A Christian counsellor once told me that addiction to pornography is poisonous to a marriage. “If you watch pornography, your marriage will break down.”

He said that pornography kills your sex drive and that your relationship with your partner will falter. “It distracts you from the real thing.”

So our meeting concluded with this: “You should only get a girlfriend once you’ve dealt with this issue. Otherwise, you will not be able to have a healthy, loving relationship.”

That statement marked much of my early struggle against my addiction to pornography.

Back then, I took that advice as preparation for a romantic relationship – after all, who would date a porn addict? For sure, addiction to pornography was the main thing that stood between me and my dream of dating a godly Christian woman.

Valentine’s Day soon became a yearly reminder for me, egging me on to give up my addiction. Surrounded by articles and posts about “good Christian love”, the days leading up to Valentine’s Day were those I found to be the easiest to keep away from pornography.

The usual “godly traits your boyfriend should have” lists that appeared on my feed became my markers of success, the checkboxes I had to tick before I’d finally be rewarded with a romantic endeavour.

But that day never came. I say this somewhat ironically as I’m only 24 years old, but nonetheless it did feel like that. It was as though God had not recognised my pursuit of purity and given me my due reward.

So it was, Valentine’s after Valentine’s, less porn but no added romance.

I’ve written about this topic before, but I thought I’d write about this precise struggle, mainly because it has been incredibly painful.

Resisting pornography was difficult, but the denial of romance was worse. As I began to contemplate the very real possibility of a future without romantic or sexual pleasure of any kind, my thoughts naturally began to wander to the videos and images that did promise me pleasure.

So my battle with sin started falling into this pattern: better, bitter, worse. In the early years, I did indeed watch less pornography, but as I grew bitter from the lack of reward, I ended up watching more.

Better, then bitter, then worse.

THE REAL SIN OF MY HEART

For most of this article, I’ve phrased my problem as “addiction to pornography”, a phrase that while helpful in being precise about my sinful actions, does not say much about the real problem of my heart.

Through each Valentine’s Day, I had clung on not to Jesus, but to the hope that He would reward my “labour” with romance. That hope sustained me, drove me, compelled me. But as that hope began to die, so did my desire for abstinence.

Resisting pornography was difficult, but the denial of romance was worse.

My addiction to pornography and early struggles against it were really two sides of the same coin: unbelief in my God.

I did not trust His plan, which might not have included romance, and so I took it upon myself to twist His arm with outward righteousness. If I did good, He owed me good, right?

But inside, I was worshipping at the feet of my own desires.

When we follow Jesus and pick up our cross, we put down our rights to a comfortable life, a safe life, a planned life, a romantic life. Instead, we join Jesus in His suffering and His glory.

We often think of “putting off the old self” as stopping sinful actions, but sin is much more than that. Sin is an orientation of the heart.

I’ve written about this before, about how God condemned the Israelites for hewing out broken cisterns that held no water (Jeremiah 2:13), instead of turning to Him, the water of life. Except this time, that broken cistern takes the form of a good desire: desiring a romantic relationship – yes, even one with a godly woman.

It is a painful thing to turn aside from what gives you immediate pleasure. Pornography is easy: it guarantees sexual pleasure in a way that God does not. Where in His Word has He promised that? He has not.

But He has promised better things. He has promised eternal life. He has promised real, lasting pleasure at His right hand.

Pornography and sexual immorality are content to leave me miserable in the aftermath of my sin, but God is committed to me experiencing true life, now and forevermore.

LAYING DOWN LESSER LOVES

I’ve mostly been talking about theory thus far. These paragraphs sound nice in an article, but when lived out, I daresay they almost look pathetic.

Oftentimes what resisting pornography looks like is me screaming and shouting the promises of Scripture, sometimes in my head, sometimes out loud. Other times it’s gritting my teeth or biting my tongue until the wave of temptation passes over. Sometimes it’s calling up my friend in the middle of the night, asking for a quick prayer. Or crying and weeping until I fall asleep.

The pursuit of holiness is often painful. Yet, always worth it.

What it looks like is deleting Instagram and my Internet browser from my phone. It has been incredibly inconvenient – Google searches that used to take a few seconds now have to wait till I return to my laptop, and I’m left out of conversations revolving around people’s Instagram Stories.

But deleting those apps from my phone has put a few precious minutes between thought and action. The moments before I decided to reinstall the application and give in to temptation are the moments when theology is transformed into real worship. It is where His gospel grips my heart and His arms hold me fast.

It is in those minutes that the declarations I make in this article spill out into actual repentance.

The pursuit of holiness is often painful. Yet, always worth it.

Whoever waits on the Lord will not be put to shame (Psalm 25:3). Yet to wait upon Him, I must forgo every other pursuit. If I am to pick up my cross, I must first lay down what is in my hand.

For me, it is romance. What do you have to lay down?

The writer’s name has been changed for confidentiality.