A Naive Boy, A Broken Man: Porn (Pt. 1)

The porn addicted boy is a great tragedy of our day, yet one that is rarely discussed. You see, he never wanted to become addicted to porn. He had no idea what it was until one of his peers at school showed him a picture of a naked 20 something year old during lunch time. Who would have known that the female body would incur such an intense exhilaration to parts of his body that he had not yet “discovered”. He didn’t. He had no idea what a girl even looked like under those pretty dresses and form fitting jeans, until that day. And so it began, with a little leaven and such a great feeling of bodily intensity that his curiosity was sparked and he did what any curious boy would do, he sought more. The boys at school had already been exposed, infected with this disease, so who better to ask where to find these things but them. A few terms, a few websites, and the world wide web, and you’ve got yourself a goldmine. But wait, isn’t this the stuff your mom told you to stay away from (never mind your dad, he only loves you from afar)? Isn’t this the type of thing your lackluster excuse of a religion teaches against. Your morality says no, that little voice in your head says no, your heart says no, but you don’t know the difference between any of them and all you could think about is that bodily exhilaration you felt when you saw that 20 something year old spreading her legs, so you ignore all of it and search for more. When no one seems to be around, when there are none to barge in suddenly in the midst of your newfound religion, you search. And you find. A sea of women, any age you’d like, any type you’d like. Black, white, Hispanic, blonde, brunette, redhead, thin, curvy, tall, petite, you’ve got it all at your fingertips. Who would have known that a 12 year old middle school boy could have so much power at his fingertips… Little did he know that what seemed like power in that instance was actually taking his power away. Little did he know that this sickness would throw him into a sea of shame, with crashing waves of doubt, gusts of zero self-confidence, and an endless storm of fear. Yet here he was, enthralled, pleased with his discovery, having found this feeling once more, with greater intensity, greater, greater, GREATER… What’s this? (Im)Pure bliss! “Who would have known that there was more to this joy, to this great feat that I have found,” he thinks to himself. And off he goes, lost in the ecstasy of his new delight, completely satisfied… for now.
You see it never stops there. You remember the feeling, and like a dog to your own vomit, you return. You need your fix. No better than a crack addict, yet this is okay by societal norms. So you indulge and you indulge and you indulge until one day you realize that you are no longer a boy, that you’ve become a “young man” and this thing that was once a newfound pleasure has become an addiction, a disease that has kept you from knowing what real intimacy really is. So here you are, 10 years later, stirred by your heart for something more, something real, trying to play catch up in the intimacy game, all the while sailing across the sea of shame searching for land, some hope perhaps, yet finding none. You fantasize about intimacy, the intimacy you traded away for that sexual fix, yet like a fly to a pile of shit, the thought of even approaching a girl invites a new demon, anxiety. So you’re stuck, you’re up against a wall, hopeless about entering the land of milk and honey, you go back to what you’ve become so familiar with, you’re greatest demon, your most faithful friend, porn.
And so the cycle continues…

To Be Continued…