I think I was 8 or 9 when I first discovered my dad's stash of magazines carefully hidden in his closet. I don't remember the details about how I came to find them. I do remember having two thoughts at the time: "Wow, this looks good!" And "I better not let mom catch me." I instinctively knew that this wasn't cool. Unfortunately, I seem to have been one who was hooked after the first experience. I remember returning for another peek. I also started finding mags in other places: garbage cans, laying in the street, etc.

I had no idea what lay ahead in my life. I didn't really think I was doing any harm. It was my little secret. It was hurting anyone else. This mentality followed me into college. I always thought I would be able to leave this behind after I got married. I figured I wouldn't need the lifeless pictures anymore when I had the real thing to enjoy. When I did get married, the old porn habit did going away - or so I thought. It was just a matter of time. I don't remember when I returned to the old habit. I know it got started when I ran into an old friend from college and my wife and I struck up a foursome. He was heavy into pornography, so I quickly became involved.

Still, I didn't think I was doing any real harm. After all, I wasn't acting out in real life these fantasies I had with the women in the magazines. Nor did I ever intend to. Since I would never have an actual affair, what harm was I doing?

Well, it was a number of years later that I found out what harm I was doing. I often visited my friends before going home from work. Often times, he wasn't there yet, so I hung out in his office in the basement until he got home. One day his wife came down and invited me to come upstairs. I didn't realize what she had in mind until she started making advances on me. It wasn't long before we were in bed.

As I look back, I realize that all those years of looking at the porn, badly eroded my value system to the point that when I had the opportunity, I acted. Like it happened after my first exposure to the magazines in my dad's closet, I found myself returning for more and more.

Regardless of how well I tried to hide it, my wife sensed that something was wrong. I denied it of course, but she knew. It was just a matter of time before her suspicions were confirmed. A chance phone call, something that I could never have anticipated, brought it all out. As much as I tried to lie my way out of it, I was nailed.

Hoping to salvage my marriage, I got into recovery. At first I just wanted to convince her I was going to change. After going to group for awhile, I saw that honesty really was the path I wanted, so I got into recovery for real. It wasn't an easy path, but with the support of others who knew the story and had returned themselves from this hellish pit, I stayed with it and experienced freedom that I didn't know was possible.

In spite of my own recovery work, the damage to the marriage was too great and wasn't salvaged. I had hurt her too deeply, and she couldn't recover herself without moving on. So my marriage ended. It was devastating beyond belief. Fortunately, I had the support of my recovery group, and after 10 years I can honestly say that life is good. So much so, that I am actively involved in my recovery group and am there for the next guy. I strongly believe in the need for relationship with other men in my walk towards becoming Christ-like. Without my personal relationship with Christ and my support men, I shutter to think where I would be today. Thankfully, the group was there for me. Hopefully, I can be there for the many guys who are also trapped in this evil and wanting a way out.

Bb