Why I Care so Deeply About the Myth of Porn & Sex Addiction

This is not a blog for the innocent of mind, my family members, or anyone I’m close to that isn’t willing to be at least slightly scarred by reading the gory details of my sex life, porn habits and masturbation tales. Read at your own risk. This WAS written for everyone who has worried about their own porn, sex or masturbation habits or ever had the inkling that addiction was to blame. I also talk about my assault, in as little detail as possible.

This is my story.  

I was assaulted 

I was 13 or 14, he was 16. He threatened my life, he threatened my family, he told me he would rape me and torture everyone I knew right in front of me. He told me he would rape me until I gave birth to a boy that he could raise to be just like him. But I thought he was joking? Why the fuck would I think any of that was a joke, or even something that was semi okay to joke about? I still felt like I couldn’t say no; that sex and pleasure was my obligation to him as a woman and my job was to say yes and ask for more. It felt good even though I was scared. That still haunts me.  

Discovering Porn & the Summer of Orgasms 

At some point when I was 14, I moved in with my dad, had a laptop, a lock on my door and a lot of free time one summer. I discovered porn, I discovered kink, I discovered videos that probably weren’t ethical in any sense of the word. I discovered my deep “obsession” with consensual non-consent, older men, group sex, gay sex, and more. I would spend literal hours this summer locked in my bedroom watching hours of videos, spending SO long searching for the right videos, using objects that weren’t meant to be inside of me, inside of me, having orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Sometimes I would bleed, sometimes I would be so sore and raw that it hurt to masturbate. I don’t think any of those ever stopped me. Maybe it was here that I learned to have a high pain tolerance during sex? That sex could hurt and feel good at the same time? Occasionally the videos I would watch would stick in my brain for weeks after, almost like a good horror movie. I was completely disturbed by some of the things I watched when I wasn’t turned on and yet it often felt like I needed this ‘level’ of intensity to reach orgasm. It felt like I would start with less violent videos and slowly amp up until I was ready to orgasm, and this would go on for hours usually. Differing from the way a lot of others talk about “violent” porn, I use that word to mean what seemed like actual violence- what seemed like women being brutalized, not pleasured, not enjoying it, not wanting it. BDSM was great, in my mind, but I liked the videos that eventually got to the point where it didn’t seem she liked it anymore... And then I would orgasm, close the laptop for a little while, and be absolutely disgusted with myself. This waned when the summer ended and school started again. I didn’t feel like I needed to detox from porn or masturbation, or like I was going through withdrawals. But for almost my entire high school career, and middle school actually, I sexualized everyone I could possibly imagine myself having sex with. Teachers, students, didn’t really matter. I fantasized about seducing my teachers and fucking them after school or between classes. I fantasized about what everyone's dick might look like, how long it might be, what they might want to do with it and what I would be willing to do with it. Which was nearly everything and anything. I felt like I was near constantly horny, wet and ready. My vulva would be on fire and it wasn’t unlike me to be totally distracted and unable to focus. Despite that I absolutely pushed through and managed to pass all of my classes. 

Unfaithful, Kind of from the Beginning 

My relationships were bizarre... I was definitely drawn towards men who wouldn’t exactly treat me kindly or had their own issues with anger or jealousy. Though for the most part it wasn’t really obscene with mistreatment. I always felt the need to have another boyfriend lined up before I dumped one, sometimes claiming that the last boyfriend treated me so unfairly that I needed saving. I was 15 when I started dating “Drew” (that’s not his name). He knew I had been assaulted, he knew I had some issues, I knew he had his. We planned on waiting to have sex until we graduated and moved in together. Despite my crazy porn and masturbation habits, and sexualizing everyone I could see, I knew I had too much trauma and triggers to have sex yet... Or so I thought? It was maybe a month before I turned 16 that we first had vaginal intercourse because, of course, oral and anal sex didn’t actually count. And then I cheated on him. So, I started dating “Toby” (nope, not his name). We had sex very early in our relationship. I didn’t feel like I was good enough for him. So, I figured if I could offer him endless pleasure that he would love me forever and stay with me and be good to me and take care of me. Except that we never used condoms and I thought I was pregnant just a month or two into our relationship, and he said he wouldn’t stay with me if I was so I left him... and then got my period just minutes after ending that relationship. Flash forward to 17, God knows what happened in between, I was dating the hottest guy I could imagine. At first, I hated him, and then I kind of liked him, and then I thought he was hot and I really, really wanted to fuck him. So, I did and we dated and I asked him to do a lot of things to me that I didn’t actually like, want, enjoy and they actually triggered me so deeply that I became afraid of him. Well, honestly, I started doing this a few years ago with Drew too. Just not as severe. 

A Complete and Utter Lack of Boundaries 

Between 15 and 23 my boundaries were far and few between. I never wanted to say no. I wanted to be the best little porn actress without ever starring in porn; I wanted to give the best head, the best hand jobs, the best anal sex. I wanted to do and be it all. If I could please them, I could make them love me and then maybe they would stay and I would be healed and I would be safe and taken care of and all my issues and triggers would just disappear. Easy peasy! So, I had sex with everyone I could. I would go on dates and go home with a guy even if I didn't like him, just to tell him I’d call him tomorrow, or I would just sneak out in the middle of the night and block him. I would get drunk, high, whatever and sleep with multiple people. I started serial cheating on a boyfriend who, looking back, is a total douchebag and was dating me while married and lying to his wife and giving me money and sneaking me all over the place, mainly just to have sex with me and then go back to his rich, easy, quiet, Salem city life. I tried to get pregnant to keep him. Didn’t work... Oh and he was 43 and I was 19, he was a psychologist and probably used every trick in the book on me. And he knew damn well I wasn’t a very mentally well person. Anyways! Have I mentioned that I never used condoms unless it was required by the man? Yup.... I’m a sex educator who went years and years having sex with tons of people and never used condoms and thank all the holy spirits there are that I never contracted an STD or fell pregnant because I also wasn’t getting tested during this entire ‘streak’. Fuck dude. Back to no boundaries! So, yeah, I basically never said no, I went home with anyone who asked, I sought out hook ups and one-night stands that I didn’t actually want or enjoy, I think just because I could? I was THAT hot and THAT powerful and I was also this like beacon of sexual energy, this force, where I would approach men and I would do every trick in MY book and blow their minds and then just disappear. I was like a Siren. But I didn’t kill or eat anyone. And I would go home and cry or maybe wait a few days and then sulk and cry and feel gross and unwanted and unlovable and unworthy and..... gross. To avoid all that shit, I would just do it all over again in a few days because at least WHILE I was pursuing and hunting and pleasuring my prey, I didn’t feel bad or gross or unwanted. Interesting to note, I basically never orgasmed with these more random hook-up partners. But when I had a steadier partner, I rarely felt fully satisfied after an orgasm. I wouldn’t always want to have sex again, but it was like my oven was always on ‘warm’. 

My Sex Drive was Gone, and I felt Broken 

Then all of a sudden, my sex drive entirely disappeared for I think 6 months and I can’t even describe to you how broken, used and undesirable I felt. I didn’t feel like a woman anymore. All of the things that usually turned me on started to sicken me. I couldn’t masturbate, I couldn’t have sex, I could barely be touched by anyone without feeling like my blood was boiling and that I might snap their fingers off. I hiked, I journaled, I cried, I begged, I promised to myself that I would never ever sleep with just random people again. My sex would have meaning and it would be special! (Just SHAME it all away!) I just wanted my sex drive back.

Poly-Maybe & Group Sex 

Welp, that didn’t last very long. I started having three-ways at 19 but they made a big comeback around 21. While working at a place I’ll just call “Rooted”, I slept with as many other employees as possible it seemed and then came this beautiful, hot, powerful, sexy, curvy, soft, tatted, mellow, too-cool, woman. What’s a sexy M name? How about “Mia”! Well Mia did Only Fans and she was fucking hot and she had men from all over the world buying her gifts and giving her money and all of these things. Power. And she was hot. So, we got together one night and decided we wanted to fuck a guy we worked with. I texted him... what’s he doing? He’s available. He wants to hang out. Great.... I send him a picture of Mia’s ass in my hand in the tiniest shorts you can possibly imagine and give him the address... Oh and we’ve got vodka. He shows up with “Ray” ... Ray has a girlfriend. I try to kick Ray out... Ray won’t go... At some point I tell Ray that I’m here to fuck Mia and the other guy and that he has to go. “Nah” he says.... Fine... We go to the bedroom and Ray tears off my pants while I kiss Mia’s entire body and the four of us fucked until the morning. Didn’t really feel anything because I was so, so drunk and really didn’t care about having sex with any of them anyways but that’s beside the point. And that starts my hard dive into group sex. We started having sex with Ray and his other friends. At some point I went to a party with Ray and all his friends and while we’re playing cards, I’m texting Ray to find out who of his friends is down to fuck tonight. Preferably more than one of them. One is too easy. He texts all of them, gets me the list and now I get to pick. I want Ray and X friend. So, we leave and I’m far, far, far, far too drunk to drive so they drive me to the friend's house and we have sex. I wake up at some point to another guy in the room. Don’t remember meeting him, or having sex with him, but he’s hot so who really even cares? In the morning the panic sets in. The disgust, the yuck, the regret; I’ve got to get the fuck out of here. 

It was somewhere in this era that I started to think or accept the idea that maybe I’m not capable of just being with one person for the rest of my life. Maybe I need more than one person. That could be an ENTIRE story in itself but there isn’t enough context here for it yet! 

How did I get There? 

I think we all could theorize for months on end about why my journey looked the way it did. I see connections and little glimmers of deeper understanding all the time, and this isn’t even my whole story. I can’t tell you for sure why I experienced everything I did but I think my assault and my upbringing have so much to do with. Sprinkle in the media we see every day that, less and less now, depicts sex as something women perform FOR men, something women gatekeep from men, that sex holds endless power, and it's shameful. As well as my lack of sex and porn education and literacy growing up. I viewed really intense porn at a young age (though the average child today sees porn by 11 years old) and I had no idea what to do with what I saw. I mimicked a lot of what I saw online and I was completely disassociated from what was pleasurable in my own body. I knew nothing of boundaries or communicating needs and I had no idea what my personal sexual ethics were, nor did I view myself as someone worthy of love and gentleness. It’s deep, it’s really, really deep and this is why I do what I do. 

Where am I Now? 

I think there’s going to be people reading my story thinking “uh, this is OBVIOUSLY addiction!!” and at the end of the day, there might be nothing I can do to change their mind. I don’t believe sex or porn are addictive because the research we have today isn’t showing us it IS. That is a whole other blog, with a lot of citations. But I especially do not believe my case has anything to do with addiction because  

• I was in control; I just didn’t know it. I was never taught the skills I needed to be in control of my desire. 

• I lacked basic communication skills and boundary setting that led to my feelings of regret and yuckiness  

• I was severely depressed and at times suicidal 

• I never had ANY cravings or withdrawals which ARE required for medical addiction  

• Wanting to have sex and orgasms because it feels good isn’t the same thing as a craving.... just like how no one would say you were addicted to the sun if you were really in the mood for some sunshine on your skin. We say this about sex or masturbation/porn because of the stigma and shame surrounding them 

• My “symptoms” magically dissipated when I learned how to communicate, set boundaries, tune into my own pleasure, and started to build an idea of what sexual ethics looked like for me  

• A desire to have sex with a lot of people is not always a negative thing, sometimes it’s a really positive and beautiful thing when you have the tools to do it in a way that feels good for everyone. We can’t apply this logic to, say, alcohol. If someone has the desire (and follows through) to drink every single day for half the day, they are indeed an alcoholic, they are physically addicted, and they will need help of some kind to detox safely 

• My naturally high sex drive is not something that needs to be pathologized 

• And so much more, I really could write a book at this point 

Today, I have a long-term partner and a toddler and I’m building a business. I watch porn 0-3 times a week depending on my cycle, and I have sex roughly once every 1-2 weeks. Recently I went at least a year without watching porn because it just stopped 'working' for me. I don’t cheat, I don’t want to cheat. I don’t watch porn that truly looks unethical, but I’m still a very kinky and flavorful person. I still toss around the idea that I may be polyamorous, and it feels good to think about, wonder, and even not know. I feel very in control of my desires, in the sense that I can feel very aroused and REALLY wanting sex or an orgasm but it’s not a necessity and I absolutely do not have to do ANYTHING in order to fill that desire. And I still have a very high sex drive! I love to communicate about just about everything and anything, I love setting boundaries (even though it’s still hard with a lot of things!!!!) and I picked myself a partner that deeply respects my no, all of the time, even when my mind is a yes, but my body is a no. It really never crossed my mind that I was addicted to porn or sex, but I definitely understand why someone else in my experience WOULD think or wonder that. I feel like because of my entire experience that I can really resonate with the stories of others who identify with the addiction model. My journey to sexual wellness, that encompasses my spiciness, is a long and hard and winding and non-concrete one. 

*A special thank you to Erica Garza who wrote the book Getting Off: One Womans Journey Through Sex and Porn Addiction. Reading her book was my AH Ha moment as to WHY I feel so, so deeply passionate talking about the myth of porn and sex addiction. My experience so deeply resembles hers, every page I felt like I was talking to myself in a mirror. Her honesty and rawness made it feel a lot safer to talk so much about my own story and write it in a way that feels authentic. Maybe one day I’ll turn this into a book.