when I claim that my pornography use did not affect how attractive I found my wife am I being honest with myself?
I think that, with me, there were two things at play. Let me do the bad one first: hypocrisy.
[…]
It feels like the stereotype I have of Victorian men: they insisted on very high standards of morality from their wives in their homes but practised very low levels of morality when they were out at night.
It is a double standard, a hypocrisy, but it is one that came easily to me. I found it easy to compartmentalise how I viewed my wife from how I viewed pornography. Perhaps I’m kidding myself, but I think I am telling the truth as I experienced it.
The second thing at play is the notion of looking at someone. When you meet someone you form an opinion of them very quickly. Some of that is based on what they look like, some on their clothes, some on their manner, some on the context in which you meet them, etc., etc. That “opinion” is a kind of feedback loop: what you think of someone affects how you see them, even what they look like. This was proved to me most forcibly years and years ago. I had an office job for a year and there was a lovely older woman worked there. We were all friends with her because she was such a fun, kind, and interesting person. A few months after I started there we were chatting and she mentioned that she was ugly because her nose had been damaged in the womb by her twin brother. I was startled, and carefully looked at her again. She was right, she did have a damaged nose, and it did make her ugly, but for the past two months I had not noticed that at all. When I saw her, I saw her through the lens of my mind’s understanding of her: she wasn’t ugly.
When I look at my wife I don’t just see a beautiful 52 year old woman, I also see the 18 year old I started dating, the amazing mother of our children, and the woman I am hoping to get old with. I see her strengths and weaknesses, I see her beauty and her frailty, I see her love of me and my love of her. Pornography did not eat away at the richness of shared experiences that form the lens my mind uses when I look at my wife. She is beautiful, you would think so if you saw her, but she is even more beautiful and even more visually arresting for me.
I don’t know if my experience is shared with other married porn addicts here, but pornography did not change how I viewed my wife; the women in porn were never a yardstick by which I judged her appearance.