I was introduced to porn in 11th grade, and I still remember the first time I watched it. I even vividly remember the specific video—we watched it together as a group of friends. It was a mix of wanting to feel like one of the cool kids and all this unaddressed lust in my system that just hooked me in.

When I went to undergrad, I was in a boys-only dorm with high-speed internet, and it was just filled with pornography. That was the culture. I even remember mocking people who didn’t watch porn. One of the few who didn’t was my only Christian friend, interestingly. He never verbally preached the gospel, but looking back, it was clear how the gospel was alive in how he lived. He definitely sowed seeds in me that took 20 years to sprout.

In the throes of my porn addiction, it was the thing I most looked forward to. I was binging porn three times a day. There was no hesitation, no shame—it just felt like a fun, joyful thing to do. And yet, it was killing me.

That’s the challenge with healing work. In an era where knowledge about the energetic body is not widespread, you can be tempted into actions that are horrific for your system. Those energetic injuries eventually manifest physically. You try resolving them on the physical level, but the healing has to happen energetically.

I’ve gone from that to feeling truly free from lust. The way this shows up in my body—and I’m going to get a little graphic here, because we need to talk straight—is that before I was freed, I used to walk around the world (both physical and digital) and catch glimpses of attractive women. Those glimpses would hook into my system and build up a kind of pent-up “horniness,” which would then demand release.

This happened both online and in real life. I noticed, in hindsight, that during my binges, I’d often seek out porn that mimicked the strongest arousal hooks I had experienced in real life. That was a clue.

Now, I don’t get what I call “stray boners.” I can live my life without getting hooked into something that demands release. That feels like true freedom. And I’m not disconnected from my liveliness—I can come alive in intimacy—but I now believe that’s the only proper container for it.

(Other than morning wood—which still happens when testosterone peaks after sleep—it just fades. There’s nothing to do about it.)

One of the biggest shifts was no longer treating arousal as something that required release. I started relating to it as a way of living—something that only rises in response to a partner who is open to receiving it.

One of the key practices in this fight was preventing lust attacks altogether. I treated it like martial arts: if you’re in a fight, you train to block everything. Sure, you might eat a kick or two, but if you keep eating kicks, they wear you down—and the knockout comes next.

Same thing online: unfollow all the hoes. And I mean this respectfully—many women are exploring reclaiming their sensuality, and I honor that. But still—mute them. Unfollow them. Keep your internet clean.

In the past, if I saw an attractive woman in a reel or post, I’d tap her profile and browse more. Now I’ve trained myself to hit “hide,” “block,” “unfollow,” “not interested.” That builds your defense.

You might worry this will make you shut down—but I didn’t experience that. What I found was that my erotic system only activates now when there’s an actual container for exploration.

When you’re on the internet, that woman isn’t near you. She’s not aware of you. That is not the space for erotic energy. If you’re getting aroused, it’s a false signal.

Even on WhatsApp, I used to be in guy threads where people forwarded porn. I started deleting every one. It’s about training your system to guard against the influx of lust—because that influx builds a feeling of lack, and that lack starts demanding a release.

Try it. Let me know how it goes in the comments.