One of Simon Camilleri’s biggest regrets is that he never once confessed that he had a problem. He was always discovered, caught out. The extent of his pornography addiction was hidden even to himself.
“But I’ve discovered that God doesn’t allow things to remain hidden,” he says.
Now 36 years old, it’s hard for Simon—or most of us—to remember a time when pornography wasn’t readily available at the click of a button. These days, the average age of a child’s first exposure to pornography is age 11, and falling fast. But for Simon, what started as a teenage, curiosity-driven online search ended up as an addiction that besieged him for most of his 20s.
It was when he left home and started university that Simon’s addiction began to take hold. “I had unmonitored access to the internet and I realised the ocean of pornography that was out there.”
He got swept up in the surf, not appreciating how much it would attract him—or affect him.
“The thing about pornography is there’s no place in which you feel full of it. It’s not like overeating. So, if you have the opportunity, you can look at porn for hours and hours, and there were times I’d do that. I’d hear the birds chirping in the early hours of the morning, and I’d think, ‘Oh my gosh, what have I been doing?’”
In different seasons of Simon’s life, pornography became a place of retreat. It was where he’d turn to feel better about himself, a place where he would “medicate” any feelings of loneliness, sadness or stress. The problem was, pornography didn’t help decrease Simon’s stress levels; it increased them.
“If you’re a Christian it does especially, because now you’re grappling with this thing you know you shouldn’t be doing, but it keeps sucking you in.”
As Simon struggled with his addiction, he continued to go to church in the suburbs of Melbourne, and even started up a ministry, The Backyard Bard, a Christian theatre company that specialised in biblical storytelling. His desire to share the gospel was real and strong. And his addiction, compartmentalised from the rest of his life.
But he was also in a long-term relationship and when he was 23, he married. He shared a little of his struggle with pornography with his new wife, but his main goal was to hide it from everyone, even her.
“It was a part of my life that made me feel like I could never be fully known, or that I could never let anyone know me completely.”
Five years went past, and the extent of Simon’s addiction remained, for the most part, hidden. But he began to be caught out, discovered by his wife. And each time his addiction was exposed, he knew he’d broken his wife’s heart.
“I would promise her, and promise God, that I would fight this, and not do it again. But I was doing it in my own strength, and I couldn’t admit to anyone that I actually didn’t feel like I could fight it. I don’t even think I admitted it to myself, that it was that bad that I couldn’t get my stuff together and work it out on my own.”
Looking back now, Simon recognises God’s handiwork in how his addiction was brought to light. “When we don’t realise how weak we are, God can bring us to a circumstance where we see it abundantly.”
Discovered for the last time, Simon’s wife told him to leave. And, as part of a church community, when your wife kicks you out there’s no more hiding. The mask Simon was holding up came crashing down. And it was no longer a secret—to his friends, to his church or to himself—that he needed help.
He felt free. “I could meet with people who understood, who could give me hope and who could speak the truth into my life.”
Simon could only find one support group on the other side of Melbourne, and he travelled once a week to meet them. There he found a group of Christian men who gave him encouragement, truth and most of all, hope. It was also there, he came to realise that God wanted him to get involved in this type of ministry.
“There’s a such a big need, and a lack of support groups in Melbourne for this issue. The church is under-resourced too, in knowing how to tackle pornography. There’s a big question about how we can walk alongside guys who get stuck in this, and help them out.”
Simon’s own experience was in a loving church environment, which didn’t “mince words” about the seriousness of his sin, but showed him grace and forgiveness and how to be reconciled with God. But talking to guys who’d experienced the same addiction as him was crucial.
In 2009, three and a half years after Simon’s wife had asked him to leave, she filed for divorce. It was a huge blow for Simon, who cites his pornography addiction as “the iceberg that sank the ship” of their relationship. It devastated him, but he also realised it was time to share his story.
He organised an event for the men from his church to attend, and there he told about his struggle with porn, the pain it caused to him and his wife and the “amazing, redemptive God who brought him out of his deepest pit.” He called this event “The Elephant in the Room”.
Sexual sin like pornography breeds isolation and shame, says Simon. In his addiction he felt like a hypocrite, like he had no integrity. So telling his story served to overcome those feelings, and also to try and jolt others facing a similar battle.
“I don’t know what I would have done, if someone had gotten up in front of church and said “I’ve been through this journey, so if you’re struggling [with pornography], please come and talk to me.’ We didn’t have anyone do that. But I wanted to be that person, so others in the same situation might have an opportunity to come forward.”
And it worked. Simon started his own group for men looking for help to overcome their pornography addiction. He calls the group, and the resources he’s developing for churches interested in starting their own support groups, ‘Elephant Room’. With the help of his church, Bundoora Presbyterian in Victoria, which ministers to him as he ministers to others, he leads an anonymous group and provides a safe place for Christian men who understand that there’s something wrong with pornography and are confused and struggling with why they can’t get it out of their lives.
“Freedom from porn, satisfaction in Christ. That’s what the group is on about,” says Simon.
Simon remarried in 2012. He didn’t need to hide his addiction from his new wife; she knows his story and his struggle and now, his passion to help others.
“My testimony is not just a testimony of someone who was addicted to porn and whose marriage fell apart because of it. My testimony is one where I was lost and then I was found. God showed me incredible mercy in not letting me continue down that path. I’m now in a place where I want to proclaim the gospel of mercy and grace and hope and freedom that Christ has for us, and that I’m enjoying.”
If you need help or want to find out more about Simon’s ministry go to: www.facebook.com/elephantroom.info
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