It was fall, so the sun began to set before four o’clock in the afternoon. The temperature dropped dramatically when the light disappeared. On my way out the door, I grabbed a jacket and a scarf. My West Texas upbringing left me ill equipped for temperatures below seventy degrees.

I was on my way to a concert that was a fund-raiser put on by high school kids every year. My husband’s band was playing, and I was looking forward to spending some time with some students I was volunteering with.

Crystal was one of those students. She was shy and admittedly insecure at times, but I could tell she was beginning to find herself, and on rare moments, she also was finding the confidence to let herself shine through.

We grabbed some soda and sat down at a table off in the back of the room. She was quieter than usual. I asked if everything was okay, and she assured me she was fine. It had just been a long day. The first band started, and the bad PA system echoed their music throughout the sports complex in their gym.

Between songs, I kept glancing over at Crystal. She wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the band, the music, or the swarms of people milling around us. She was intently focused on staring at the top of her Diet Coke can. A few other girls joined us at the table for a while, and she barely looked up.

Something was definitely wrong.

I may not be good at much, but something I feel I’ve been uniquely gifted with is a very keen sense of reading people. Call it intuition or a sixth sense; I don’t know. But when something is wrong with a person, as I was sensing with Crystal, it’s almost like I can hear the sounds her heart is too afraid to turn into words.

Crystal was a good girl. She never got in any trouble at church or school. I couldn’t imagine she was feeling guilty for partying too hard or getting into a fight with someone.

And then it hit me, right out of the blue.

She had a porn problem.

I know it sounds weird, and trust me, I don’t typically walk into rooms and think, Oh, she has a porn problem, or Oh, he’s cheating on his wife, but sometimes those things just hit me; and most of the time, my instincts have been spot-on.

The question now was how to find out for sure. Because if my gut was right, this meant our relationship would grow much deeper, very quickly. And if I was wrong, well, I’d look like a freaking idiot.

I had already asked her if something was wrong, and she said no, so I didn’t want to seem like I was pushing her. My next thought was to simply share how porn had been such a problem in my own life, but then I realized how creepy that would be—especially if I was wrong. How do you start that conversation exactly? Especially at a high school rock show? I played the conversation out in my head.

“So, that song was really awesome. That bass player is incredible. Did you know I was addicted to porn? Wanna hear about it?”

Yeah.

That probably would be just a tad awkward.

Silently, I asked for wisdom and courage to say the right thing. Actually, it didn’t even have to be the right thing; it could have been anything to help my friend get whatever she needed to get off her chest.

The first band finished, and I asked Crystal if she wanted another Diet Coke. I got up and got more snacks and came back. She was still looking pretty upset. I decided to just dive in and let the conversation flow.

“So I’ve had this thing that’s been really jacking with me lately. It actually used to mess with me a lot a few years ago, but it still tempts me on a frequent basis. . . . I really haven’t been able to share much about it with many people, but I feel like I need to share it with someone.”

I paused a bit, taking a mental and emotional deep breath, realizing that I was just about to confess something really shameful to a girl I barely knew. At this time, the secret about my porn addiction was still very much close to my vest.

“You can totally say no. I mean, I know you don’t really know me and stuff, but I just feel like I need to share it with you.”

Crystal looked confused, and rightly so. She had one of her eyebrows cocked up and her mouth twisted a bit, but I could tell she was curious.

“Sure, yeah, I guess . . . ,” she mumbled, looking down.

“And you won’t tell anyone about it, right? Because I’m not really sure how many people I want to know about this.”

She now looked a little concerned, like maybe she needed to pull out her cell phone and have the police on speed dial.

“No, I won’t tell anyone,” she said, now trying to mask her What the heck? look with a You can trust me and I’m serious expression.

“Okay. You see that guy up there tearing down the drums on the stage?”

She looked up and nodded.

“His shirt says XXXChurch.com—The #1 Christian Porn Site, right?”

Crystal wrinkled her nose a little bit. “Yeah, what is that, even?”

“It’s a website for Christians who have addictions to porn and sex and stuff like that.”

“Really?” she asked, whispering. “A lot of Christians look at porn?”

I leaned in a bit and nodded.

“That’s kind of the thing I wanted to talk to you about. That website has actually been really helpful for me, because when I was in high school and up until a couple of years ago, I was totally hooked on porn. Well, I was hooked on a lot of things. But porn was the biggest issue for me.”

Crystal looked back at me, not blinking. Not saying anything. So I continued talking.

“You see, I got rid of my computer a few years ago, and even right now I don’t have Internet at home, but I have it at work and when I go over to my in-laws and stuff. So now that I have access to it, I’m finding that I keep getting tempted to look at it again. The cool thing about XXXChurch.com is they have software called X3Watch you put on your computer and it will e-mail the sites you visit to people you tell it to, you know, for accountability. And since I’m starting to be tempted again, I really need someone to help me keep that in check. I know it’s a big ask, but can I put you down as someone who would be e-mailed my Internet usage report?”

I didn’t mean to confess that much. I totally didn’t plan on telling her all that. I didn’t plan on asking for her help.

She simply said, “Sure. I guess that’d be fine,” and turned her head back toward the stage. My husband’s band was about to play.

It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. I was sure she was going to confess something back to me. But maybe my gut instinct was wrong. Maybe I needed the help and it wasn’t about her.

WATCH for Part 2 on November 3rd, 2010.

Excerpted from Permission to Speak Freely by Anne Jackson, by permission of Thomas Nelson, Inc.