My father taught me how to ride a bike, the value of a great punchline, and what a woman was supposed to look and act like.

My dad was a great guy with a bad habit.

When we consider relationships negatively impacted by a pornography addiction, most of us first consider the addict’s spouse or girl/boyfriend. It is not just the adult partner who is affected by a porn habit. Even if the addict believes he or she has the habit under wraps, porn’s toxicity leaks into other relationships in an addict’s life.

When I was growing up in the late 1960s and early 1970s, porn made its way into our home in the form of Playboy magazines on our coffee table, next to copies of my mom’s Redbook and Ladies Home Journal. My parents had come of age in the Mad Men era, when Hugh Hefner’s magazine was a signpost of cool in the same way that other sophisticates of their generation smoked cigarettes in the doctor’s office, slow-danced to Sinatra, and imbibed a dirty martini before dinner.

The coffee table reading was only the tip of the iceberg in our home. I can still remember the shock waves that hit me when I discovered the cheaply printed hard-core erotica stashed in my parents’ bedroom. I was 11 or 12 when I discovered a stash of the stuff in my dad’s dresser drawer and nightstand. Whenever my parents left the house, I pored over each plain-wrapped volume. I didn’t fully understand what I had read, but I knew that I’d been initiated into the world of adulthood at an age when I barely understood the mechanics of how babies were made.

I thought these books and materials encapsulated what it meant to be an adult. Porn taught me that the single most important thing to grown-ups was this mysterious world of fantasy, pain, and animalistic impulses too powerful to ignore. I was jarred by the difference between the sexually ravenous Barbies I’d met in the books, and the skinny, frizzy-haired, braces-wearing preteen I saw staring at me in the mirror. By 8th grade, I was determined to do what I could to close that gap. I used some of what I’d learned from the books and magazines with some willing neighborhood boys, which I later discovered is a very common response in children who are exposed to porn.

However, it wasn’t just the early exposure to porn and the resulting sexual experimentation that left dark smudges on my soul. It was devastating to realize that porn was an additional partner in my parents’ marriage. The discovery of my dad’s stash stripped away a sense of trust from me. From that point forward, I was a little uncomfortable around my dad. I was uncomfortable around my mom, too – but the awkwardness was definitely more pronounced whenever I was around my dad. It was as if I’d accidentally seen him naked, though that was never the case. I was left with questions I didn’t have the words or the nerve to ask: How did my dad view my mom? Other women? Me? Was my dad disappointed in me because I didn’t look like the women in Playboy?

I don’t remember either parent ever telling me I was beautiful. I would have given anything to hear that from one of them. In fact, I did give anything when I gave myself away to some eager boys, hoping to hear from one of them that my parents were wrong about me.

Not surprisingly, my dad once advised me to “get some experience” before marrying. He didn’t know I already had. Much later, I realized that his advice was probably a sad self-report on his relationship with my mom.

It wasn’t until later in my life, after I’d become a Christian, after I’d married, that I began to come to terms with how deeply I’d been affected by having porn in my childhood. Men who have grown up with a porn-addicted parent tell me that they learned that real men are addicted to sex, and that it’s okay to objectify women. I thank God that my husband did not bring porn baggage into our marriage. My lost innocence and warped self-image have been more than enough baggage for both of us.

God is an amazing healer. Though I can’t entirely forget, I can forgive because I have been forgiven. I’ve forgiven my dad and mom – and myself, for choices I’ve made. I continue to practice forgiveness as God continues to excavate and reshape my life. I’ve been blessed with a patient husband who has walked alongside me for over three decades, occasionally helping me loose clenched fists from this carry-on or that tote bag I’ve schlepped for far too long.

And restoration has also come as I’ve shared my story with parents who have discovered that their spouse is a porn addict. While these parents may be waging an adult war for their relationship with a combination of prayer, Internet monitoring tools, counseling, and support groups, they need to remember that this is not an adults-only battlefield. Porn’s effects permeate the atmosphere of a household like noxious gas. Commitment to cherishing each child’s personhood and protecting their innocence with ferocity are essential weapons in fighting the battle as well.

This article first appeared on Christianity Today’s her.meneutics blog. It is reprinted with permission from the author.