I Was a Sex Buyer. Here’s Why We Must End the Demand

Trigger Warning: This article contains stories of sexual abuse and rape.

For years, I lived a double life. By day, I was a pastor—a man of faith entrusted with guiding others. By night, I was a sex buyer, frequenting strip clubs, massage parlors, and escort services. I justified my actions, convincing myself that money made it consensual, that these women chose this life. But I was complicit in a system that exploits and dehumanizes women. I was part of the demand that fuels it.

My journey into buying sex didn’t begin with bad intentions. It began with unresolved pain. As a child, I was molested and exposed to violent pornography at an early age. That trauma shaped my understanding of intimacy and relationships. I grew up believing that vulnerability was dangerous, that intimacy meant rejection. So I turned to pornography and paid sex—places where I could feel in control, where I didn’t have to risk being truly seen. But what felt like control was actually a trap, and what I thought was meeting my needs only deepened my wounds.

The demand for commercial sex is rooted in brokenness. By giving in to this brokenness, we sustain a $100 billion industry that thrives on exploitation. We tell ourselves that these women are there by choice, that they’re smiling and making money. But the reality is far darker. Many are coerced, trafficked, or trapped by circumstances beyond their control. Even those who enter the industry willingly often do so out of desperation, not desire.

RELATED: Is Prostitution a Choice?

My rock bottom came when I attempted rape. My illusions shattered as I looked into the eyes of this woman and saw her fear. For the first time, I saw her as a person, not an object. She wasn’t just a body; she was someone’s daughter, someone’s sister. She had dreams, a name, and a story. And I was complicit in her pain. I was arrested after that and spent time in jail. In my darkest moment, I realized I had a choice: to let shame consume me or to seek real help and healing. It wasn’t easy. There were few resources for men like me, and the journey was messy and painful. But I committed to change—not just for myself, but for others who might be trapped in the same cycle.

Ending the demand for commercial sex starts with accountability. Men need to take responsibility for their actions and recognize the role they play in perpetuating exploitation. But it’s not enough to stop buying sex; we need to address the root causes. Many men turn to the sex trade because of unresolved trauma, unmet needs, or a fear of intimacy. We need to create spaces where men can confront their pain without shame, where they can learn to build healthy relationships and find real connection.

WATCH: Gene’s story featured in Exodus Cry’s film, Buying Her

We also need to challenge the cultural narratives that normalize and glamorize “sex work.” Pornography, media, and even casual conversations often reduce women to objects, reinforcing the idea that their bodies are commodities to be bought and sold. This dehumanization makes it easier for men to justify their actions. But when we see women as people—when we look into their eyes and recognize their humanity—it becomes impossible to ignore the harm we’re causing.

This was never more clear to me than when my daughter came home from a date one night. She was distraught as she told me how the man had date raped her. I was so angry. I asked God, “How? How could anyone do this to my daughter? Don’t they know how precious she is? How much I love her?” I heard God say to me then, “Are you done? This is what you did to my daughters.” It shook me to my core.

And so, to the men paying for sex or considering it: you’re not just purchasing a service, as if her body is an item on a menu. You’re buying into a system that horrifically exploits women. You’re settling for so much less than what you’re made for. You’re purchasing her consent and her silence, and by doing so, you’re dehumanizing yourself as well as her. This isn’t the way to heal your pain, escape your isolation, or meet your need for connection. 

And to the women in these situations, I want you to know that you are not defined by this. You are not a commodity. You are loved, cherished, and valuable.

To end the demand for commercial sex, we need laws and policies that deter paying for sex, but we also need to change hearts and minds. Men have to be part of the solution. We must create a culture where exploitation is no longer tolerated, where men are held accountable, and where women are seen as more than objects.

I was a sex buyer, but I’ve learned that change is possible. And if I can change, so can others. Together, we can end the demand and build a world where no one is bought or sold.

Gene McConnell is a former sex buyer and founder of Authentic Relationships Int, helping people heal emotional wounds and break free from pornography and exploitation. His story is featured in a new documentary about sex buyers, called Buying Her.