I need to talk to you about porn. We’ve been through this before, but right now, I don’t want an argument, I just need you to listen and to really hear me.
Porn for me is not just videos, or websites. If you are using photos, images or short form videos of random girls, celebrities or chat apps (or anyone or anything) to get off to, or look at to enable you to have sex with me, or even if you are just scrolling or browsing, it’s all porn to me, because your intentions are the same and the outcome is the same.
This isn’t casual chat, and it’s not up for debate. For me, a healthy relationship—my version of healthy—does not include my p
artner maintaining a secret sexual life behind my back.
I’ve been the woman who tolerated it, rationalised it, tried to accept it. But that woman no longer exists.
Porn might seem meaningless or manageable to you, but it causes an emotional burden for me I am not willing to carry for anyone.
It’s not about whether you think its harmless—it’s not even about your intentions. It’s about the impact it has on me and what I know it costs me. I cannot trust a man who lusts after other women, while looking me in the eye and telling me he loves me.
When you use porn, you’re giving your attention, your sexual energy, your intimacy to something else. Something that isn’t me and isn’t us. And in a healthy relationship, that kind of attention—energy, focus, care, desire—that belongs with your partner. With us.
When you use porn I want you to know what it feels like for me: Like I’m standing in the room, laying beside you or holding your hand and not being seen. Like I’m being silently compared to something I didn’t sign up to compete with—and losing everytime. Like I’m not enough. Not wanted. Not loved. That you find me unattractive. That my body disgusts you. That I am not worth the same effort or focus you give so freely elsewhere.
It makes me feel ugly and unattractive. Like my body is undesirable. Unchosen. Discarded. Like the relationship we’re building doesn’t hold value in your eyes—not really. Not where it counts. It makes the nice things you do for me and say to me seem disingenuous. And I won’t live like that.
Porn is not a neutral presence in a relationship for me. It is emotional and sexual betrayal. You think you have it all under control while I sit here trying to explain to you why my heart is breaking.
So I’m not asking. I’m stating: Porn, in any form, has no place in a relationship for me. The secret use of videos, images or short videos or anything to get off to behind your partners back, is not compatible with the life I want for myself, or us. It will eventually erode away all the good things we share and have already built together.
If we’re building something real, it has to be without porn. That’s my boundary, not because I’m difficult, or insecure—but because I’ve learned the hard way what I need in order to stay whole.
And I will choose my healthy wholeness over accommodation of someone elses unhealthy behaviours every time.
This isn’t a plea. It’s not a test. It’s not an ultimatum or an accusation. It’s a boundary I am no longer willing to blur. I love you. But love is not meant to cost me my self-respect or my dignity. I am not asking for your compliance wrapped in resentment. I want honesty. If you can’t live without porn or getting off to the things you find on your phone, then just say so. Be honest with yourself first and then you can be honest with me.
If porn is part of what you choose to have in your life, then whether you mean to or not you choose a life without me. Not because I’m cruel, or I hate you but because I’ve already lived what happens when I don’t honour my truth.
This is me loving myself enough to say: no more. I no longer want to endure things that make me feel unwanted and unloved. Because I will never again shrink myself or become invisible to keep the peace.