CASTIMONIA

Sexual Purity Support & Recovery Group

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Christians and Pornography

I saw this interesting graphic on PureHope’s blog originally posted by Covenent Eyes and found it amusing.  The reason I found it so amusing is that I believe that the numbers shown on the graphic (50% for Men and 20% for Women) are lower than reality.  It should read, within the Christian community, 50% of Men/20% of Women admit to watching pornography.  There are many more within the Christian church that will not admit to viewing pornography and will not find help for their problem.

Even if the number is “only” 50% of men, that is still half of the men in church view pornography on a regular basis.  Next time you are in church, look around and generally count the number of men, then realize that at least half of those men have been looking at pornography.  Hopefully you are reading this and are not one of them, but if you are, there is help for you.

I recall during one of our Men’s Fraternity group meetings an anonymous survey was passed around where we all answered questions on our pornography use.  From the 30 or so participants, 100% admitted to having used pornography with 75% or so using it regularly (weekly to monthly).

I will post a survey later to check on my own results from other Christian men on the issue of pornography usage within the Church.

Take what you like and leave the rest.

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What I Wish I’d Known Before Watching Porn

Lauren Dubinsky wrote a very powerful article on what she’d wish she’d known before watching porn.  What stood out to me the most was that some, if not all of these items were what I wish I’d known before watching porn.  I have listed her “wish list” below with my comments at the end.

I wish that 10 years ago someone had educated me on pornography. What it is, what it does and what it reaches in and destroys in the hearts, minds and bodies of men and women.

I wish that someone would have told me that researchers have suggested it sabotages your sex life.

I wish someone would have explained how dopamine, the chemical that is released every time you experience pleasure, drives you to return to what provided that feeling before.

I wish someone would have told me that the kind of pornography you’re most turned on by is usually linked to a corresponding hurtful event in your life, further injuring your brokenness.

I wish someone would have told me pornography would normalize things I wasn’t emotionally or physically ready to handle in my relationships with men women, making me feel like I had no options or control over my sex life, filling me with much regret and physical pain.

I wish someone would have told me I would begin to objectify men women, build up images in my mind and think of sex day in and day out, to the point where I couldn’t remain focused on anything else.

I wish someone would have told me it would make me feel less valuable to men women and bring up insecurities for years in the bedroom.

I wish someone would have pointed out pornography can establish your sexuality completely apart from real-life relationships, causing huge problems in your intimacy with real significant others.

I wish someone would have explained what “sexual anorexia” was and that countless young men are unable to get erections because they’ve been watching porn since they were around 14 years old.

I wish someone would have told all the men women I’ve dated that the porn they are watching is keeping them me from being turned on by me them, ultimately destroying our relationship.

I wish someone would have told me that the dopamine and oxytocin being released from my watching certain types of pornography would cause me to question my sexual orientation, which in turn cost me relationships with friends.

I wish someone would have told me it would subtly create a “victim” mentality in my mind, causing me to be even more sensitive than I already was to [making] catcalls, whistles, and even sincere compliments.

I wish someone had talked about how women others watch it too, so I wouldn’t have had to spend years living under the shame that comes with being “the only one” and thinking there was something wrong with me.

My “I wish” list is nowhere near complete, either. In the end, I simply wish someone would have told me why it was so harmful, instead of simply putting it on a list of things we don’t talk about. We all know our rights and wrongs, but seldom do we know what makes them so. Had I known how much it would have harmed me, I would have left it alone.

I have used the strike-through function to change the orientation of the “I wish” list.  For me, Lauren’s incomplete “I wish” list is nearly identical to mine.  There are a lot of things I wish I had known before watching pornography, but in my case, it started at age 4 by finding my father’s pornography – not much that can be done at that age other than not to keep it in the house!

For those parents who think that their children won’t find their secret pornography stash or find it on the computer, I ask you to PLEASE get rid of it ASAP, especially if you have young children.  Chances are, it may be too late, they might already have been exposed and are not telling you.  I hid my secret for over 30 years!

You can read her entire article by following the link below:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-dubinsky/porn-addiction_b_1686481.html

Take what you like and leave the rest.

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A Letter to Dad (From a Girl that Got Trapped by Pornography)

Originally posted on http://www.covenanteyes.com/2012/08/03/for-women-who-struggle

A Letter to Dad (From a Girl Who Got Trapped by Pornography)

by Jessica Harris

I don’t blame him anymore; for a while, I did. He left, so it was easy to pin everything on him. My anger, insecurity and porn addiction could be traced back to one man—the man who left this daddy’s girl without a dad. The years have helped me see my choices are my own, just as his were his own. But things might have been different if he had never left.

I thought I was fine without a dad, but five years ago, God brought a ‘second dad’ into my life. This man and his wife took me into their hearts as one of their own. He avidly pursued my healing and restoration. Having gone through that experience, I think I speak for every daughter when I say, “Dad, we need you.”

There is something unique and incredibly powerful about the love between a father and daughter. When I talk with women who struggle with pornography, or even women in the porn industry, many (though not all) speak of having an absent father. It was not always divorce or a single-parent home. Sometimes dad was there but just not involved—too wrapped up in his job or even his ministry to take the time needed to nurture his daughter’s heart.

If a dad is disconnected, it leaves that little girl searching to fill that void. Yes, we could turn to God, but in a society full of sexed-up men and empowered women, it is far easier to run to lust. It is not enough to simply live in the same house. Your daughter needs your presence more than she needs you present.

So, how can you protect her from pornography and lust in a world that is out to conquer, destroy and use her?

Be a living reflection of God’s heart

Be…

Godly. You are her gateway to understanding God as a Heavenly Father. The way you treat her colors her view of how God views her. Paint the clearest picture of Him that you can. Hint: you’ll probably need His help.

Overtly-Protective. Overtly means to be obvious. Think of it as mirroring God’s jealous love. She is your daughter; protect her and be obvious about it. Yes, guard what she sees on TV, what she does on her phone or on the computer, but also protect her heart.

Determined.Your daughter is living in the middle of a world that is determined to get her. There are men in her life determined to wear down on her morality. There are women in her life determined to stretch her boundaries. Sin is actively pursuing your daughter’s heart. You need to be purposeful in keeping it.

Sexually pure. By all means, love your wife; the world needs good godly marriages, but please, ditch the porn. Boys will not be boys, and it is not OK. If you view women as objects for your desire, that is how you will treat them. You cannot protect her from pornography and lust if you are the one letting it into the house.

Her Hero. When’s the last time you rescued her? This is a lot easier to do with younger girls. All it takes is a cardboard sword to be her knight in shining armor. When they get older, it involves changing a flat in the pouring rain or purposefully rescuing her from a bad day at work. She needs to know you are there for her and that she matters to you.

Engaged. It’s not being nosy; it’s love. Know what’s going on in her life. Put away the laptop, ministry notes, office transcripts, tool box, golf clubs, and hunting gear long enough to know your daughter. Know what she knows. Know her friends and be aware of situations where temptation may come.

Approachable. What if she messes up, dad? Are you someone she is comfortable approaching or would you fly off the handle? If she is afraid to ask for help, she will retreat and often turn to things like fantasy or erotica in order to escape. Be approachable; pray with her. Show her what it looks like to turn to God in our times of need, because He is always approachable.

Real. This may seem bizarre but porn offers false connections—a false reality. Porn is full of ‘perfect people.’ She needs real people, not perfect people. My friend Matt Fradd just released a DVD on being a real man. Real men do not necessarily cry, and they do not actually have to wear pink. Real men love the Lord and embrace His calling on their lives. They experience failure, joy, pain, sorrow, victory, loss, hope—humanity. Let her see how you handle the reality of life.

The man you want her to marry. Many of you just cracked out the shotgun and said, “No one is coming anywhere near my baby girl!” Chances are some man will win her heart. Whether good or bad, she will likely end up marrying someone like you. Be the kind of man you want her to marry.

It isn’t a foolproof formula, because we live in a fallen world. There are women who have fallen to porn while growing up in great Christian homes with a loving Christian father. They fell just because. ‘Just because’ does not happen much, but if ‘just because’ does happen, you want to be the father that can help rescue his little girl from pornography. Do not give up on her, Dad. Do not ever believe that she is in the clear. Never walk away. As long as she is your little girl, she is going to need you.

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I Was a John

The story below was linked from an online news story and copied in its entirety.  I hope this “self-loathing” sex addict has hit rock bottom.  But by the second to last line, it sounds like he is still in denial of a problem….  May God grant him serenity!

It doesn’t pay to be a John. This is my story…

I write this piece as a warning to men in the DC metro area because I don’t want them making the same mistakes I did. In this large metropolitan area of nearly six million souls, you have people with a lot to lose; from your attorneys, business executives, scientists, and government employees, to your staffers that work on the Hill and even in the White House. So getting arrested (I’m not disclosing where I was arrested exactly) and having your reputation ruined is the last thing you want happening. Many of you who are repeat Johns or are thinking of becoming a John for the first time, need to think about that reality. I know it’s not something that really crosses your mind, but rest assured it can happen to you.

Take it from me, your former John. What I’ve done is now public information and is splattered all over the web. If you were to do a web search on my name, my mistake is there for the entire world to see. Sure it’s buried on the third or fourth page of search results, but eventually I’m going to have to answer for what I’ve done to anyone and everyone for the rest of my life. I wear a scarlet letter now.

I suppose I should be thankful. In other cities if you’re arrested for solicitation of prostitution; the police post a picture online along with your name and home address. It’s almost like you’re a sex offender, never mind that what you’ve done is a misdemeanor. They make if feel much worse; like it’s a felony. You’re almost expecting to be stoned to death in a public square.

What would drive any man to seek a prostitute and pay for sex you might ask. Some men are married and see escorts, while others are single. Some men are just lonely like myself. It takes all kinds–Eliot Spitzer, Jerry Springer, Hugh Grant, and David Vitter to name a few of the high profile cases. These are men who had everything, loving wives, great careers, kids, money and power, as opposed to the regular Joes (aka Johns, pun intended) with much less to lose, yet even that is too great a thing to willingly destroy.

As for me, I’m not married. I’m single. Actually I’ve always been single. I’m in my thirties and have never had a girlfriend. I’m not an attractive man. Women have never found me desirable. I was bullied a lot as an adolescent in grade school and this followed me all the way through my teenage years in high school. I wasn’t even safe in my own neighborhood. I was bullied for how I looked and for my ethnicity. I was a minority in a city full of minorities (I’m not originally from the DC metro area by the way). All of these attacks to my young persona destroyed me and the damage seems permanent. Even now, I really have no love for myself when it comes to my appearance. I value my ability to achieve and my intelligence, but other than that I don’t like myself very much. I am a lonely individual and loneliness can drive people to do the ridiculous.

My first sexual experience was with a lady of the night. It happened in my early twenties in the backseat of a friend’s car in the infamous Hunt’s Point section of the Bronx. After that experience it took me almost another decade to seek out paid sexual services again. I eventually came to the realization that I had hit my thirties and was a failure in my personal life. Everyone else I knew was either in a relationship, getting married or having children. This was how things are going to be I thought. I can only be with a woman if I pay for it and this is how things went for quite some time. I was now in the DC metro area & I used Craigslist to find my prospective “providers” until they shut that part of the site down and then I migrated to Backpage. Eros DC is another option but I found it was too expensive.

As I committed these acts, the thought of anything bad happening to me never crossed my mind. You hear about other Johns being arrested in the news, but you never think that you are going to be the one caught one day. Well, I was caught and let me tell you for what I’ve been through I’m never doing it again. I’ve never been in trouble with the law before and I don’t have a record, which is all the more reason why I found my arrest so traumatic.

—–

I found her on Backpage. She was advertised as the “perfect lover” a “busty Asian lovely doll.” She said she was Japanese. I gave her a call and asked her what her “donation” was. That’s the term you use when speaking to an escort. What you will often hear back is a monetary value followed by the word “roses” after it. In this case her donation was around a hundred “roses.” I then asked her where she was located. Sometimes they’ll ask you if you are a police officer first. Apparently, they think that by law if you’re a police officer you have to say that you are. Somehow, I doubt that.

In this case she did not ask of my “affiliation with any type of law enforcement.” I was given the address of a hotel where I was to meet her. When I was in front of that hotel I called her number again and was given her room number. When I knocked on the door and was let in I saw a woman who was not the woman I was expecting, this sadly is a reality of the escort underworld. She was much older but I went through with it anyway as many Johns often do in these scenarios.

After we were finished I proceeded to strike up a conversation. I learned that she was from China and was here on a visa. She had a husband that was still back in China. She was here to make money in one of the few professions open to someone here on a limited visa I suppose. She was heading back to China in August and this was only June. She was still learning to speak English and I found myself having to write down my sentences on a notepad so she could understand me better. I asked her what her age was and she answered with a question: how old was I? I told her my age and her next answer was that she was around that age too. It is only after we were all arrested and our names released to the public was I able to discern that she was actually much older.

It is at this time that I want to mention that I had actually seen her before. This was our second albeit unexpected meeting. Again, the Backapge advertising was false and I was expecting it to be someone else, but it was her again. As I left her place she gave me her number should I ever want to call on her directly again. Later, when talking to the police I would tell them that she wasn’t paying for the room herself. She was working for someone and would call them when a new John had arrived to confirm. I threw away the paper with her number on it as the police did not take it from me.

—–

I was leaving the hotel where I had just met my latest “friend” and was trying to justify the cost in my mind as I walked down a busy street bustling with nightlife. I was oblivious to my surroundings and I never saw my judge, jury and executioners coming. They appeared out of nowhere. The next thing I felt was the coldness of the glass window as I was forced up against it and then the tightness of the handcuffs as they were snapped into place on my wrists. It was open season on Mr. John. I was visible to everyone. Had anyone I knew seen me I don’t know what I would’ve done afterward to myself. I thought to myself that I rightfully deserved my fate and I am readily willing to admit it.

They were watching us Johns the whole time. As we went in an out of the rooms. In the end they got a whole bunch of us along with the escorts. It was a reverse prostitution sting without the female officer. They used the escorts that were there as the bait. I honestly should have turned back the minute I saw a police car in the parking lot leaving hurriedly, probably thinking that I spotted them or on their way to bust another John. But I wanted what I wanted and I paid the price. Even now when I walk past that hotel I look to see if they are staking the place out. I sometimes will see a police car parked there waiting for its prey. I then think about the poor fool who is about to be caught. Of course they use unmarked vehicles as well. If you see people standing around in a parking lot in plainclothes that’s them. All of this was being done the night I was caught, they actually didn’t come out of nowhere and I was stupid not to see the signs and know that they’re always watching.

I cooperated fully with the officers and told them everything they wanted to know. They spoke to me about the perils of prostitution. Besides the danger of STD’s (and yes I use protection) and the physical danger that these women are putting themselves into; I could also be robbed. They relayed to me some of the horror stories they’ve been subject to. While I too have read some of these stories online, having a police officer tell it to you in person really wakes you up to the reality.

So I appreciate what the police are doing and I know that I was wrong. All I’m saying is I’ll never do it again–not so long as I’m in a place where it’s illegal. The pain I’ve put myself through is not worth it. Now every time I’m walking and hear a car screech I flinch thinking it’s a cop coming for me.

I suppose I’ll rely on legal adult entertainment media from now on…

Don’t turn into me.

By

Bedtime Stories: Flashlight Needed

I really enjoyed reading this short story.  See my personal interpretation below.

Bedtime stories: Flashlight needed

Posted on July 27, 2012 by Hobbles

Once upon a time there was a little boy. He had found a little dirt cave, all his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t like others, he just needed a secret. Every day when no one was watching, he would run to his secret place.

At first just being there was enough. He liked to be alone with his thoughts, his feelings…it was nice with no big sisters to bother him, and no one asking him questions or wanting him to do stuff. He grew to like the silence. To want it.

As time went on though, he became bored with his tiny space and he started digging out the walls to make it bigger. It wasn’t that hard to do. The dirt was soft. It got into his fingernails though, and that part was hard to scrub out, but with time he became used to the dirt. It stopped bothering him.

The hole did bother him though. He had made it bigger, but it still seemed to make him feel cramped. He realized that maybe if he cleared out a little more, it would feel alright, so he scraped the walls and clawed the dirt away.

Each day he still went home when playtime was over. He was a good boy. Just a little dirty and a little tired after all his digging. His sister stopped bothering him so much. She said that he was mean, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to leave him alone. His mom and dad wished he would stop getting so messy, but he tried to get clean. At least clean enough so they wouldn’t be mad.

Then he would wait. Wait and think about his secret. He thought about it a lot. When he was at school he wished he could go there. When he was helping his mom in the garden, he thought about how the dirt from the cave felt under his fingers. Sometimes he wondered if he should try finding a new hole. The one he had, was starting to get more comfortable though, in a still cramped way.

One day he went to the cave after school. He thought it was looking big. Maybe big enough, but if he added just a little more space…so, he dug. He clawed at the dirt on the walls, and he clawed at the dirt he could still reach on the ceiling. He felt a little fall down on him, but he didn’t mind. He was too focused on digging.

While he was digging at the ceiling near the door, some of the dirt from the back started falling down. It happened quickly, but the boy didn’t notice until clumps of dirt started breaking off in his fingers and he was struggling to breathe. Everything around him had caved in. His head and arm had been near the entrance to the cave, so he could see the sky and he could move his arm. He gasped for air as the pressure squeezed him. He closed his eyes…and he started digging…

The way I read the above story is that of an addict, particularly a sex addict who can escape into their own little world, or in this case, cave and medicate their feelings.  I learned to do this at a very early age.  I would escape feelings of loneliness and abandonment through sexually acting out.  The further into the addiction I went, the “safer” I felt until the cave-in and me hitting rock bottom.

Now, in recovery, I am digging my way out, slowly, carefully, one day at a time.