I can't think of any.
Every day at 5 PM CST, like clockwork, I hear from a young Samson guy who's been in deep seated bondage to lust for most of his life. He and I have been chatting (telephone calls) for +/-1 year now. And interestingly enough, we've only spent a handful of hours together face-to-face throughout that same period of time.
We came to know each other via "Make Thursdays Great Again" which is the Price Is Right of virtual Samson Society meetings. As such, like the TV show, not only is it high energy but it's easy to sit back and simply spectate (with a big grin on your face) amongst the throngs.
I moved away from that virtual group and haven't looked back, but my hope is he'll soon be reengaging therein (schedule permitting). It's a perfectly comfortable landing spot for him for such a time as this.
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When he and I chat daily, we understandably never talk for too long. His schedule is tight. Plus, when you're as faithful as he is relative to communication (and twelve months has passed), an efficient routine / pattern develops.
In this young man's past is active military duty. Specifically, years spent deployed to the Middle East where he risked life and limb for not only our country but for those where he was stationed. Since I've no experience as a soldier, I'm always fascinated to learn of his own (when he's comfortable divulging).
A question arose yesterday, (7/26) regarding where exactly he chronically consumed porn whilst deployed in the Middle East, and he blithely stated, "in the port-o-potties".
This admission gripped me as I tried to imagine doing this day after day there within that already bleak environment.
He went on to say that every soldier knew that the port-o-potties existed for such uses.
!?!?!?
My head spun around five or six times when he divulged this to me, and in many ways, it's still spinning.
I cannot think of a more pathetic, hellacious location to consume porn / masturbate than a port-o-potty located within the god forsaken desert sands of the Middle East. Yet, this was his everyday routine. Particularly as it related to managing the emotional stress of being barely an adult combined with all the responsibilities of soldiering there within that complicated conflict.
My young Samson friend lost his best friend within that environment too. He rarely speaks of it, yet I know it haunts him and will likely do so throughout the remainder of his life.
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I mentioned in my previous post that bathroom stalls were my go-to in high school / college relative to masturbation. I cannot over emphasize the amount of shame this routine imbued me with. For is there anywhere on planet Earth more CLINICAL and more IMPERSONAL than a commercial bathroom stall?
There is. It's a freestanding port-o-potty.
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As young men, my Samson brother and I chose to strip any semblance of dignity from our souls by taking part in this public restroom routine. I clearly see / am reminded of that now.
What self-destructive, hyper-pathetic traps we so easily fall into within our youth, particularly as it related to our sexuality / libido / managing emotional pain. Patterns that laid the groundwork for potentially so much more emotional anguish / regret to come (as we aged forward).
It is no wonder how easily deceived (internally / privately) we young men can become regarding the very expression of our sexual selves as males. All due to the fact that this hugely important part of our lives - as young men / teenagers - may very well become relegated to settings designed for nothing more than filthiness and refuse.
Desperation breeds ingenuity, yet ingenuity / creativity can at times be its own long-term undoing (just because you can doesn't mean you should).
Please pray for me as I continue to walk with this dear Samson brother, learning about myself (as much as he himself) along the way. Eyes peeled.
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