I discovered hardcore porn when I was about ten. I realized stuff I fantasized about at that age was a fetish for adults.

I was a weird kid. Foreign, small, unfashionable, and very 'out of the loop'. I had this fetish, which, despite the porn, I was ashamed of. I was bullied constantly at school. I'll never forget being whipped with some kind of fabric across my face for a good five minutes at the bus stop in front of my on-looking schoolmates. No one said anything, apart from my friend who laughed because I had tears in my eyes.

I realize now that I was never brought up to express my emotions. I thought any emotion I felt was my weirdness presenting itself. There was nothing I liked, nothing I didn't like. But deep down I was hurting. I was anxious and sad; deeply depressed.

I never learned about sex at home. I never had the talk, and sex was never discussed in the house at all. My parents got divorced, and my father all but dissappeared. I viewed porn as a teacher.

At my worst, I was watching hardcore, fetish-related porn and masturbating four or five times a day. At best, once a day. I never had a break.

I then met an amazing woman. I loved her the second I saw her. We married. Our sex life was always sub-par, but on every other level we were great. But I still couldn't show vulnerability. She would surely leave if she knew the real me.

I was too scared to tell my wife the extent of my fetish. I wanted to, but without fully experiencing it in the way I 'needed' I'd never know how to tell her or whether it was worth the risk. I look back on that and realize just what an awful addicted mindset that was.

Porn escalated, more and more. I'd seek out women in real life to validate my fetish. "If I visit this person who offers a service for this fetish, maybe then I'll know just how important it is in my life." "I'll be happy as soon as I can figure this out." But of course, as is the case with addiction, it was never enough.

I cheated on my wife so many times in so many ways. It breaks my heart. I am now nearly three years clean from physically acting out. The last time it happened I told my wife and said I needed therapy, to which I've been going for the three years. I am quite literally in the best, cleanest position I've been in since I was ten years old. I am proud of my progress.

It still breaks my heart every day. My wife has forgiven me. But deep down, just like the little boy that sought out porn in the first place, I cry inside all the time. I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to be 'that' person. I am working hard at forgiving myself, recognizing that my wife really does forgive me, but I'm finding it so hard. I've never planned anything but I often wonder if life can continue like this, whether I deserve it or not. I'm scared because I don't see hope. The only thing that keeps me going is seeing my wife smile.