Why I Don’t Watch Porn No Mo

Why I Don’t Watch Porn No Mo

In my last blog, I listed some ways in which people can face pornography (and other sexual wholeness) issues in their church communities. By no means was it an exhaustive list, but I think those are some of the key areas to start with as a family of believers.

In this blog, I would like to talk about my own life. For those of you who have not read my book The God of My Parents: The Uncensored Account of My Journey to Find Identity, I talk very openly about my sexuality and how it related to my Christian faith. Today I would like to go over a few aspects of my battle with pornography and how it was costly in my life.

I was twelve the first time I saw porn. Nowadays that’s actually a decently old age for a child’s first exposure, whether it’s brought up by intentional searching or by accidental exposure. In my case, it was the latter. A Playboy in my friend’s relative’s home was sitting indiscreetly in the bathroom when I stumbled upon it. After seeing it I looked for more wherever I could find it. A few years later I found it on movie channels like HBO and such, and I never had to search far. Then into adulthood, when I was independent, there were absolutely no hurdles to overcome. It was 24/7 access.

Prov 29:18 (AMP) “Where there is no vision [no revelation of God and His word], the people are unrestrained; but happy and blessed is he who keeps the law [of God].”

From the beginning I knew this was something to be hidden–to be put into the dark and not spoken about. My curiosity about sex was not a sin, but my lack of education on the subject left me vulnerable. That’s not to say that my parents were the only ones in error; even at twelve I was old enough to know that it wasn’t the right path for me. Yet as I grew dependent on pornography I lost the hope that I could ever reveal any of it to my parents or to others in my church.

After years of using porn as my comfort, excitement, adventure, teacher, and so on, my dysfunctional relationship finally ended–about nine years ago. Here are just a few reasons I no longer feel compelled to purchase the premium cable package:

 

  1. It separated me from God. At first this seems like a no-brainer to any believer. “Yeah yeah yeah, your sin separated you from God. What’s new?” But it goes deeper than that. I believed the lie that I had to run away from God and from other believers because of my sin. This is the opposite of what Jesus paid for when he died. Jesus died so that I can go before a loving Father who wants to break the power of the false gods that bind me. I couldn’t get freedom until I went to God with all of my mess and accepted that freedom.
  2. It cost me relationships. To put it simply, if you’re spending your time engaging with pornography, you’re not out with your friends. And when you’re not out with friends living life in a healthy way, you’re feeling more isolated…which leads to more porn use. It’s like eating a box of Krispy Kreme glazed donuts and feeling uncomfortable in your clothes, so you just decide to stay home. (Not that I’ve experienced this personally… *looks awkwardly away*) During times in my life when I could have enjoyed the innocence of my youth I was locked away.  Alone.  Part of breaking away from the systematic use of pornography meant pursuing healthy relationships and getting out of my comfortable sweat pants.
  3. It lied to me about my body. Son of a basket weaver, is this one the truth. I find I’m still dealing with the after effects of this one. Pornography destroys not only your body image, but leaves you hooked on measuring others up to unrealistic standards. It’s sad to see that this has so crept its way into the church. Porn never liberated me in my sexuality as a woman; it destroyed my view of my own body. It had the opposite effect that I first thought it would. It didn’t educate me; it distorted me, because none of it is reality.
  4. It stripped me of my dignity. God designed men and women to be modest, therefore everyone is called to modesty. Being modest means to “limit,” which involves both how we interact with and present ourselves to each other. Before you call me a “Duggar” let me explain more. If you are married, or intending to be married, modesty in this context is never coupled without the final goal of passion. Modesty is to protect mystery. We are made to discover and uncover this mystery. Why is it that in movies there’s something gratifying about a prudish or uber-professional character letting loose? Why do you think that is? Because there’s something in us that values an unbridled unveiling–something that’s hidden away in tension, then revealed in a passionate way. That’s why sex is so sacred in the Bible. It was created to be sacrificed for, set aside for, and at the right time passionately revealed to one spouse. If you are celibate for a season or feel called to remain celibate for the sake of ministry, then modesty protects you as well. When you watch oodles of pornography there is no dignity. Nothing is protected and limited. Everything is for everyone to take of as they please. It demeans you and also those involved in producing it.

———————————————————————————————————

Liz Flaherty lives in South Carolina with her husband Andy. They’ve been married since 2005, and have spent the majority of their marriage ministering to and mentoring people in areas of sexual wholeness and identity. In her book, The God of My Parents, Liz shares her powerful testimony in which she faced immense grief, rejection, drug abuse, pornography, and homosexuality. Her heart is to inspire the Christian community to address these issues with love, respect and honesty.

Liz and Andy have two cats, named Paddie and Ginger.

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.