Relfection 24: What No One Taught Me About Purity

Edited: This is a sensitive topic, especially for younger readers, and I want to approach it carefully. But it’s also something that needs to be talked about, because too many men carry this silently for years.

When I was around 14, I was exposed to pornography at school. I didn’t get any real guidance from my parents, not because they didn’t care, but because I didn’t know how to ask. I knew it wasn’t appropriate, and I didn’t know what to do with what I had seen. Like most teenagers, curiosity took over.

At the time, I had access to a computer without parental controls. My parents had just gotten divorced, and there was a lot of tension and confusion at home. I didn’t feel like I could go to either of them for clarity or direction. So I tried to figure things out on my own, which is rarely a good idea for a young boy.

Over time, that curiosity turned into a habit, and that habit turned into a struggle that followed me for years, well into my early twenties. I was still going to Mass. I went to confession occasionally. But I didn’t fully understand the gravity of what I was doing or how deeply it was affecting my heart, my mind, and my ability to love well.

In 2020, during Covid, I was forced to slow down and really look at my life. I realized I wasn’t living out my Catholic faith the way I thought I was. I started listening to podcasts, reading books, and doing Bible studies. Through prayer, learning, and grace, I was finally able to break free from that pattern.

That season also became a time of real discernment. I asked hard questions about my future. Was I called to marriage? The priesthood? A single life of service? I didn’t know. Then, a few months later, I met my wife online. From the beginning, I was able to be honest with her in a way I had never been with anyone else. I shared things I had never told anyone. That vulnerability didn’t make me weaker. It made me grow up.

It helped me become a better man and a better Catholic.

That doesn’t mean temptation disappeared forever. It didn’t. What I learned, though, is that my struggle was deeply tied to isolation. When I was alone, disconnected, and idle, temptation had more room to grow. When I started filling my life with prayer, movement, discipline, friendship, and eventually marriage, that vice lost its grip.

This is something the world talks about constantly, yet almost never honestly. It’s treated as normal, harmless, and private. But it’s damaging. It hurts relationships. It breaks trust in marriages. It shapes children before they are ready and fills them with confusion and lies.

That’s why my wife and I care so deeply about families, faith, and formation. This blog and our work exist because we want to help parents raise children who know truth, who can talk openly, and who are formed by Christ rather than by the world.

This topic could be expanded in many ways, and we’ll probably return to it. But I wanted to share this part of my story so you understand where I’m coming from. Not from judgment, but from experience, healing, and hope.

Freedom is possible. Grace is real. And God is patient.

Prayer
Lord, heal the places in our hearts that are wounded in silence. Give us courage to seek truth, strength to pursue purity, and humility to rely on Your grace. Help us protect our families and lead them closer to You. Amen.

See you in the Eucharist.