Let Him Heal You

I’ve always had a love for reading. 

And unfortunately, it became the door to my addiction. 

Growing up, I was an extremely shy kid. There was even a point where people thought I had no voice because I never talked. Because of this—and being homeschooled where there aren’t a ton of opportunities to meet new people—I had a very hard time making friends. As a result, I became very lonely and very bored—a dangerous combination. 

There was a lack of human connection and intimacy in my life, which I desired so badly. 

In middle school, I picked up reading as a hobby. I would read all sorts of books from mystery, dystopian, historical fiction, and more. Eventually, I  stumbled across adult romance books, which I didn’t think anything of. As I read them more, I quickly became intrigued. Romance novels had this way of portraying intimacy with another person, specifically intimacy with a man, which was another thing missing from my life. 

I was always awkward around boys and never knew how to be friends with them. I also didn’t have the closest relationship with my father, which left a significant wound on my heart. As I kept reading—longing for any connection to intimacy I could get—sexual scenes started being introduced, and these books became my first introduction to pornography. 

As I continued to read, these stories eventually led me to try masturbation. 

By the time I was 12, I was fully addicted to both pornography and masturbation. 

Throughout high school, I continued to struggle with sexual sin but never told anyone. I withheld these sins from the confessional because I was scared of what the priest would say. I began to feel a lot of shame and guilt about my struggles, especially because I was supposed to be practicing virtue as a Catholic. 

The shame grew even more because I was struggling with what I thought was only a “man’s issue.” At the time, I didn’t know pornography and masturbation were something women struggled with as well. 

I kept hiding behind the guilt and shame I was experiencing. 

Freshman year of college came and I moved away from home to attend Franciscan University of Steubenville in Ohio. Even though I was at a devout Catholic college, that year was when my addiction became worse. 

College was the first time I had ever been away from home. I didn’t know how to deal with missing my family and not being able to see them—college itself was an extremely overwhelming experience. Being homeschooled my entire life prior, I wasn’t used to having so many people constantly around me. With the transition away from home and all these changes happening, I didn’t know how to cope with it. I turned to porn and masturbation even more than I already had been. 

Sophomore year came around and I was still struggling with sexual sin. One morning, I woke up and went into the communal restroom of my dorm, where I saw a flyer advertising a Magdala small group for women. I was surprised to see there was a ministry dedicated to helping women who were struggling with sexual sin. I wanted to join a small group but was scared because I had never told anyone about my struggles. 

Everyday for two months, I would look at the flyer and think to myself, “Do I scan the QR code?” 

Eventually I got the courage to do so and the next thing I know, I’m sitting in a small group with other women. They’re telling me their own stories and experiences with sexual sin and I told them mine. 

I couldn’t believe that for the first time in seven years, I was finally opening up about it. 

Magdala brought healing I didn’t know my heart needed. 

The shame I had beforehand was broken; knowing I wasn’t the only woman struggling with sexual sin was the start of my journey towards recovery. Seeing other women walking towards Christ and having the opportunity to be alongside them brought about so much freedom from my addiction. 

Magdala helped me realize that Christ was the intimacy and connection I had been desiring for so long. He was the only one who could satisfy the deepest desires of my heart, not pornography or masturbation. 

I knew I had to invite Christ into my heart, letting Him see the ugliest and darkest parts of me. 

But through my small group, I learned that my sexual brokenness was not something to be ashamed of. Rather, it was the exact pathway to God’s arrival. 

I learned that Christ allowed me to be broken so He could be the one to heal me Himself. 

He wanted to heal me even before I knew I was broken. 

After nine years of struggling with sexual sin, I am now in a state of recovery. While it has gotten easier to say no to sin, I still invite Christ into this journey everyday. The second I try to do it on my own is the moment everything falls apart. But this is not something to be ashamed of; it just means I’m not meant to go through the journey alone! 

I will be healing until the day I—God willing—become a saint, because Christ has so many more adventures He wants to take me on. All I have to do is wait and trust.