How Pornography has Affected the way I View Women

Whenever I'd hear people (men) say that pornography made them think of women, in general, as objects, I'd basically ignore the comment or judge it as ridiculous. As if I have room to judge, EVER! It made no sense to me that men would allow anything to turn women in general into objects, please! I thought they were pretty low for thinking that. I figured that I had done an excellent job of separating women and objects, though readily admitted that while I was viewing pornography, the women and men were objects for me. Also, on occasion, I would make an object of a man I was making out with. However, outside of porn or lust? No. Humans. Men and women were humans, souls, and I never objectified them when I wasn't in the addiction zone. I shook my head at such comments, when I'd hear how pornography actually changed how these men saw women in general. Oh, they were repentant, and they didn't like it about themselves, and that was pretty good, but I just couldn't see how they didn't see face to face women immediately and only as human beings.

You guys, this is a pretty heavy confession I'm about to make. This has been on my mind a few days and I feel I need to write about it here. So, here, I write about it.

I was driving the other day, through my neighborhood. I saw a woman. She was jogging, and she was wearing jogging clothing- tight and form revealing. My first impulse, as it always is, was to notice her body, and by "notice-" let's get real, here- I mean objectify. My first impulse, as it always is, was to find something on her that would ignite something in me, something inappropriate, something lustful. And, as I almost always do, I immediately looked away, reminded myself she is a beautiful daughter of God with a soul. and a life, and I reminded myself to love her. This part of the event is normal for me. This part happens several times a week if not several times a day. I notice a woman, I seek to lust, I change my thoughts, I seek to love, I go on. The part I'm about to tell you, however, is new. The new part is the part where I realized that my first impulse upon seeing that woman jogging the other day was to lust. Immediately following that realization was the understanding that I almost always react in that exact same way.

There is something I want to clear up at this point. When I say my impulse was lust, I do not mean to say that I had any sexual desires toward these women. This feels very difficult to explain, but I'm going to try. I'm trying to talk myself into just saying it like it is because even though I will be judged, I also may be able to help someone. So. Here we go- open and real and explanatory. I have never thought of myself as having Same Sex Attraction. I haven't wanted to romantically be with a woman emotionally or spiritually or permanently, ever. I'm grateful that SSA hasn't been among my trials of this life, and I've often said that our brothers and sisters who do so struggle are the strongest and best among us, but I never considered myself one of them. Indeed, I am not. So, why, then, was I having to use reason and prayer and extra love to dismiss the lust I felt when looking at women jogging, or women with revealed cleavage, or women with short skirts?

I wasn't having any sort of sexual identity crisis here, but I recognized then that what I was feeling about these women, initially, was lust. Well, perhaps "lustful" is a better term. I was seeking to be aroused.

When I look at men, I do not seek to be aroused. I'll come back to that later.

Recently, I read this excellent article about lust. It's by Andrew over at Rowboats and Marbles, and I encourage you to click here to read the article. I didn't agree with everything, but it sure opened my eyes to what lust really is, and I related quite well with his assertions about how women participate in pornography vs how men do. At first, I was insulted that he was separating men and women like that, but, for me, he's actually right. Women, he says, are more likely to seek to be lusted after, while men seek to lust. This is why women are more likely to find pornography in text- like romance novels- while men are more likely to find it in pictures and videos. It's easier to put yourself in the position of someone being lusted after while you're reading, and easier to lust while you're viewing. Now, I get bored by reading because it's not fast enough, but I can tell you that when I view pornography, I'm following that model of vicariously being lusted after. And that's what I was doing all the years I was looking at pornography.

I do not think one is any better than the other. It is no better to seek to be lusted after than it is to lust. It's all objectifying, it's all sinful, it's all dangerous, it's all disrespectful.

When I look at women lustfully, it's another extension of the place I put myself into when viewing pornography. It's almost like I'm lusting in order to be vicariously lusted after. (If you can make sense of that, good for you.) It's almost like I'm putting myself in a position to be lusted after, by me. And that's insane. I'm turning women in general into objects, and so I'm an object too, because I'm a woman, and I am an object unto my own self.

Before pornography, I'm nearly certain that I didn't see a jogging woman and instantly become lustful. Pornography has most assuredly changed how I view women. Pornography has most assuredly affected my ability to love all humans, women, myself. Pornography has reinforced to me that women are only good for sex, and so I want to be lusted after, so that I can fulfill my role. Pornography has taught me that women are worth more when they are more willing to do deviant things with their partner(s). Pornography has destroyed my mind so much that the first thing I think of when I see a woman with few or tight clothes is sex or something sexual. I am the people I complain about! I am the people I shake my head at when I say, "women should be able to wear whatever they want and not be objectified!" I am the people I condemn when I say "if someone has inappropriate thoughts when they see a woman in a bikini, that's not the woman's fault- that's theirs." I believe all those things. I believe that a woman ought to be able to walk around in a miniskirt and a halter top and be safe from horny, impulsive, disrespectful men, and not be held responsible if a man assaults her physically or verbally. But, I am the one who thinks those lustful thoughts. What is this?! How has this truth about myself escaped me for so long?! I know the antidote, though. It's love. When I love someone, I cannot have any feelings of lust toward them. Therefore, my wonderful friends who are reading this, rest assured that I do not think of you lustfully, because I love you. Besides, when I am near women, speaking to them, I do a good job of seeing them as actual women. Rarely, during a face to face conversation with anyone, do my thoughts turn to lust.

Pornography has broken my mind so that I have to reason with myself in order to view women appropriately. Pornography has reinforced to me that I am only good for sex. And, no wonder, then. No wonder I felt perfectly comfortable making out with perfect strangers during perfect storms of loneliness and self-loathing. No wonder I participated in so many online lust-filled conversations with men I never met. I believed what porn reinforced: that my purpose was sex.

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Right now, I see myself at my computer desk, five years ago, my eyes giddily waiting for Mark's response. Mark was intelligent, attractive, rich, sexy, and he was lusting after me, and I was lapping it up like a kitten at catnip-flavored milk. Suddenly, his reply appears in the chat box. It was exactly what I'd hoped for, and I lustfully respond. Back and forth we go, till it crosses a boundary, and I get angry at him and tell him off-- till the next time. I want to go to that lost, sad woman. I want to tell her she is worth more than anything Mark could ever offer, and that Mark was worth more than everything I was offering him. I want to hold her and rock her and give her the love she was missing, the love she was actually seeking, and tell her that Mark's conversation with her would only leave her empty and wanting. I want to go to her now, and turn off the computer, delete Mark's contact info, block him and all the other men I stored on my computer screen, and tell her it's all a lie, that she's worth far, far more than merely sex, that her purpose is grander, and her identity infinitely more majestic. 

Pornography hasn't only affected my view of women, but also of men. Part of me believes the lie that men, in general, are sexually aggressive and abusive. Oh, I hope you haven't seen what I have seen in pornography, but the men are aggressive and abusive, for the most part. They are not the ones being lusted after.They are the ones for whom I must be lustworthy. Because of pornography, I assume that most men are looking around at most women lustfully, undressing us with their eyes basically all the time. Oh, how untrue this is, how unfair it is for me to hold men to this level of crudeness. I don't feel lustful toward men because they're the ones that are "supposed" to lust. I don't seek to be aroused when I look at men, because pornography taught me that women are supposed to be doing the arousing.

I'm not saying pornography is to blame, because I'm the one who chose pornography. I am saying that I have a broken view of men and women- a view that I can intellectually dispute any day, any hour, but I have a lot of heart-unlearning to do- because of my participation in pornography, and I really really really really hate that. Pornography is powerful, evil, and Satan's biggest game piece right now. Pornography is the greatest counterfeit of all time.

Oh, but because of Jesus, we can always, always hope. Step 2 of the Addiction Recovery Program is Hope: "Come to believe that the power of God can restore you to complete spiritual health." I believe this with my whole heart, and I believe He can and will restore me to a proper and righteous view of men and women, and that someday, I will see a jogging woman and see nothing else but a beautiful woman who is jogging. I feel like the more I learn about addiction and pornography, and about myself, my God, and Satan, the more I realize I don't know. I have a lot of learning and un-learning to do, but I have a God Who is willing to help me learn and un-learn it, and who wants to restore me to complete spiritual health.

God help me. God, heal this broken mind!

In Your Face, Marsha!

As you may recall, I named my "addict" Marsha. She came over to play today.

I want to document this victory for my own self. I actually sort of doubt it will be very helpful to anyone else, but just in case, I share.

I've been single nearly 8 years. I dated a fellow about 3 years ago for about 3 weeks, but other than that, nothing remotely serious has happened since my divorce. Needless to say, I get very lonely sometimes. I long for the companionship of a worthy, kind man. Sometimes the longing is unbearable.

I've made some very risky, very bad choices with men since my divorce. I've kissed more men after my marriage than before. I have been unable to resist when a kiss becomes an option.

It always feels like kissing will mean I'm loved. It always feels like being sexually desired by someone will mean I'm important.

Only, today I know better.

Knowing better is hard. Knowing better bears with it an annoying responsibility. Knowing better is ultimately freedom.

The security guard at work thinks I'm cute. "I see you come in," he said the other day, "and I think you're so cute. I'm . . . I'm not very good at this. I hope I'm not being creepy. But I'd like to get to know you better. So . . . here's my number, and you can text me. If you want."

It made my day. Me? Cute? HECK YES! YES YES YES! A MAN THINKS I'M CUTE!

Naturally, I texted him a few hours later, on my first break.

We chatted a little about relatively normal stuff. We discovered we have a 7 year age difference; he being younger. He thought I was 25! YES YES YES! I'll be 34 next month, so, that was fun. He said he would like to still get to know me. Okay.

Eventually, today, he invited me to see a movie at his house. He said something about "snuggling" and getting to know me better.

Marsha exploded into 40 Marshas doing cartwheels in my head and chest, shouting for joy and glory. The Marshas painted this wonderful picture of cuddling and making out and . . . the game. I was planning a game before I consciously realized it. I would lead him on. I would let him think I was as into him as he seemed to be me, and I would have a manfriend who would hold me and kiss me. Just for a while! Just till I was tired. I knew I could get him to kiss me. I could probably have someone to kiss this very weekend. Easily. I was planning. Plotting. Conniving.

Justifying. Rationalizing. Salivating. I wanted it. So much. I wanted to lean against him while watching a movie. I wanted to stop watching the movie. I imagined what it would be like. I imagined some of the innocent-but-not-really things we might do. So delightful! So nice!

It would be alright. I haven't even kissed a man in over a year. It's high time! It's not like I'm going to sleep with him.

Marsha was thrilled. Finally! Another kiss! For me! I'm important!

Oh, dear. I am so broken. I am so broken because it really does truly really feel like being in the arms of a man, and being kissed by a man, is the same thing as having worth. But, as I said, I know better. So when the Marshas kept on screaming at me that this was the best choice- to plan and conspire and lead Security Guard along till I was ready to discard him, or at least just for one night enjoy his physical presence- I actually heard their lies as lies. I was actually able to envision the truth. If I go to his house and watch a movie, I will kiss him. And, instead of that being incredibly exciting, it's dangerous. I know me! I know I will get carried away at the first opportunity! I know I will shut off my mind and throw my judgment out the car window on the way to his place. I know I will not be able to think right. I know I will make choices that I will deeply regret in the future.

[This future thinking stuff is so foreign. It feels amazing and terrifying.]

Then I thought about my children. I thought about my temple recommend. I even thought about my reputation! I thought about him and his worth, and I thought he deserved respect. I remembered that my body is a masterpiece. I thought about my Jesus.

I considered my options, friends! This is something rational people do! I considered the amazing moments I could share with the security guard. I considered how I greatly miss physical affection. I considered how I greatly long to be important to a man, and here was a chance to feel that. I considered everything I have learned over the course of recovery. I considered that what I really want is something he can't provide me, and that what I really want can't be found in superficial affection.

It became apparent that I would make the right choice, and I had a period of grieving. It's not fair. It's not! It's not fair that I have to steel my lips and hands and heart till someone who will honor them comes along, when that someone may never ever come along. It's not fair that if I honor myself, I must respect myself and others, and not use my body as a plaything. It's not fair that I have to be single and alone and lonely. It's hard to say no- it is so hard to say no- but I understand that I must say no because I know better.

And so, I told him I'm on a journey of no sexual contact, not even kissing, for the foreseeable future, but that I hoped we could still be friends. He said sure, and asked why would I do such a journey?

I will show you what I told him.

And, dude. I'm so proud of myself. I feel powerful, like I can do anything I need to do. And, the love that I feel like I need from men when I behave recklessly, I gave it to myself. And it actually filled some of the holes that making out with men never fills.

This is a huge mark of progress. It's a huge indicator of the healing that I have done. I'm so thankful to my Savior for healing me. Look! Look at this! I stopped a disaster before it happened! I saved myself from profound regret, which is never worth the pleasure! I chose to keep my temple recommend, and to be worthy of the Sacrament on Sunday! I chose my kids, I chose my heart, I chose my God.