Mark’s Story: Hope and Healing from Sexual Addiction

What it was like

I was born in Kentucky on December 7th, 1986. It was the year they say the backbone of the Internet was established in the U.S., and while the experts chased that dream, which would define their careers, I had no idea how much this innovation would impact my life and so many others. 

Although I was born into a home with its share of issues, including alcoholism—my early childhood was pretty happy. I remember running around the neighborhood with friends, getting lost in the snow drifts by our little brick house, summer yard sales where everyone joined in, decorating the Christmas tree with my mom and sister, and catching Kentucky basketball games on TV with my dad. But, at age 7, when my parents divorced, the trajectory of my story began changing in ways that I could not have foreseen.

We moved from the first home I truly remembered to a duplex in a new area, leaving behind the place where my earliest memories were made. That was the first of six moves over the next decade and it was at this point when my feelings of loneliness and uncertainty intensified.

My mom juggled several jobs to take care of me and my sister. This meant I had lots of time alone. My memories of being by myself in that empty apartment are colored in gray. The silence was gut-wrenching. At times, I felt invisible. I realized how messed up things were, that life was hard, and I began looking for comfort anywhere I could find it. 

At a sleepover when I was 10, I was handed a porn magazine with the simple instruction: “look at this!”, and I thought I’d struck gold. The relentless pursuit for more of that became my obsession, my new best friend, for the next two decades.

It wasn’t long before I was at home on the computer looking for more. As a confused and vulnerable kid, internet porn made me feel like I was wanted and in control, but in reality, I was losing control with every image and video I saw. I had no idea that I was feeding a monster.

At 13, mom remarried and we moved to Tennessee. For many reasons, the summer we moved was rough. We were merging families and trying to adjust to a brand new life on the fly. At the same time, although I didn’t have the words for it, I was already a sex addict which intensified in the next season of life.

I turned to porn and masturbation as often as I could. I was consumed with fantasy and continued to push the boundaries in unwanted behaviors. I was a complete mess and doing my best to pretend I was fine. By the end of that first summer in Tennessee, I asked to move back to Kentucky. From that point on, my behaviors and inner world deteriorated.

At 14 was first time I ever went to church on my own free will. It was the beginning of a three month journey to meeting Jesus. But, I couldn't stop acting out sexually. I thought becoming a Christian would change everything, but I was still turning to porn. So, like any good Christian would do, I prayed and prayed. Nothing changed. This cycle deepened my feelings of shame and fueled my secrecy.

I couldn't understand why God wouldn't take my sin problem away. Did God love me? Was I really saved? Was God even real? I'm supposed to be a new creation, so why can't I act like one?

This cycle of behaviors continued throughout high school, and I began to despise myself for who I had become. I hoped that one day I would be able to change, but doubted if it would ever happen.

As a sophomore in college, I met my wife, Laura. She was my dream, and I naively thought that marrying a beautiful Christian woman and aiming for a career in Christian ministry would fix my unwanted sexual behaviors. Somehow, I thought I would just grow out of it. That only shows how little I understood about what was actually going on inside of me. In reality, it just made me a bigger liar and a total hypocrite.

As my disease progressed, I felt isolated from everyone around me. For the first ten years of my marriage to Laura, no matter where we lived or worked, my addiction followed. I became sicker, and my beautiful Laura grew tired, weary, and angry. 

I attended seminary, and my addiction continued.

We worked at churches and faith-based organizations, and I only got worse. 

I began seeing therapists and attending inner-healing prayer sessions, small steps forward followed by utter collapse. 

I could never stay sober for more than three months at a time. Even that was through complete will power, and I was always bitter. 

No matter how many times Laura discovered I was still acting out, and no matter how often I promised to change, I wasn't willing to do whatever it took to get better. I didn’t want to fight. I hated myself. I resented everyone. I felt hopeless. And, for some inexplicable reason, I still loved my drug. Insanity.

What Happened

Everything changed in March of 2018 when Laura discovered me again, this time after years of leading her to believe that I was sober. My secret life online, all of it, was exposed. Years of lying, sneaking around, and gas-lighting had caught up to me in what felt like a nuclear flash. This was our D-Day. This was the beginning of a painful, but redemptive, new journey. Life was flipped upside down, so we did the only thing we knew to do—fell into God’s arms.

It was there we found safety and the power to carry on one day at a time. I learned in those restless days what it means to depend on God for everything. I knew I had nothing without Him. I was given what some call “the gift of desperation.” God had crushed the delusion that I would wield enough power to stop acting out. Life was completely unmanageable. So, I took a few, uncomfortable steps.

I took a job landscaping, which turned out to be a tremendous gift from God. I was grounded, literally and figuratively. There is much to be learned in the dirt. I needed to return to simple, honest work. I needed to sweat, bleed, and ache. Every day was a lesson in humility and willingness.

I also joined a weekly treatment program that included individual and group therapy. This helped me peel back the layers of my sickness. I started to understand addiction and compulsivity. I also realized how much harm I had done. But, I still felt powerless over lust and fantasy. I still longed for my “best friend”. I did not understand how I could want to return to the behaviors that had caused so much pain and loss. Crazy.

At the same, Laura and I transitioned to a new church family and invited new friends into our difficult story. It was unbelievable how much love and care we received from these precious friends and spiritual leaders.

I had lived so long believing the lie that no one could ever know what I was thinking or doing. My sin was too great, too shameful. As it turns out, my worst failures had to be forced into the light for me to find the courage to remain in the light. My fear of being rejected was bombarded with love and acceptance from those who knew me best, and from strangers who were getting to know me for the first time.

Life became necessarily simple—Hard work. Sore feet. Tearful conversations. Humble prayers. Caring friends. Loving family. Beloved wife. Tender God.

Even though porn was completely out of reach, the obsession of lust was still at work. Porn had never been the real problem—it was just one outlet for something far deeper. Stripped of my usual escape, I still felt just as out of control. Lust, like a relentless force, was searching for a new way to manifest, to pull me under. The craving was insatiable. In that moment, I could no longer deny the truth: I wasn’t just someone who “struggled” with lust—I was addicted to it in all its forms. It was clear that willpower wasn’t enough. I needed a new approach. I had to surrender.

Laura said something to me that set a new tone for me and our relationship. Calmly and clearly, she said, "I need you to know I'm not getting any younger. I’ve decided to stay in this marriage and fight for you. I need to know you'll fight for me, because if you're not, I need you to release me and let me move on."

Laura’s simple statement was a touchstone moment. Somehow, over the course of time, God had prepared my heart to receive her honest plea, and that was the turning point in my attitude toward recovery. It was my time to stand up and take decisive action for Laura, for our marriage, and for myself.

I didn’t waste any time. I met with a Certified Sex Addiction Therapist for the first time. He suggested I go to Sexaholics Anonymous and find a sponsor immediately. I knew I had to listen to wisdom no matter what, so I did exactly what he said. On June 13, 2022, I found myself at my first SA meeting. I shared my story with two sober men, and asked one of them to be my sponsor that same night. I immediately got to work on the 12 steps and I’ve been sexually sober from all forms of acting out and obsessive lustful thinking every since.

For once, I felt like I'd finally found a place where I truly fit in, could let my whole self be seen, and I was desperate enough to do whatever it took to get well. I started going to SA meetings 5 or 6 times a week, making new connections with other recovering addicts, working through the twelve steps with my sponsor, and taking positive, loving actions every day. I also began opening up to Laura about my thoughts and feelings every day, instead of keeping them buried. I had to show her that I was committed to being proactive, not just reacting. It felt amazing to live fully engaged, without getting caught up in porn and fantasies. I was starting to open up and let others see the real me. Every step of the way, I was met with acceptance, and the courage to continue. 

What It’s Like Now

Today, I am a husband learning to lead his wife like Jesus would. I am more connected to people—family, church, recovery—than I’ve ever been. I live with a clear conscience and a clear mind. I feel at peace within myself and can find contentment in almost every situation. I am learning from my mistakes, rather than repeating them. I have completed the 12-steps and continue to live them out every day. I am accountable to God, myself, my wife, my sponsor, and my friends in recovery. I sponsor other men in recovery and share my story, hoping to inspire them to find the same freedom that I have found.

But this journey is not easy. It requires a lot of hard work and discomfort. I have to be intentional about changing my thoughts, actions, and habits. I have to confront uncomfortable emotions and face difficult truths about myself. Most importantly, I have to let go of my pride and humbly surrender control to God. It is worth every second of discomfort, because now I can truly say that I am living life on purpose. No longer controlled by addiction or destructive behaviors, but actively choosing how I want to live each day. And let me tell you, there is no greater feeling than being proactive in my own life and seeing the positive results that come from it.

Laura and I are looking ahead and embracing the idea that God wants us to own our story and leverage it to help others. I try not to trouble myself with where I want to be, or think I should be, in the future. For me, serenity comes from accepting that God knows, and that means I don’t need to.

My job is to simply trust Him with each day as it comes. If I can maintain an attitude of willingness to serve others, share my experience, strength, and hope, and offer hospitality to those around me, then I am on the right track.

With that said, when I look ahead to the next 5 years, I imagine a life of connection.

I see us more deeply rooted in God’s love and following the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

I imagine us praying together in the morning on our front porch and trusting God with every moment of every day.

I see us living in union with God and each other which fills me with an abiding sense of peace and contentment.

I see us communing with new and old friends on a daily basis, living with intentionality, vulnerability, and having fun!

I see us restored to our family relationships and delighting in the fruitfulness of our big extended family without fear, resentment, or shame.

I see us tethered to the recovery community where we continue to get help and give help, establishing soul-friendships with others who are on the redemptive journey. 

I also imagine a life of vocation. I see Laura and I leaning into our redemptive story, yielding as instruments in God’s hands to offer hope, wisdom, and guidance to other individuals and couples who are trudging through their own pain and addictions. I see us working together as mentors and ministers of the Gospel, living in service to God and others. To me, that picture feels joyful, a little scary, and good.

Lastly, I imagine a life of redemption. I see myself free from the raging compulsion to act out my addictive behaviors, and instead free to choose to live in surrender to power and care of God. I see myself refusing to be isolated and alone. I see myself willing to be inconvenienced for the sake of service to God and others. I see myself enjoying friendships that last, thriving in the ministry of mentorship, treating Laura like a queen, and basking in the light.