My Story

My name is Stephanie, and I am recovering from sexual addictions, including (but not limited to) pornography and masturbation. I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I fully believe its teachings and doctrine. I love it with all my heart, and believe it to be the one completely true Church on the earth. Anything I write will reflect those beliefs.

Because of my sexual addictions, for years- many years- I figured I was a freak of nature. I figured I had a "man's disease." I figured there was something monumentally wrong with me. I couldn't believe that any other active LDS woman, or Christian woman, or good woman, could possibly be afflicted as I was. The filth was heavy and saturated with shame. I felt so dirty. I felt so alone. How could I reach out? How could I tell anyone? How would anyone think any differently about me than I did: Dirty, low, hopelessly ill, alone, freakish, worthless, dark?

I am happy to report that I now understand that I am none of those things. I have found my worth! I have found safety. I have found peace and refuge through my Savior, Jesus Christ. He has come to rescue me, and I follow Him.

Well. Here is my story. Take it as you will.

I was very young when I began this addiction. I'm sure I thought I was the only one. As the years passed, guilt overcame me every time I gave in. I would punish myself afterwards because I knew I was being bad. I would bite my arm till I could see the ruptured blood vessels beneath my skin. If it didn't leave an ugly yellow and purple bruise for several days, I felt like it wasn't punishment enough. Later, I resorted to cutting. I'd cut my arm and make sure it was high enough to be covered by my sleeve. I had to be punished, I thought.

I confessed the first time when I was 16. Oh, what fear seized my tongue while in that gracious bishop's office! I didn't so much confess as agree when the bishop guessed it. But I left his office feeling amazing, feeling free. I thought that was the end of it. I was shocked and so angry at myself when I returned to the addictive behavior.

Cutting became an addiction as well. I started to do it whenever I felt upset.

I wish I could go back to 16-year-old me and tell me that I was normal, that I was okay, that I did need to overcome my problem, but my problem did not make me evil, and that I needn't assume punishing responsibility. I wish I could go tell her that she is beautiful, that her worth is fixed, and unalterable by her behavior or thoughts, that she is not defined by this one choice. I wish I could free her from her self-imposed depression. I chose depression because I felt like I deserved it.

I wanted to die. Suicide was always in the back of my mind. But I knew that if I died, I wouldn't be dead. I would still exist somewhere else, and I would still have to live with myself. I only wanted to cease existing, and I knew that death would not make that possible. I also felt I deserved to live with the @#!*% I created for myself.

I was so wrong.

I abstained for a whole year from age 17 to 18. That was the best year of my teen life. I was so happy. I was active and strong and liked and busy. But I allowed addiction to return when I was 18, and there it reigned until today. I got married and thought my addiction was under control, but, really, it was just manifesting in new ways.

And then one day I found my husband's pornography. It was on an untitled VHS tape, and I thought it was home movies or something. But it was pornography. I was disgusted! I shut it off immediately. It repulsed me. I wanted to vomit. I was shaking and angry and betrayed. I found another pornographic video a bit later. This time, I watched a little longer as curiosity took over. Then I couldn't handle it anymore and shut it off.

Shortly after that, we were divorced (but not because of pornography).

Shortly after our separation, I returned to that familiar addiction. The temptations were stronger than ever before. I kept thinking about the videos I had found in my marriage. I kept wondering about them. And one day, I looked up inappropriate pictures online.

First, stills of scantily clad men and women, then nudity, then videos. It took almost no time at all for the evil fingers of pornography to grip me for good. I hadn't sliced my skin since the day my husband left. My 3 year old daughter had seen the cuts and asked me about them, and I knew I could not be that example for her. Since then, even though I have certainly at times longed for the mysterious release of anxiety that always occurred when I made my own self-inflicted wounds, I have been able to stop myself from doing it. So, after I looked up porn, even though I felt deep, inexplicable shame and guilt for my sins, I had no way to punish myself. I still didn't understand that punishing myself wasn't my responsibility. I still didn't understand that I could be freed instead of punished by using the Atonement.

Years later, many bishops later, lifetimes later, I have learned so much. I still struggle. I still slip sometimes. But I know I am important. I know I matter. I know I will overcome, with the help of my brother, my Savior, my Jesus. I feel like I was a lost sheep in a wolf-infested wilderness, and He came after me. For so long, I turned my back on Him, but He persisted. Finally, I turned to Him, understanding that if I walked at His side, the wolves could not touch me.

While I have been trying to recover since I was 16, I am new at this sobriety stuff. It's only been 8 months since I was able to finally find firm enough ground to walk on. December of 2012 was when I finally began to have longer-term sobriety in my recovery. I have had a few slips in the last 8 months, but for the first time in many years, those slips have not turned into relapses. I have avoided active addiction since last December, which, even though it's not that long, is a miracle. I am happier than I've ever been. The truths I have been learning in this process are precious and beautiful. Recovery is hard work. I have never done anything more difficult. But I have seen the Lord's hand in all of this. He has lifted my load. He has lighted my path. He has rescued me! And He continues to rescue me every day that I wish to be rescued. How I love Him!

My blog details my recovery over the past 3 years. I began the blog anonymously, being bound by shame and fear that I'd be discovered. I called myself "Erin" because Erin means peace, and I desperately wanted peace. I have found it, and I am finding it.

I hope that if you struggle with sexual addictions, you will find hope in my blog, and reassurance that you are not alone, particularly if you are a woman. I hope that if you are simply reading for support, that you will support me and understand that I am like you; struggling with imperfection and trying to do what I know is right.