darker and stronger my sin grew. The longer I kept silent, the more convinced I became that I would just have to live the rest of my life with this.
With confession came light, hope, and freedom. With confession came the death of my overly high opinion of myself. No, I did not have it all together. Yes, I had fallen. Yes, I desperately needed help. That night, I acknowledged that I desperately needed his grace.
The beautiful thing is, it came.
Thanks for the wonderful article. Confession and grace are such important things for us all right now, and for everyone really. I just think you really nailed it, and said it in a way that really affects the heart. Thank you very much.
Reading ya’ll comments makes me feel less alone in my struggles. It scares me to even admit I have this problem and how it is effecting my life. On a physically, mental, emotional and spirtual level.. This ish like a drug iterrially. I feel so weak, lazy and tired all the time.. The only time I feel good is if I have an appointment to meet with someone but then my energy level go down hill from there. Maybe my depression has an effect to it? I have a hard time building intimate relationships too so that don’t help. Does anyone struggle what people think of them? even after confessing to someone u trust? If so, what do u do in those situations?
Hi Melissa,
Thanks for your comment. I can’t speak to your situation from the perspective of a female (as I am not female), but I can speak as another human being with similar struggles.
First, have you considered seeing a counselor about your feelings of depression? Finding a good Christian counselor can be a great help, especially one that is willing to see you as a whole person—body, mind, and soul—and can suggest ways you can take care of yourself physically, emotionally, and spiritually in ways to counter the depression.
Second, consider reading the book When People Are Big and God is Small. It is one of the best books out there on struggling with what others think about you.
Third, consider developing an accountability relationship with someone based on Biblical principles. This book can really help you with that (and its free).
Hi Melissa, I’m glad you’ve found some companionship for your journey here. That’s what it’s all about! You’re not alone! There’s help! We do see quite a lot of depression with internet addiction and it’s a chicken-and-egg situation–not sure which comes first, but they do seem to go together a lot of times. That hit of adrenaline you get with using just doesn’t last, and then you’re lower than you were before. Honestly, it sounds to me like you’d do well to see a counselor who could help you work through how all these issues are intertwining for you. I like to recommend the American Association of Christian Counselors, because they have lots of different kinds of counselors in lots of places. I hope that might help you! Let me know. Kay
Three years ago I resigned from the church I had pastored for 19 years because of my addiction to pornography. In the next few months I was more or less forced by circumstances into a series of confessions as I disclosed to my wife and adult children, to my board of elders, to my denominational leaders, to my SA group, to my therapists, to my marriage counselor, etc. All of that confession was necessary, but it did not seem very healing at the time. It was painful and tiresome and humiliating as I kept repeating my acknowledgement of my problem and my sin.
Eventually the season for all these dreary admissions came to a close. It seemed everyone who needed to know now knew my secret. I entered a new season of actually working on my recovery and sobriety. And then I hit a plateau. Spiritually I was stagnant and life was going forward and I was not. I was sober, but feeling like my feet were stuck in the mud.
Then one day the church my wife and I were attending offered some simple dinner opportunities so people in the church could get better acquainted. We had made no connections in the church; just showing up and leaving. I asked her if she wanted to attend a dinner and finally get to know some people. She asked me what I might tell these people about myself (about my past). I said I would tell them as little as possible. She said that that would not be honest enough. I said I don’t want to just dump my story on people in setting like that. It would be inappropriate.
But she did get me thinking. I as lived my life as a pastor, I was public person. I was a public person with secrets. I was a public person whom nobody really knew. I told people as little as possible and only what made me look good in their eyes. Then it came to me. Perhaps I should tell my story publicly. “What!?! Egad! I can’t do that!” But soon I sought the counsel of the pastor of the church–a friend who already knew my story and my recovery–and I asked him if he would allow me to speak to the congregation some Sunday. It would be a confession disguised as a sermon. I would let all the people know. He welcomed my request.
I was scared out of my mind. How does one stand up in front of a crowd–even if it is a gathering of God’s family–and say such things? Before I attempted doing this in this church where I was attending and wanting to get more involved, I wanted to do a “test run” in another church where I am and will be more or less a stranger. I called another pastor friend of mine and he graciously to let have his sermon time to come and address his congregation and to experiment on them with a public confession/testimony/sermon. Soon God guided me to scriptures and appropriate words of talking about my shame, my struggle, my brokenness and my yearning to be restored into the fullness of the experience of grace and community.
This experiment took place last Sunday. It was my “trial run” in a church in another city among people I did not know, so that even though they saw my face and learned my name, I still maintained a level anonymity. I got through it. I was warmly and graciously received. The people could not have been more loving and supportive. And as for myself, I sense that I have taken a huge leap forward. I have crossed over a huge threshold of some kind. I am still evaluating the experience and waiting to see how this plays out. Hopefully soon I will be able to make a similar address in the church I attend. I think I am accepting and owning my failures and finding God is faithful. This was not a coerced confession, but I was certainly compelled to do it. I needed a public platform because I spent so many years as a public personality. Maybe others do not have to be so public. But telling others is indeed a part of releasing God’s grace to flow–both inwardly to rebuild my damaged spirit and hopefully also outwardly to bring mercy and hope to other fractured souls.
Hi Duffy,
I’m so glad you are “going public” about this. While I know not everyone is called to stand on a platform, others like yourself who are gifted in speaking, should most definitely allow the Lord to use them as a trophy of his grace. I’m excited to see how your honesty could be free people to be honest themselves.
One of my favorite expressions I’ve heard over the years is “Give people the gift of going second.” No one wants to “go first” when it comes to spilling your guts about sin or brokenness. But when one brave soul goes first, the others feel free to speak. That person has given others the gift of going second, and that’s exactly what you have done. It is, for some, one of the most loving things you can do for them.
It just started with me. And really it has not gotten that bad but I know it will if I don’t do something about it. But the confession thing is really hard. I am not sure if I can do it.
Understood. It is hard. But you have to ask yourself what costs more: a life of openness and honesty with others or a life of secrecy while you stay trapped in your addiction? This is what should motivate you to share. You need to realize that your secrecy is costing you a lot more than a confession will.
I have internet addictions for years since I was very very young. I am 24 now male. It is very furstrating not being able to over come it and not being able to tell anyone:(
Why aren’t you able to tell anyone?
Not just shame in this area, but what is the root cause of this symptomatic behaviour??? most likely childhood shame/ secrets etc……make friends with your past if you haven’t already or you will be running from yourself for the rest of your life……plenty more addictions waiting……food/caffiene/alcohol……marital sex…….cigarettes, codependency, rescuing, anger, rage……
Also don’t expect church to help you with this problem, they don’t………they’re not equipped to deal with the power of this…….it takes approx 5 years to come out of sex addiction
I don’t think it helps to bring satan into this, that can become a distraction from taking self responsibility and looking at the cold hard facts of science and psychology. God gives us hope to overcome this and a solid purpose for doing so, we can trust in him. The devil is not out to get you, own your personal struggle and share this with someone, tell them everything. Shame is the driver of this, a very powerful emotion.
Jessica, I struggled for 7, almost 8 years, from about 8th grade to just now when I am a junior in college. I recently, in the past few months experienced exactly what you are talking about in this article. I was at a point of desperation to find freedom from my addiction. I had dealt with just accepting it as part of who I am, but I wasn’t satisfied. I would’ve rather died than ever told anyone about it. but, when I discovered what confession and true accountability can do to tear down the chains of addiction I ran towards it. The hardest thing I ever did was say “I struggle with pornography” out loud to another person. But it became the first step to the hardest but most rewarding journeys of my life this far. I have never been so free in my life. I serve a mighty mighty God that break any chain and tear down any wall and heal any hurt. thanks for sharing this. I love being reminded that God changes our lives. God Bless.
SKB
Thank you very much for your bold confession and story!