If you’re reading this, you might know the pain and confusion that come with discovering your partner’s pornography or sex addiction. Maybe you feel isolated, ashamed, and overwhelmed from trying to make sense of it all. If any of this sounds familiar, I want you to know you’re not alone.

This may be triggering

Disclosure Day

We were married for a few years when I experienced my first disclosure. It was in the summer of 2010 when I accidentally stumbled across his massive stash of pornography. I knew he looked at it. It was a topic of way too many arguments in our home. We’d fight, he’d tell me he wouldn’t look anymore, and then I’d catch him again. Wash, rinse, repeat. That was us.

This time was a bit different though. This time I found evidence of an online affair. I didn’t tell him what I found for a few days because I was so floored. I needed time to process it all. Plus, I needed time to cool down.

Truthfully though, the last thing I wanted was a shouting match. We aren’t a couple that yells and screams, and I knew if I tried to talk to him right away, I’d be irrational. I wanted truth, not a war. But the truth didn’t come easily. Instead, it was dragged on.

I approached him semi-calmly that weekend. After denying it for a while, he finally admitted to an online affair. I was crushed. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking for all the details. Her name, how long it lasted, what kind of pictures they sent. Blah, blah, blah. It was terrible and I was totally confused. He’d been a good husband and father, how could he possibly cheat? He’d never given me a reason to suspect infidelity.

As I mulled it over in my head, I realized maybe that wasn’t quite true. He’d become distant and his pornography use was escalating. He was spending more time at work than at home. The signs had been there, but I’d ignored them.

I decided to stay with him. He promised no more pornography, no more cheating, but that affair changed me. My new best friend was hypervigilance. Every time he walked away from his computer, KABAM! I was right there. I checked to see if he looked at porn or emailed any more women.

I was obsessed with catching him. The beginnings of betrayal trauma were setting in, I was becoming addicted to his addiction. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, I was there, checking anything. I was almost disappointed I didn’t catch him. It was like I needed more proof that there was more to his story then what he’d led on.

I think maybe my instincts were trying to kick in, but I was so busy being hypervigilant that I was having a hard time distinguishing my paranoia from the actual truth. One part of me wanted to stop this obsessive checking while the other needed to continue the search. If you’re hypervigilant, please know it’s a normal part of the trauma you’ve been through.

In the winter of 2010, he wasn’t acting like himself. He seemed detached from the kids and me. When he left for his counseling appointment, I did a deep search on his computer and found more porn.

I was crushed again. I was also scared. I’d been frequenting a website about infidelity and a woman from there read my story. She emailed me and said she’d gone through the same thing I did: the excessive porn, the online affair, and the denial. Lots and lots of denial. She feared my husband was an addict. I adamantly disagreed.

I wanted to believe she was wrong. I wanted to bury my head in the sand again. But that wasn’t fair to the kids or me. I couldn’t ignore it, not again. I wondered if that meant another online affair too.

Over the course of the next week, he disclosed online affairs, video chats, phone calls, and lunch dates. It was brutal. It was only in hindsight that I understood the addiction caused his actions. But at that time, I was blindsided, and I felt like an idiot. How did I not know about all the things he’d done? And how did it escalate so quickly?

Each affair he disclosed was harder to listen to than the last. I thought my heart would never heal from his betrayals and for months I was barely able to function. I sank into a depression.

I’d never felt such a range of emotions in my life. One moment, I hated him. The next, I felt compassion. Then, I’d swing back to despising him again. It was an emotional roller coaster that I rode day after day. Moment after moment. I kept looking for the carnie so I could get off the damn ride already, but he was never there to help me off. Maybe he was on a smoke break.

Looking back over those first few years of our marriage, I was able to spot the red flags of his addiction. But I could only see them in retrospect. I felt naive for not recognizing them as they happened. I was embarrassed about what it took for me to acknowledge the truth.

And lemme tell you, there was a lot I missed. He always had a way of explaining things away, turning it around on me or completely denying I was seeing what I know I saw. Gaslighting at its finest. Yep, that was me. And I believed him. Because I thought I had no reason not to and it was easier to ignore it than face it.

If you’re someone who missed red flags along the way, don’t beat yourself up. Most of us do. I think it’s easier to hide the truth from ourselves than admit how off the rail’s things are with our partner and our relationship. If you’re someone who didn’t, I’m so grateful you are able to spot them! I think your journey to healing will be better for it.

There is a debate about disclosures and how much information the addict should share. Every counselor we’d been to told my husband to only provide what was necessary, like the general time frame, how many there were, if there was any physical contact, and if they used a condom (for safety/health purposes).

They insisted there was no need for me to know the nitty-gritty details. I disagreed. Adamantly. Ain’t nothing like a good ole guilt trip to get what I wanted back then. “What do you mean Dr. Blah said I shouldn’t get that information? Was Dr. Blah there when you were out doing so and so? No, I didn’t think so.” I didn’t need to be loud to be hurtful. Those details backfired on me. I should have listened to the people I paid to give me advice. They’d been trained in sex addiction and while I felt like I knew everything and what was best for me, I didn’t. I wasn’t even close. They’d been doing this for years. I’d been doing it for like five minutes.

I feel it’s also important to note that each person’s struggle will be different. My husband’s struggle began with pornography and progressed. Other people may only struggle with pornography while others may have issues with something else.

One of the mistakes I made is that I would read one thing about sex addiction and assume he had to have whatever it was that I just read like voyeurism or sleeping with people.

I learned the hard way that’s not the case at all. We’re all so different in this journey…but that’s also the cool thing about it too. We’ve got a lot of options to choose from to help us become stronger and healthier.