My Story

September 24, 2012

I think a brief overview of how I got here is in order at this point.  What led to this terrible predicament and this devastatingly dangerous fascination?  Allow me to give a simplified version of the facts.

I've always had a fascination with, and I can now say an addiction to, pornography in general.  Since I first discovered my dad's "stash" of Playboy and Penthouse magazines, I was hooked.  The extent and nature of my porn consumption varied greatly with my environment and availability of materials. 

I got married around 1993 and spent about 10 years with my now ex-wife.  We never had the most active sex life, primarily due to her endometriosis, which caused pain with intercourse.  She reluctantly tolerated my use of porn, which eventually became exclusively digital as that technology was obviously the cheapest and simplest to access.  There was no exposure to, nor interest in, anything under-age or illegal, until I lived in Japan, where I developed a bit of a fetish for the "schoolgirl" uniforms and scenarios that are so common there.

My ex-wife and I eventually had two children, a girl and then a boy, and got divorced a year after the birth of our son, in 2004.  The divorce was tough on me, and kind of ugly.  I retreated further into a world of internet porn, having little desire to "make the effort" or to trust living, breathing women. I had a considerable lack of self-confidence.  I went through all types of "genres" of porn, eventually getting bored with one after another.  Eventually, searches for "schoolgirl" themed porn returned images of actual schoolgirls.  The ages of these girls range from 10 to 40.  It was new to me, and admittedly exciting.  I downloaded folder upon folder of free images -- without looking at them first.  It was easier and faster to download, then look at them later.  The vast majority of these images were clothed, or mostly clothed, and were not illegal, though I am still embarrassed by my lack of restraint.  Occasionally, the images were illegal, and some of the models were very young.  When  I found images involving men abusing young girls, I was repulsed and quit downloading content.  But due to stupidity and laziness, I did not delete these images, and I continued to look at the other content that still excited me.

Then, about six years after my divorce, I fell helplessly, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with Jessica (not her real name).  She was the sister of my best friend, I had met her several years before we got together, when she was passing through town visiting her brother.  My attraction was immediate then, but the timing and circumstances were not right.  Later, on a vacation to Central America to visit her with her brother, she was living on a beautiful tropical island, we hooked up and I fell in love.

I fell hard and fast, though she was a bit more tentative.  We corresponded regularly after the trip and I visited again a few months later.  It was magical, beautiful, and intense.  We shared our hidden secrets and tragic flaws.

She had been in some bad relationships and had been raped as a teen.  I revealed my attraction to schoolgirl fantasies, though I withheld the extent of that interest.  I feared losing her.  After months of even more intense communication, she came to Arizona and moved in with me.  The fairy tale relationship developed astronomically fast, we were engaged and she was pregnant in less than two months.  My interest in porn was gone.  I was so in love and so committed.  I deleted all of my child porn before she moved in, but copies of it all remained on my backup drive.  (I've already admitted to my idiocy!)

As the pregnancy advanced, her libido decreased and I started looking at porn again (legal only!).  There was a little episode where she was upset about this, but acknowledged her lack of interest in sex and agreed that this was a viable alternative.

She asked to use my backup drive for some of her stuff, and I realized I had to wipe it clean.  I was looking through my drive that the images I needed to delete and I thought I had begun the process.  Apparently I hadn't, and Jess stumbled upon them.  Needless to say, it wasn't pretty.  She wouldn't speak to me and she left the next morning on a trip with a friend.  She took the computer and the hard drive with her.  I haven't seen her since.

I tried to explain, I sent emails, I tried to call, I wrote letters (once I found out where she was), but she would not talk to me.  She had promised, once, that we would always communicate our problems.  She lied.  A few weeks later I was contacted by the police regarding "an incident".  I got a lawyer, completely flabbergasted that she had gone to the police. 

Two months later, after my home was searched and a warrant issued, I turned myself in, spent a few days in jail, and was released on bail.  Jessica and I resumed communication for the months I was out on bail.  She circumnavigated my big questions, but admitted hope that I would have a place in our child's life.  She promised answers to my questions "when this was all over".  I still don't know what that means.  She had turned over the computer, the drive, as well as all my communications to her, which included admission, explanations , and apologies, asking to hear me out. 

I signed a plea agreement, expecting the minimum five years and a term of probation.  I got 7 1/2 years and life probation.  I will likely have to serve 85% of it.  In Arizona, most felons serve 65% of sentences, but sex offenders serve 85%.  All other felons can move " up" to minimum security yards with more freedom.  Not so for sex offenders.  All others can pay their dues and get on with life without lingering restrictions.  Not so with us.

I do not intend to trivialize or minimize my mistakes, but I also believe that "system" is neither just, nor organized to assist in rehabilitation.  That being said, I have and continue to attempt to better myself mentally, spiritually, and physically while I pass this time.  I've become more involved in Buddhist study, though I do not exclude any ideas that help in my development.  I'm taking on the 12 steps of addiction as a framework for healing and understanding my actions.  I practice yoga, meditation, I work out, and I read and write voraciously.

There are still many unanswered questions in my mind, the majority dealing with Jess and how and why she did what she did.  I realize how upset, confused, and scared she must've been, but I naively thought that part of love was working through problems.  It seems there were better ways to deal with the situation, and communication should have played a role.  I feel very betrayed, and so very sorry I hurt her, though it was never about or against her.

I have hurt and upset so many people, and most of all my beautiful kids who I was, and continued to attempt to be, so very close to.  I'm so sad when I think of my new baby boy, who I write to regularly.  I haven't heard a word from Jess since I left county jail for state prison almost a year ago.