Sex Addiction, Cheating and Broken Trust: How Much Are You Supposed to Carry?

Sometimes somebody tells you something and you keep thinking about it long after the conversation is over.

That happened to me recently.

I know a woman who found out that her husband had been cheating on her with many women for much of their marriage.

Not once.

Not one terrible decision he immediately regretted.

Many women.

Over years.

Just thinking about finding something like that out makes my stomach hurt.

Because how do you even begin processing it?

You're not only finding out that your husband cheated.

You're suddenly looking backward at years of your own life.

The nights he came home late.

The explanations you believed.

The times something felt strange but you talked yourself out of it.

The moments when you may have wondered whether something was wrong with you.

Then you find out there was an entire part of your marriage happening without your knowledge.

And now he says he has a sex addiction.

After talking to her, I kept thinking about those words.

Sex addiction.

I've heard plenty about alcohol addiction.

Gambling.

Shopping.

Drugs.

But sex addiction isn't something I hear women sitting around casually talking about.

Maybe because sex is already uncomfortable for some people to discuss.

Maybe because cheating makes people angry.

Maybe because when addiction and betrayal collide, it becomes hard to figure out where compassion ends and accountability begins.

So, I wanted to understand it better.

And somewhere in all of that, another question became much more important to me.

If someone you love has an addiction, how much of their recovery belongs to you?

An Explanation Doesn't Erase What Happened

Sex addiction is often called compulsive sexual behavior.

It can involve sexual thoughts, urges, pornography, masturbation, affairs, sexual encounters, or other sexual behavior that a person feels unable to control even while it is damaging their relationships or other parts of their life.

There are disagreements over exactly how it should be labeled.

But here's the part that matters to me.

Whatever we call it, someone can genuinely have a serious problem with sexual behavior.

And that still doesn't erase what their partner experienced or is experiencing.

Those two things can exist together.

A man may truly be struggling.

His wife may also have been lied to repeatedly.

He may need help.

She may also be devastated.

He may have an explanation for his behavior.

She still has to live with what that behavior did to her.

I think sometimes we become so focused on understanding why somebody did something that we accidentally move right past what they did.

And women are especially good at this.

Give us enough information about why someone is struggling and some of us will have a clipboard out by Tuesday trying to coordinate their recovery.

Meanwhile, we're barely sleeping.

That's the part I don't want us to miss.

Somehow His Problem Can Become Her Full Time Job

I can imagine how quickly this could happen.

He tells her he has an addiction.

She starts reading about it.

Then she's looking for therapists.

She's checking his phone.

She's checking where he's been.

She's watching his mood.

She's wondering if he's telling the truth.

She's checking bank statements.

She's wondering whether he's talking to someone again.

She's trying to figure out what she should wear, what she should say, how often they should have sex, whether she's being supportive enough, whether she's being too angry, whether she's making recovery harder for him.

And suddenly his addiction has become her entire life.

That doesn't sit right with me.

Supporting someone isn't the same thing as managing them.

Loving someone isn't the same thing as supervising them.

And being married to someone doesn't automatically make you responsible for getting them well.

If he truly has a problem, then he has work to do.

Real work.

Not promises.

Not tears after being caught.

Not telling her she needs to trust him while continuing to hide things.

Not handing her his phone and making her his personal parole officer.

He has to decide that his life cannot continue this way.

She can't make that decision for him.

I Would Pay More Attention to What Happens Next

If I were talking to a woman in this situation, I don't think my first question would be, "Are you going to stay?"

That's a huge decision to ask somebody to make while her head is still spinning.

I think I'd be more interested in what happens next.

Does he take responsibility without blaming her?

Does he get professional help?

Does he become honest because he wants to change, or only honest when she finds more evidence?

Does he understand what his choices have done to her?

Is he willing to hear her anger without making himself the victim?

Is he doing the work when nobody is watching?

Because saying, "I have an addiction," and actually dealing with an addiction are two completely different things.

The words may explain something.

The actions afterward tell me much more.

And I think that's where I would have to keep bringing myself back.

Not to the promises.

Not to the apologies.

Not even to how badly he says he feels.

What is he actually doing?

She Still Gets to Have Boundaries

This is where women can get tangled up emotionally.

Because what if he really does have an addiction?

Then leaving might feel cruel.

Setting boundaries might feel unsupportive.

Being angry might feel unfair.

Wanting space might make her feel guilty.

But his struggle doesn't cancel her limits.

She gets to decide what she can live with.

She gets to decide what she can't.

She gets to say that continued lying changes things.

She gets to protect her health.

She gets to protect her money.

She gets to protect whatever emotional stability she has left.

She can require honesty.

She can take time.

She can seek support for herself.

And yes, she can leave.

A person doesn't lose the right to make decisions about her own life because somebody else is struggling.

That doesn't mean she has no compassion.

It means she exists in this relationship too.

Staying Isn't the Same Thing as Saving Him

I think this may be the hardest part.

When we love somebody, leaving them alone with their problem can feel almost unbearable.

We think:

What if he gets worse?

What if he needs me?

What if I leave right when he's finally ready to change?

What if walking away makes everything worse?

But then I have to ask another question.

What if staying is making me disappear?

Because there's a difference between standing beside someone who is doing the work and dragging someone toward a life they keep running away from.

I can support somebody.

I can listen.

I can encourage treatment.

I can acknowledge that addiction is complicated.

But I can't want recovery more than the person who needs it.

I can't spend every day preventing another grown adult from making choices that destroy our relationship.

At some point, his recovery has to become his responsibility.

Actually, it was his responsibility from the beginning.

And What About Her?

This is the question I kept coming back to after talking with this woman.

Everybody may eventually start talking about what he needs.

Treatment.

Support.

Understanding.

Accountability.

Recovery.

But I keep thinking about her.

What does she need?

Because she just learned something that changed the way she sees much of her marriage.

She may be angry one hour and heartbroken the next.

She may love him deeply and still feel sick when she looks at him.

She may want answers.

She may wish she had never found out.

She may want to save the marriage.

She may want to walk out the door.

She may not know yet.

And I think she deserves room not to know.

She doesn't have to make a lifetime decision while she's still trying to understand what happened yesterday.

Her first responsibility doesn't have to be deciding how to save him.

Maybe her first responsibility is listening to herself again and what she needs.

His Recovery Is His. Her Life Is Hers.

After thinking about all of this, that's where I've landed.

I can believe someone has a real problem and still believe the people hurt by that problem matter.

I can have compassion without handing someone unlimited access to me.

I can understand why something happened without agreeing to live through it again.

And I can love somebody without making myself responsible for whether they change.

If you're standing somewhere close to this right now, I won't tell you whether to stay or leave.

I don't know your marriage.

I don't know what happens behind your closed doors.

I don't know what you're ready for.

But I hope you remember that his need for help doesn't make your pain less important.

You are allowed to have questions.

You are allowed to take your time.

You are allowed to watch what he does instead of building your future around what he promises.

And while he's deciding what he's going to do about his life, you still get to decide what you want to do with yours.

You don't have to carry both.

And if you're somewhere in that darkness right now, I want you to know something I wish somebody had been able to tell me at 18.

There are people on the other side of a phone, a hospital door, a crisis center, a therapist or a conversation with someone who will take your feelings seriously.

Please give yourself the chance to reach one of them.

You can love someone and still decide that carrying their choices is too heavy.

Sometimes protecting your own life is the most honest answer you have.

#EvolvingWomanhood

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