My wife and I continue to dig through the mire of how & why I became so deeply entrenched into porn. Part of this mining expedition involves re-reading books that were read during counseling; i.e., Every Man’s Battle & Every Heart Restored. In the ‘Heart’ book it mentions that the (male author) attributed a large chunk of cause to his poor relationship with his father and the necessary input he should have had from him at around age 12. Not knowing my ‘real’ father and having The Pig as a stand-in during that time frame seemed to have a connection to the author’s theory; however I was having issues seeing the light. This led to reading a couple of other books from the same author: Preparing Your Son for Every Man’s Battle & Every Young Man’s Battle. Note that there’s a common theme and that his wife has written a similar series for girls & women.
During the years with senor piggly wiggly, I had thought the biggest issue was the verbal and physical abuse to my mother and I. After marrying my first wife (while in the service) and then getting out of college, we started discussing starting a family. I was so afraid that I would treat my kids the way the pig had done me. A point in my favor was that I have never struck a woman, so at least I hadn’t learned that behavior. Did I spank my kids – yes, you bet. I tried to rationalize the need to spank them only in instances where there continued behavior could hurt themselves – like running out in the street. Did I spank them in anger – unfortunately I did, and immediately felt ashamed. The only solace was that I never beat them like the pig did me; i.e., leaving bruises, etc.
However, after so many years, too many years; I discover that I did the three of them an incredible disservice in the same manner that the dreaded step-father did me. I never taught them how to respect a woman. For one thing, I myself had no clue. Masturbation and porn were alive and well in my way of relating to women – it was my norm, and I had no clue how sick & sickening I was. So…yes, I have an excuse for not showing them the right way, but it doesn’t mend my heart for that mistake, nor does it mend their hearts or minds.
My youngest son has broken off all contact with me for over a year now. I have no idea why. My imagination can conjure a multitude of reasons. All I can do at this point is pray that he calls – someday.
Please continue to the Formative Years – Getting Schooled.
Or go back to the previous blog Genesis.
babychristian55 