I had reached a point where I knew something had to change. The cycle of temptation, indulgence, and guilt had worn me down. I was tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and tired of letting lust have control over my thoughts and actions. But more than that, I was ready to see God—not just as a distant idea or someone to ask favors from—but as the one who could truly set me free.
The first step, I realized, was awareness. I had to see the triggers clearly. I remembered how social media had been the starting point of it all—the endless scrolling, comparisons, and curiosity that had slowly eaten away at my self-control. I had to remove that from my life. I decided to stop social media entirely. No apps, no feeds, no distractions that could lead my mind to temptation. That decision was painful, because social media had been my comfort, my escape, my boredom-killer. But I knew it was the battlefield, and I couldn't fight while giving the enemy open access.
I also understood that awareness alone wouldn't be enough. Lust is more than a habit—it's mental, emotional, and spiritual. I needed God's strength. I began praying sincerely, asking Him to help me resist, to guide my thoughts, and to renew my mind. I surrendered my struggle fully, realizing that human strength alone could never overcome this. I couldn't rely on willpower or temporary discipline. I needed divine help.
Next, I sought accountability. I talked to my sister openly, sharing what I was struggling with. Having someone who knew and who could remind me of the truth made a huge difference. I couldn't hide anymore, and I didn't want to. Every time I felt temptation rising, I thought of her guidance, her warnings, and her prayers for me. It kept me grounded.
Then came discipline. I knew I had to replace old habits with new ones. I started creating a daily routine: early prayers, scripture reading, journaling, and small acts of intentionality that reminded me I was choosing a different life. I recalled Pastor Philip Mitchell's words: "Break your flesh. Crucify it. Tell your flesh it has no authority over you. Discipline it. Crush it. Give it no pleasure." Those words echoed in my mind every day. I realized that fighting lust wasn't a one-time act—it was a daily battle of intentional choices.
I also learned the importance of guarding my mind. I filled it with positive content—scriptures, sermons, and uplifting books. I avoided anything that could trigger old habits: websites, chats, movies, and even certain conversations. Every distraction removed was a victory. Every thought redirected toward God's truth was a reinforcement of my freedom.
Reflection and journaling became my safe space. I wrote about my struggles, the moments I almost gave in, the victories I achieved, and my prayers. Seeing my progress on paper made the fight feel real. I could track my journey and understand my triggers. I could reflect on what worked and what didn't. Journaling became a mirror for my soul—a way to see God working even when I couldn't feel it immediately.
I clung to scripture like life rafts in a storm:
Philippians 2:5 reminded me to think like Christ, to have His mindset.
1 Corinthians 10:13 reminded me that temptation is common, and God is faithful to provide a way out.
Psalm 119:11 reminded me to hide God's word in my heart so that I would not sin against Him.
The first night I truly felt a victory, I was tempted. My mind tried to pull me back to old habits, but I prayed. I remembered Pastor Mitchell's words. I reflected on scripture. I called my sister to talk briefly, confessing my thoughts. And that night, I resisted. It wasn't easy. My body, my mind, even the memories of past indulgence tried to convince me that I could sneak away. But I didn't. I refused.
The next day, I felt a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. For the first time, I realized that freedom feels heavier than indulgence at first, because it requires vigilance and choice. But that freedom also felt alive—it wasn't fleeting, empty, or shameful. It was real, tangible, and powered by God.
I had learned that victory doesn't come all at once. Old habits die hard, yes, but every moment of discipline, every conscious choice to resist, every prayer, every scripture read, and every act of surrender strengthened me. I was learning to live like Christ—day by day, moment by moment, thought by thought.
That night, lying in bed, I reflected on the journey so far. I had removed social media. I had sought accountability. I had disciplined myself. I had guarded my mind. I had prayed. I had journaled. And for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope—not just hope that I could resist lust, but hope that God could completely transform my life.
This first real victory wasn't the end. Far from it. But it was a beginning—a proof that change was possible. That night, I realized that I wasn't alone in the fight, and I didn't have to be. With God, with guidance, and with discipline, I could finally start walking the path I had always known I needed to take.
And so my journey continued, one day at a time, one victory at a time, with God's strength as my anchor.