To the Men I Used

This is going to be a very open, very vulnerable post. But, I need to write it.

I have found that shame is dispelled by acknowledging the truth. And I'm going to do some acknowledging here, and it ain't gonna be pretty. It is my hope and belief that by sharing so openly, someone will relate to this post and be lifted by it.

I don't really know what to call my addiction. At the PASG and ARP meetings, I always say "My name is Stephanie and I'm recovering from sexual addictions." I'm addicted to pornography, yes- but that's a facet of a much bigger disease. I used to call myself a sex addict, but upon further research, it seems that that term is reserved for those who sleep with a lot of people. I don't. I guess "sexual addictions" works just fine. I guess that covers the men, too.

I feel horrible for using men in the way I did. It started with my husband, at the end of our marriage. Some part of me shut off, and I used him for sex. He used me as well. Our intimate relationship became so empty, and so depressing. I would feel so used, and guilty for using, every time. At first, I was just going with him, you know- I wanted desperately to save the marriage, and I thought that by sacrificing my morals, I could keep my husband. Instead, I lost self-respect and my husband. He used me first, and I kinda thought, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. So it was about lust at the end of our marriage, and I am telling you, lustful sex is not beautiful. It is not good. It is not virtuous, lovely, or of good report. It's dirty, and low, and left me feeling much like I felt after viewing pornography. Somehow, lustful sex is not remotely satisfying. It's not fulfilling.

I'm sorry I used my husband, and I'm sorry I allowed him to use my body.

After the divorce, I was an emotional wreck. I didn't know up from down. I was just out there, hanging and exposed for all to see. I had this neighbor who was very attractive, and he would flirt with me. He lived with his girlfriend. He would tell me I was sexy. I lapped it up. I would look for reasons to go to his apartment. I even got to the point where I justified that it would be okay if he kissed me because he wasn't married. And I even had this scenario in my head where he would kiss me and I would enjoy it just long enough before I backed away and pretended like I was angry at him for pulling such a stunt. I wasn't even divorced yet, when I first had these thoughts. I mean, the divorce was in process, but not official. Honestly, at that time, it didn't really occur to me that I was sinning in those thoughts about my attractive neighbor. Nothing ever came of them, fortunately, but the thoughts were sinful.

Before I was married, I had kissed two men. My first kiss happened 12 days before my 20th birthday. I was in love with that boy. We dated a long time. We broke up and I dated another guy, and kissed him. Then my husband was next. I didn't use any of those men except my husband at the end.

But, after my marriage-- Whoa.

Somehow, I managed to make it two years after divorce before my next kiss. His name was Michael and I'd known him for many years. He found out I was divorced and we began texting each other. In almost no time, the texts were intensely sexual. I told him I wanted to kiss him. I told him I wanted him to be my first kiss after my divorce. He was significantly older than I was, and not someone I would ever consider dating-- and that was my thing. I couldn't respect these guys, or I couldn't use them. I actually told Michael, "I just want to use you." and he said the same thing back.

Anyway, one day I met Michael and we made out in his bed and I went from two years of never touching a man to two hours of almost giving up everything I love the most. It was close, but I told him I had to go just before I would have given everything. And then I was done with him. Forever, and for good. I ignored his texts from that point on, and hoped to never run into him. I was done. He wasn't a human with a soul; he was a body with man parts.

I felt so sick after that. I walked around for weeks carrying a boulder in my gut that was filled with poison. Every step I made, I thought of my sins with that man, and I wanted to die. Of course I confessed it all, and I expected that I would have a disciplinary council, perhaps, because of how close I was. But, I didn't.

I honed my using skills after that, and didn't go that far again for another two years or so. The next man I used (a few months after Michael), I feel the worst about. I don't know if I should feel worse about any of them, because all were human. But, the next one was a nice, good guy. None of them deserved to be treated like a body part, but perhaps least of all this guy. He liked me for me. I liked him for his kissing and cuddling. I used him for that for a few weeks, then just started ignoring him. I was done. I had grown tired of him, so that was that. I'm so sorry, Man #2. I'm so sorry.

I hate the most how easy it was for me to wash my hands of these guys. I am so sorry!

After him, I decided to not use guys for that much time again. No more of this several-weeks nonsense. That just made disposal stickier. This wasn't a conscious decision, though. So, the men after that were strangers. I would look for ways for it to not be my fault. I wanted to blame him, whomever it was, so I could more easily justify my desires. One guy I made out with until he asked me to come home with him. Nope! Finished with you, thank you very much. One guy, I made out with till he told me he was married. And that's not true. I let him kiss me one more time after he told me. That still disgusts me. That one still is a source of shame. I hope if you're reading this, and it helps you somehow, that you will tell me! I feel so exposed!

Anyway, one guy was my behavioral rock bottom. He was a repeat of Michael, only more than once. I lost myself. He was one year ago. I can't even believe that! I am light years away from that place, emotionally. It's so strange that it was only just over a year ago! Anyway, I'm sorry I used him, and all the other guys.

And to the guy I dated for a few weeks last summer, I'm sorry I used you. I knew I was going to break up with him, but I wanted to make out with him at least one more time before I let him know that we were through. It's one thing to mess with someone's body; it's another thing to mess with someone's heart. This was also a year ago (different guy, though). What a rotten thing it is to use a human in the ways I did! They are sons of a most high God, and I treated them like they were tools made just for me, just for my own private use. And that is sick.

I used other men online. I would string them along, get them to tell me what I wanted to hear, and then pretend like I was shocked that they thought of me like that. I believed, in a way, that I was shocked. And it did truly offend the purer part of me that was trying to break free. But, to be honest, I would ask for it, and then blame the guy for doing exactly what I wanted him to do. I would usually give him a lecture and then say we can never talk again.

Don't get me wrong- I always felt bad for what I'd done. I confessed to my bishop each incident. But, even while feeling horrible, I also didn't care about what the guy felt. Like, it was so easy to kick him out of my life once I was done with him. I really hate that.

My addiction doesn't reign anymore. That wasn't me- that wasn't the true, genuine me. I care about people! I hate when people are hurting! I am blessed with compassion and empathy so strong that sometimes I can't stand it. But when my addict was ruling, I used humans! I ignored my natural compassion, and treated men like they were my own personal playthings. It's astonishing to me that addiction can be that powerful to change a person's very nature. I let it take over all because I wanted a kiss for a moment.

But, let's be fair here, and let's be real. I didn't really want to use these guys. I didn't even really want to kiss them. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to cease being lonely. I wanted to feel important. I wanted to feel like someone out there, a man particularly, needed me, wanted me, loved me. And it's insane to think that a make-out session with a stranger could ever make me feel loved. But that's all I wanted. And that is a healthy desire. I listened to Satan tell me that a desire to be loved was the same thing as a desire to be kissed.

It's important to be real with myself and recognize that while my behavior was truly deplorable, my reasons were healthy. And I forgive myself, because I simply didn't know how to find what I wanted and needed. And I was so conditioned by Satan's reasoning that I could not see the truth. I could not see clearly. For some time, I truly believed that some of these were "just a kiss," and that since we didn't go beyond kissing, I wasn't making a bad choice. But even when it did end at kissing, I was still using him for my selfish desires.

Also, I am overweight, and it sometimes seems like many LDS single men my age are the most superficial of all men. I always felt like I could a date anywhere but inside the Church, because of my weight. Men outside the church saw me for me. Well, finding these guys who would make out with me gave me the "I still got it!" mentality. I'm fat, I've got kids, and I can still seduce a man and convince him to want me. I enjoyed that feeling of "even though I'm fat, I'm still desirable." And I looked forward to that validation. And I craved that validation. And I didn't feel my own sense of worth, and I judged my own self for being fat, so I had to get validation elsewhere.

To the Men I Used,
I'm sorry I did it. I hope you can understand how broken I was. I didn't get that I was worth something, and that I didn't need you to prove it. I only wanted to mean something to somebody! I'm sorry I tried to extract that meaning from your bodies. I'm not like that anymore. I hope you will forgive me.

Sincerely,
~Stephanie