Every Day a Battle
First, I am relieved to know I am not the only one struggling with this addiction. For so long, I thought I was the only one.
I’m not sure where my addiction to masturbating and premarital sex began, though I know it was at an early age (around 7 years). I remember experimenting with other children. At that time, it was strictly “on top of the clothes” type stuff, but it was still shameful/sinful. I was intrigued by the images I saw on the television. It seemed that love was sex and sex was love. Sex was pleasure.
I was always the proud one—proud of my virginity and my decision to remain so until marriage. I wanted to be pure for my future spouse. For 19 years, I kept to that promise. I didn’t have intercourse. But, I continued masturbating. I would fantasize at first about boys my age, then about my teachers or other older men, and eventually about women and groups. It was an irresistable force in my life.
I had always had a poor self image. I’ve always been on the heavy side and have been made fun of a lot. When I turned 16 and got my license, I began visiting an old friend. She was already a mother. She started introducing me to these men. These men, who, to my surprise, were actually “attracted” to me. After the first, there were many. I had several men trying to “get with me”. It was exciting.
She hooked me up with Sam—her boyfriend’s best friend. That’s how it all started. I had never been kissed till that point. I remember that he put his hand on my knee at one point in the evening and I freaked out. That led to kissing and necking. That was only the beginning.
I didn’t have intercourse for a couple years after that. Kissing was the main thing. “Making out”. I remember one incident where the guy I was seeing and I made out in the middle of the road directly in front of his house for hours. I came home with 2 hickies on the front of my neck. I had a “sore throat” for a month. I was so ashamed to be around my family and others, that I avoided contact as much as possible.
Four months after my 19th birthday, I lost my virginity. Not to a man who loved me or pretended to and not even to a man I loved. Actually, I despised him. But, for some reason, I got in the car with him that night. That entire evening was so messed up. I remember the confusion and conviction I felt the entire 30 minutes from my driveway to his. He said not one word to me the entire way. I remember asking him to drop me off at a friends a couple miles from my house and not getting a response. As we passed her house, I actually considered jumping from the car.
I was so nervous I was sick. I knew I shouldn’t be there. I didn’t want this man. He came out of the bathroom stark naked. I was fully dressed. He started messin’ with me. Out of curiosity, I let him. But, when he entered me, I got scared. I made him stop. He made fun of me. He called me a “daddy’s girl” and a “tease” among others. He threatened me—told me he would get what he wanted whether I was willing or not. He finally did (against my will)—not once looking at me or saying a word. When it was over, I cried till I fell asleep. Two hours later (at 4am) he took me home. I called off work and stayed in my bedroom for almost a week. All I did was cry. I couldn’t face this guy and everyone else at work.
Prior and during this incident, I was speaking to a man I met on the Internet. He was always so sweet. We told each other, “I love you” from the start. I actually convinced myself that we were both being real. About 3 weeks after I lost my virginity, I slept with him. He loved me, right? WRONG! It was all an illusion—or, should I say, delusion?
After that, I felt like it didn’t matter anymore. I was already unpure. I couldn’t get my virginity back now. And, to make matters worse, all these men “wanted” me and that was addicting. I would know it was just sex (no matter how many times they confessed their love and devotion), but would convince myself otherwise. I gave up so much of myself—physically, emotionally, spiritually—to those men. Sadly to say, 19 in all.
I remember, a few short weeks prior to my loss, my youth pastor had a heart to heart with the girls. She confessed of her promiscuity during her youth. I remember so well her tears and that I cried with her. Still, seeing the pain sex had caused her, I had to find out for myself.
Two (nearly 3) years later, I have lost so much and have nothing to show for it. I have contracted HPV—which is incurable. It can cause cervical cancer or infertility. My biggest fear now is to never have children of my own. Still, I know my actions have consequence. I am now 116 days abstinent. I’m trying to use my experience to help others. I’m trying to forgive myself. It’s an every day battle. I know that God has a plan for my life and I’m putting my trust in Him.
Still, every day is a battle. I still deal with the temptation of masturbation, cyber sex, phone sex, and intercourse. I still have to ask God to take charge of my mind and body. I’m still so ashamed. I’ve never told anyone about masturbating. This is my first step towards healing of that.
Dear women, please keep me in your prayers, as you’ll be in mine. And thank you for your confessions… it made it easier for me… to know that I’m not alone.