From Addiction
to Redemption:
The Story of Coach G
There was a time I thought I was in control.
Truth is—I was just good at losing quietly.
Before I ever helped another man break free, I was choking on the chains I told myself I could manage.
Porn. Sex. Alcohol. Lies.
It didn’t happen all at once. It happened over time, in silence, with a smile on my face and a Bible in my hand.
The First Hit
I was around 7 or 8 when I first saw porn. It wasn’t something I went looking for.
The tape was labeled “Commando”—I thought I was about to watch Schwarzenegger. Instead, I saw something I didn’t have the language for.
It unlocked a curiosity... and a shame I didn’t know how to carry.
Not long after, during a sickle cell crisis, my mom handed me a prescription—Tylenol with Codeine—on her way to work.
That was it.
That’s when the wiring began:
Pain = Something I can control.
Porn to numb the confusion. Pills to numb the pain.
It was never about the high.
It was always about the escape.
I'm sure you can relate!
A Good Life on the Surface
Fast forward 20+ years and I had it all—on paper.
✔ A wife everyone admired.
✔ Beautiful, cared-for kids.
✔ The degree. The house. The name in the community.
✔ A career in education, sales, and social work.
✔ Active in church.
✔ Always available for everyone else.
But behind closed doors?
I was still that little boy…
Chasing numb. Hiding secrets. Playing God.
I had affairs—or tried to.
I blew money.
I made myself sick to get scripts.
I knew which stores wouldn’t ask questions and which friends would help me stay hidden.
The Mirror I Couldn’t Avoid
My wife begged me to go to therapy. I went—to shut her up.
Despite losing my family, my marriage, my home…
what finally broke me was walking in on my son watching porn.
I knew exactly where he learned it.
That was my moment.
Not because I got caught.
Not because I lost anything yet.
But because I saw myself in him—and I hated what I saw.
I realized:
I had become the exact man I swore I’d never be.
Not because I was evil… but because I was unhealed.
Rock Bottom Was the Best Place to Rebuild
Rock bottom doesn’t come with a welcome mat, but it comes with clarity.
I've hit it three times:
➔ The first time, I did it for others.
➔ The second time, I did it to save what I had built.
➔ The third time, I did it for me—for the inner boy begging the man to finally show up.
I lost a lot:
➔ My marriage
➔ My reputation
➔ My money
➔ My sanity (at times)
But I found more:
➔ Peace
➔ Purpose
➔ Me
The Death of the Victim
I used to say, “At least I’m not like my dad.”
He was an addict, too.
But I was just like him.
I blamed God. I blamed people.
I told myself I was doing this for my family.
The truth? I was performing for people and dying in private.
The turning point wasn’t a program.
It was the decision to stop being a victim and take back my life.
Real Recovery Ain’t Cute
In recovery, I tried it all:
➔ 3 therapists (none of them had lived what I lived)
➔ Men’s ministries (most churches wouldn’t talk about sex or porn addiction)
➔ Coaching (helped—but often lacked faith integration)
➔ AA (structured and faith-based, but too many “gray areas” for a guy like me)
Eventually, I went back to what was solid:
➔ The Bible.
And I saw how even the greatest men of God fell:
➔ Abraham lied to save himself.
➔ Samson was gifted, but consumed by lust.
➔ David had God’s heart… but couldn’t control his own.
➔ Solomon had wisdom, but chased pleasure.
Their stories went from excuses… to warnings.
I didn’t want to be another powerful man with a public image and a private prison.
Today
Let me be clear:
Recovery isn’t clean.
It’s messy. Slow. Spiritual war.
But from that pit, God didn’t just rescue me—He rebuilt me.
He gave me back my identity.
And while I’m still tired, now I choose why I’m tired:
➔ Tired from building, not hiding.
➔ Tired from showing up, not pretending.
➔ Tired from healing, not hustling for approval.
I used to wake up fearing I’d get caught.
Now I wake up with purpose—even when I’m exhausted.
Final Word
I didn’t become Coach G because I wanted to coach.
I became Coach G because I couldn’t keep what God gave me to myself.
If you’re reading this and still pretending…
If you’re successful but silently suffering…
If you think no one gets it…
Let me be the one to tell you:
You don’t have to die in the same grave you were born into.
You can rebuild.
You can be free.
But only if you’re done lying to yourself.
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