My struggle with lust and pornography started around primary school, where it was first introduced to me. At that time, I was unaware of what pornography was, and I was also unaware of what lust was.

It came about when my friends started joking around, asking, “Do you watch pornography?” When I asked them what it was, they would just laugh. That joke sparked a curiosity in me to actually find out what pornography was about.

What made the struggle harder was how common porn use was among my group of friends.

Pornography became a true struggle when I started secondary school, which was when I had my first real contact with addiction. I was hooked. The struggle of wanting to watch it, the struggle with masturbation, and the habit of turning to it whenever I was bored or alone in my room. I would shut my door, watch pornography, and it would lead to masturbation.

What made the struggle harder was how common porn use was among my group of friends. I would hear about the websites they watched, and it felt a normal part of my life. Pornography had become something I carried with me, and it persisted even as I entered Secondary 3 and 4.

At that point, I didn’t feel much guilt or shame because I thought it was just part of puberty. It felt natural.

But after I started committing myself more seriously to the Lord, I began learning about the sin of lust – and how it offends God. That’s when I started to understand, “This is not right.”

Guilt and shame began to follow me, but even then… it didn’t really stop me. The regret I felt after watching porn or masturbating didn’t carry enough weight to shift my actions.

And it didn’t help that my relationship with God wasn’t that strong either then.

Trying and failing, by myself

Even when I told God I wanted to surrender this to Him and overcome it with Him, I still gave in to temptation and fell into sin. That made me feel like a hypocrite… saying the right things to God while my actions told a different story.

This cycle began to affect my faith deeply. I started believing that God saw me the same way I saw myself: as someone whose words were big, but whose life didn’t match them.

At the same time, I was serving as a cell group leader. That responsibility felt heavy. I kept asking myself, “Who am I to lead them?”

Shame and guilt began shaping how I showed up around others. I hid parts of myself, trying to be the leader I thought I needed to be — right with God, or at least appearing to follow Him well.

I didn’t just hide this from my cell group, but from friends and family too. I was struggling with lust and pornography, and the thought of sharing that felt unbearable. I felt disgusted with myself, so I tried to cover it up. I believed I had to overcome this on my own.

So I tried. I used apps. I tracked clean days, weeks and months. But temptation would come, and one fall made it feel like everything was undone. No matter what I did, it always fell short. The cycle left me feeling like a contradiction, asking, “What’s the point anymore?”

In my heart, I told God, “I’m not perfect. I can’t overcome this. So why does it feel like I’m expected to, when every failure makes it feel less worth trying?”

I kept going, and I kept failing. I didn’t know how long I could live like this — still leading others, still feeling watched — believing I had to overcome this first before I could ever share it with anyone.

Stepping into the light

Eventually, I realised that this was never the point. I finally understood that we cannot overcome addiction by ourselves. That was when I decided to step out and step into the light by sharing with someone I trusted — someone I could be accountable to.

In church, we are always encouraged to have accountability, to be able to share our struggles. Taking that first step was scary. I feared that if I shared, I would be judged, seen as disgusting or questioned for still struggling as a leader. Those thoughts held me back for a long time.

But I reached a point where I told God, “Enough is enough. I can’t carry this on my own anymore.” Even though I was nervous and hesitant, I typed out the message and sent it. Then came the waiting — the fear of what the response would be.

When my friend replied and told me that he was there for me, willing to hear me out, that opened a new door. That was when I truly believe I stepped into the light. I no longer had to fight alone. 

I finally had someone to share this with, who would journey with me in this fight against sin. Having someone like that, who encouraged me, prayed for me and reminded me not to isolate myself lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.

If you see yourself the way I once did — full of shame or fear — I want you to know that God has placed people in your life to help carry this with you.

Through walking with brothers and the healing in my heart, I gained confidence to share my story with conviction so as to build others up to fight against addiction. 

Since then, I have seen many brothers in church rising to stand against pornography together, encouraging one another and holding each other accountable.

I have come to understand more deeply what God was doing in my heart. I experienced His love and His grace, which is new every morning. I no longer fear what the future holds, even if temptation might come again.

I learned that freedom does not mean overcoming this alone. Freedom is being able to share, to walk with community and to trust that God’s grace is bigger than my sin and my shame.

This journey taught me that the Christian life is a daily surrender — a daily commitment to meet God, talk to Him and bring these struggles into the light.

If you see yourself the way I once did — full of shame or fear — I want you to know that God has placed people in your life to help carry this with you.

There is a life of righteousness with God, and there is freedom found not in isolation, but in walking forward together with Him.