My Breakup Letter to Porn
An end to eighteen years of toxicity and abuse.
Porn,
I’ve waited a long time to write you this letter.
I guess I didn’t want it to read like an empty promise. Or maybe I was just scared that, if I revealed my intentions too soon, you would somehow find a way to draw me back toward you.
Be that as it may, the time has come now. I’m finally ready to stand up to you and make it official.
We’re done.
This is it.
Fold these words and hold on to them — they’ll be the last you ever get from me.
It’s funny, the tricks that the mind likes to play.
Here I am, ending eighteen years of suffering with this letter, yet I find myself grasping for something nice to say about you. As if my mind is trying to give this a positive spin, to end it on a good note after all.
I guess it’s some sort of defense mechanism. A way to whitewash you from my past to help me transition into the future. And I get it. How could I move on, if I had to carry with me all the hurt that you’ve caused me through the years?
So, instead, my mind takes me to the good moments.
To the excitement of our first few times together. To the spectacular world you opened up for me, and how you let me explore it freely and without judgment. To everything that you taught me about sex, good and bad, at a time when everybody else would rather keep me in the dark.
I can’t help but be reminded of the sense of comfort I felt back then, every time I was with you. Of the shelter you gave me to hide from myself and everybody else, and your unique ability to help me forget about my problems. Of your seemingly unconditional love, at a time when I felt I didn’t deserve any.
And yet, even our best memories together can’t come close to eclipsing all the pain that came along with them. My mind might try to ignore it, but that pain has always been there, hanging over me like the sword of Damocles.
The truth is, I hate you with all my heart.
I hate all the nights we spent together until five or six in the morning. The way those sessions hurt my body and destroyed my libido. The disgusting things that you would show me. All the time that we wasted.
I hate the power that you’ve always had over me. How sad and pathetic you would make me feel. The way you took advantage of me at my weakest, and how you isolated me from my friends and family.
I hate you for holding me back. For keeping me away from real sex for as long as you could, then sabotaging me as soon as I finally had my chance. For everything that you contributed through the years to turn my sex life into an uphill battle.
I hated you when I was desperately addicted. I hated you while I was trying to recover, but kept relapsing. And I hate you now even after all the progress I’ve made.
Most of all, I hate hating you.
I wish all I felt for you was indifference. I wish you were just a tool, a release, or a distraction at worst, like you are for so many others. And I wish there were no hard feelings between us.
That day will come, I know…I’m just not there yet.
Deep wounds take time to heal.
What’s one supposed to say when a relationship of eighteen years ends?
Hell if I know.
I’m sure there’s a mature way to go about this, but so far I’ve just managed to dump a swirl of confused feelings on this letter.
Maybe the right thing for me to do is to take responsibility. Maybe I should have led with that good old, “It’s me and not you.” And who knows, maybe there’s some truth in that as well.
They say an addict is just an addict, and what makes us different from each other is the poison that we pick. If that’s the case, then I guess that, had you not been there, I would have remained an addict all the same, only with a different partner.
If there’s anything I’ve learned through all these years with you is that playing the blame game is a sure way to get yourself into a toxic relationship. For a long time, I saw myself as the victim of your abuse. An innocent boy who inadvertently fell into your evil clutches. The enabler in this codependent relationship of ours. But who’s to say I wasn’t the abuser? After all, wouldn’t I use you for hours on end? Didn’t I burden you with my problems, demand you to solve them for me, then blame you for them when you didn’t?
I suspect the truth lies somewhere in between, as it usually does. In the gray area that acknowledges the potential you have to cause harm, without shirking responsibility for the part I played in it.
Ultimately, I know I can’t fix your flaws nor change who you are, but I can definitely own up to mine and change myself. I must, if I want to move on.
Breaking up with you takes a second, but I know that getting over you will only come after a long time of hard work.
Goodbye forever, porn.
I know you won’t miss me any more than I’ll miss you.
Sincerely,
James
What’s in your math folder?
Are you ready to break up with porn?
An addict’s relationship with porn is emotionally complex, and ending it takes more than just a firm resolution.
Unpacking your feelings towards porn helps you understand the nature of this relationship better, and paves the way for a more effective and much healthier breakup.
Share your insights in the comments below, on social media, or in your favorite porn addiction community, and if you know others that are struggling with porn, help them by sharing a link to this story.
Let’s start a conversation!
Hi, this is James! Thank you for reading!
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