I’m not hooked, but it totally hurt my imagination and I still suffer from that years later
My father, who was a WONDERFUL man (he died of cancer when I was 15) was
troubled that I was a shy kid in junior high who at age 13 wasn’t wanting to date
any girls yet. So, in retrospect, I think he only wanted to help me “get interested”
when he bought me a copy of Playboy Magazine’s 20th anniversary edition.
Like other men when exposed, I can still see the pictures in my mind to this day.
(I don’t think Dad’s actions were fully uncommon; remembering the song
“Pictures of Lily” by The Who, which detailed much the same action but for a
slightly different reason.) I never quite became “hooked” to the point of buying it
constantly, but it totally hurt my imagination and I still suffer from that years later.
Also, my best friend in high school (later best man for my wedding) had a sister
who worked as a cashier at the town’s X-rated movie theatre, so we got to view
those frequently, which further deteriorated my views on sexuality and made me
somewhat oblivious to the effects of pornography (in front of and behind “the
screen”) until years later.