Three years ago I wrote a letter to my younger self. You can find it here.
Honestly? I thought I was good. I thought I’d beaten the three-year-old porn addiction.
Life ain’t that simple. And it’s not about me. I hadn’t beaten anything.
I went back to the porn, and then fought it for a bit, and then went back to it again. And lived there for another three years.
Something happened on Friday. And I can’t explain it.
At that point I’d been more-or-less addicted to pornography for six years solid. Mostly ‘more’. The whole last year was basically a write-off. I hardly went two consecutive days without looking at stuff.
Something changed. I can hardly put it into words. The closest I can come to explaining it is that something inside me clicked. Or maybe it un-clicked. The arousal’s still there, more than ever in some ways, but the compulsion to act on it has just… gone.
It’s like someone’s reached into my head and hit a switch.
It wasn’t me. It was nothing to do with me. I wasn’t even trying to fight it. I looked at stuff in the morning. But in the afternoon there was just… nothing.
My sex drive hasn’t magically turned off. I could still act on it. Objectively.
But I don’t want to.
(I can’t believe I’m writing this.)
I don’t want to.
And it’s not even an “I know I shouldn’t, but go on, it doesn’t hurt anyone” don’t-want-to. It’s a flat “no.” It’s a “not even, mate.” There’s no need, no want, no desire to act on it.
I can’t explain it. It’s a God thing. It must be. There’s no other explanation.
And it’s a bit weird, honestly.
Because for six years I’ve been fighting a storm. Even when I wasn’t being bowled over by the wind, the most I could ever do was hunker down and turn my back to the rain and maybe not lose too much ground.
For the first time in six years, there is no storm.
No wind. No rain. No battle.
Is this what peace is like?
(I’m crying as I write this.)
Is this what freedom is like?