The Cure Has Begun: A Catholic Perspective on Healing from Sexual Brokenness
- Guest Contributor
- Aug 1
- 5 min read
Updated: Aug 11
By Rachael Killackey, MA SATP
Founder & Executive Director
Magdala Ministries
Note: In this fourth part of a four-part mini-series, we delve into how individuals can experience healing from sexual sin. Rachael Killackey, founder and executive director of Magdala Ministries, a Catholic nonprofit that serves women seeking healing from sexual addiction, considers Catholic teaching and psychological principles in the context of her ministerial experience walking with women on the path to healing. Given recent survey data that show a worrisome and marked increase in societal acceptance of pornography in the United States, this series might be more timely than ever.
There’s a poignant part of C.S. Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where Eustace Clarence Scrubb, an annoying cousin of the Pevensie children of Narnia fame, is turned into a dragon as a result of his insatiable curiosity and greed. While he later experiences transformation and healing, the image of being turned into a monster by the overwhelm of an inner vice is a reality we’ve perhaps all experienced. The process of being worn down by our sin is often a gradual one, unlike Eustace’s — we may not even notice the scales replacing our skin, the fire overtaking our breath. We may believe that indulging ourselves just “one more time” is harmless, but we wake up one day unrecognizable.
I work daily in the realm of people encountering the dragons they’ve become. Recovery from sexual addiction and sin, my specific line of work, is a journey that we don’t often speak of but one that many of us find ourselves on. Perhaps more starkly than any other habitual sin, sexual sin corrupts the body-soul relationship and the communion that is unique to being made human. Whether it’s pornography, masturbation, promiscuity and hookups, or other forms of compulsion, the sexual revolution and our fallen nature ensured we have a variety from which to pick our drug of choice.
One of the main arguments in favor of unbridled sexual behavior, only morally contained by mutual consent, is that it “only affects me” — and this unsupported view keeps us trapped as individuals and as a culture. In reality, I have yet to encounter a person who hasn’t been affected in some way by the pain of sexual sin, whether their own or someone else’s. What we do in the dark sets the blueprint for who we are in the light, for better or worse, especially who we are in relation to others. When we start to breathe fire, it is impossible for others not to be burned.
Even more deeply than communion with others, sexual sin disrupts our peace with ourselves. When we see sexuality as a space made solely for our use, our own sexuality and body become part of that. We use and abuse our own bodies. Secular sources encourage that just about any sexual habit is fine, even healthy, in moderation — but it’s difficult to see where a condition like that ends. Either sexuality’s purpose is decided by us and our desires, or it is not.
The healing journey out of this place of use is not easy. Like Eustace, it requires divine help. Much of our discourse surrounding pornography consumption and sexual sin in general has been characterized by what I call “battle language” — that pornography and compulsion are enemies we must fight against. But as with most sin, the first enemy we must face is ourselves, susceptible to the temptations of darkness without the help and guidance of grace. In Dawn Treader, Eustace attempts to remove the scales from his morphed body by scratching and clawing at himself, but to no avail. Instead, only the claws of Aslan, the allegorical picture of Jesus Christ, can restore Eustace to his original state. The process of letting go and letting God remove the monstrous effects of our sin is painful, long and often messy — but it is truly the only way.
Just as my work involves helping women face the dragon they’ve become, it’s even more defined by the mission to help them rediscover who they really are. Just as I have yet to encounter someone who is completely unaffected by the repercussions of interpersonal or personal sexual sin, I have yet to encounter a person who is struggling with such sin who does not have a story. We are led to seek answers in sexual compulsion because of trauma, abuse, emotional wounds and many other reasons. To heal, we cannot hide from our stories — we must listen to them, perhaps for the first time. Questions have to be asked, memories have to be reckoned with and lies must be replaced with truth. We cannot heal if we ignore our stories — we have to integrate them. Again, this process is rarely short and simple, but it is beautiful.
Watching the scales fall from the women I have the privilege of working with is restorative for my own vision of myself and how I interpret my own story — including the parts of it that have sexual brokenness and sin. This is the power of relational connection and intimacy: just as our sin deeply affects others, so does our healing. When we refuse to let sexual sin dictate who we are and what we desire, we affirm the truth of who others are, too. As with many things, the very place sin poisons also contains the antidote: we cannot restore our own sexuality alone. It must be done in participation with God and others, according to our state in life.
This is why my first piece of encouragement to anyone trapped in a cycle of sexual addiction or sin is to simply tell someone. You know who in your life is trustworthy; whether it’s a priest, therapist or close friend, telling someone is the first step to admitting that you’re in need of grace, and that you’re willing to receive it. As the 12-step recovery model reminds us, “We’re only as sick as our secrets.”
If you’re looking for accountability and support, a recovery group may also be a great place to take steps on your journey of sexual integration. The organization I work for, Magdala Ministries, serves women 18 and older in both virtual and in-person small groups. If you’re a man looking for help, I recommend reaching out to Catholic in Recovery, which also offers virtual and in-person groups in the 12-step paradigm.
As C.S. Lewis writes of Eustace, recovery and healing are not simply one-and-done. His words about Eustace ring true for any and all of us addressing patterns of our sin: “It would be nice and fairly nearly true, to say that 'from that time forth, Eustace was a different boy.' To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun.”
