I recently saw a post—shared across Instagram, E! News, and celebrity circles—by Madison (Madi) Prewett, the former Bachelor contestant turned Christian influencer. On her Stay True podcast, Madi bravely opened up about something most of us wouldn’t expect her to share publicly: she’s been free from pornography and masturbation for 10 years .
But here’s what caught my attention even more: the mixed responses in the comment section. Some praised her vulnerability—“Thank you for sharing!”—while others were harshly dismissive, saying things like, “So shameful to talk about this in public” or “Nobody needs to hear your personal details.” That tension—between vulnerability and judgment—is the very tension we’re living in today.
Let’s talk about something people don’t usually talk about. Not in small groups. Not in youth sessions. Definitely not across the pulpit. But it’s real, it’s raw, and it’s sitting in the pockets of nearly every congregation—pornography and masturbation.
It’s easy to believe this is someone else’s problem. But the data speaks loudly. A large portion of Christian men—and a growing number of Christian women—silently battle this daily. Young people in the church—teenagers, youth leaders, even pastors—are fighting a war they were never trained for. Most are losing it alone. Not because they’re too weak, but because the enemy is cunning and the silence is deafening.
Why is it so hard to talk about? Shame. Deep, suffocating shame. That heavy feeling in your chest that tells you, “If they knew, they’d never look at you the same.” Shame keeps them quiet. And silence keeps them trapped.
But let’s pause for a second. Because this article—this space—is not about shame. It’s about truth. About grace. About the light that still shines in the darkness, and the God who never recoils from the broken, but draws closer.
Let’s break the silence.
Pornography and masturbation are not new issues. They’ve existed in different forms for centuries. But what’s changed is the accessibility. With just a few clicks, anyone can access explicit content—from anywhere, at any time. And what once felt like a personal, private struggle has become a pervasive epidemic.
Studies have shown that over 70% of Christian men, and nearly 30% of Christian women, report struggling with porn. Even more sobering—many start in their early teens. It’s not just about curiosity. It’s about emotional escape. Stress relief. A way to cope with loneliness, rejection, or anxiety.
But it doesn’t stay innocent. Over time, pornography rewires the brain. It desensitizes us to intimacy, distorts our view of others, and disconnects us from reality. And masturbation, when driven by fantasy or escape, feeds that cycle. It becomes not a moment of relief, but a trap—pulling us further from real connection and deeper into isolation.
And in the church? It creates a double life. A young man raises his hands in worship, then spirals in shame that night. A youth leader teaches purity but deletes browser history in secret. A pastor prays with others, but can’t bring himself to ask for help.
This isn’t about hypocrisy. It’s about humanity. About real people battling real darkness and feeling like they can’t tell anyone.
But friend, hear this: You are not alone. You are not beyond hope.
Jesus didn’t come for the clean and perfect. He came for the weary. The wounded. The ones stuck in patterns they can’t break. When He knelt beside the woman caught in adultery, He didn’t throw stones. He extended truth and love: “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”
That same grace extends to you today.
Healing begins with honesty. With confession—not to be shamed, but to be set free. James 5:16 says, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” Notice the word: *healed*. Not punished. Not scolded. Healed.
The church must become a place where this can happen. Where people can bring their whole selves—broken, bruised, addicted—and find compassion, not condemnation.
So what can we do?
- If you’re struggling: Reach out. Talk to someone safe—a mentor, a friend, a counselor. Find accountability. Use tools like Covenant Eyes or Fortify. But most of all—bring it to God. He already sees. He already knows. And He’s not disgusted. He’s waiting.
- If you’re leading: Speak openly. Share your story if you can. Create spaces for real conversation, especially with young people. They’re already searching for answers—give them more than silence.
- If you’re watching others struggle: Don’t shame them. Don’t dismiss it. Walk with them. Pray with them. Show them what grace with truth looks like.
This isn’t a one-time fix. Recovery is a journey. There will be relapses. But every step toward the light matters. Every confession. Every prayer. Every decision to try again.
You are not defined by your struggle. You are not condemned by your past. In Christ, you are new. You are loved. You are worth fighting for. And the struggle—though it may feel like it’s killing you—can become the soil where healing begins to grow.
Friend, you’re not alone. You are seen. You are loved. And you are never beyond redemption. Let this be the moment you stop hiding. Let this be the moment you start healing.
There is hope. There is help. There is Jesus.
