Avoiding the Shadows, Our Own and Others

Like Sally, I loved w abandon n adoration. But like this Sally👇🏼 I only loved t Linus tht I approved of. He is so much more. I must learn t love him just as he is, try t accept he IS learning,tht change is hard n to figure out how to trust him w my whole heart again💔 #sweetbaboo pic.twitter.com/aR3ZTSXeMh

— lovely little red poet (@lovelylittlere1) September 12, 2019

I was in my therapist's office, citing a laundry list of the ways in which my eldest daughter was making me crazy. Exasperated, I concluded with, "this isn't who she is. I'm not sure what happened to her but this isn't her."

To which my therapist, mother of two formerly teenage girls, responded, with a wry smile, "But it is."

Gulp. 
Of course it is. My daughter is not just made up of parts I like or approve of. She is a whole person who will not always behave or believe or respond in ways that suit me. 

I should have known this, of course. My husband, the one whose fidelity to me I would have staked my life on, had already blown open the myth that people are entirely made up of parts we see. Parts we like. Parts we approve.

And it's not just others. I have parts of myself I keep hidden. Since I was a pre-teen, just learning that "pretty" was currency, I've assessed every situation in terms of where I fit in on the "pretty" scale. I loathe that in myself. What self-respecting feminist does this? Uh...this one. 

But it's only by being conscious of that in myself that has allowed me to challenge it. It is only pulling these shameful parts of myself from the shadows that has provided me the opportunity to acknowledge how shallow it is. What a ridiculous metric it is. And that, ultimately, it reflects neither my worth nor anyone else's.
Being conscious. How many of us are? How many more of us are oblivious to the ways in which we point at others and sneer for exactly the characteristics or behaviour we loathe in ourselves? 
I have a friend, a 12-stepper, who does this exercise whenever she finds herself obsessing about someone for a transgression or a personality trait she hates. She writes the person's name at the top of page of a sheet of paper. Then she lists everything about that person that she hates. Every. Single. Thing. It's soooooo satisfying, right? All the ways in which this person deserves scorn. 
And then...
And then she crosses out that person's name and replaces it with her own. And lo and behold, so many – sometimes all! – of those same traits are exactly what she doesn't want to see in herself.
Gulp again.
"Cad" is a Twitter friend of mine, a repentant cheater whose dedication to excavating his sins is admirable, though I worry his self-loathing is becoming a lifestyle. 
A recent post on his site speaks to what "Poet", another Twitter friend whose tweet is posted above refers to. This desire to avoid others' shadows, which, of course, is really about avoiding our own. We wouldn't be so frightened of others' darkness if it didn't remind us of our own.
Which reminds me of another thing I've noticed recently, when I consider my approach to healing from infidelity alongside the "once a cheater, always a cheater" camp's. What I've noticed is that those of us who can't find compassion for others might want to start with ourselves. Only when we can truly let ourselves off the hook for being duped, for being trusting, for being loyal, for being played, for being...human, can we learn to truly extend that same compassion to others, no matter what they've done. You are not required to feel compassion for someone who's betrayed you. And it's certainly normal to feel rage and disgust and vengeance and deep hurt. 
But, though it might seem counter-intuitive, being able to extend compassion for others' dark sides, for those parts of themselves they kept hidden out of shame or fear or lack of awareness, releases the shackles we wear. It frees us to love the flawed person seeking to be better, or to wish them well while choosing to not have them in our lives. Either way, we're liberated.
It took me  a lot of years to acknowledge and accept those parts of myself I'd relegated to the shadows. Even now, there are things that pop up – a bias I have, or an ill-considered opinion – that makes me cringe. And surely there will be more. But what freedom it is to notice those things about myself, to challenge myself on them, and to still know that I'm worthy of being loved, of being in this world. So is my daughter, whether or not I agree with or approve of things she does. And so is everyone else.

Where did you learn to live on crumbs?

I was driving to my father's home the other day, with Esther Perel's Where Do We Begin on podcast. This episode focused on a gay couple, one partner had suffered an abusive childhood and considered himself a sex addict. Even in the wake of this partner's infidelity, the other partner wanted to learn from it and the two had recently married.
Perel spent considerable time encouraging the partner who'd experienced childhood abuse to mine his past, to really explore its connection to his difficulty accepting comfort from his new husband.
The husband, who longed to offer comfort to his traumatized partner, noted the other's "drama" and prided himself on being low-maintenance. "I don't need much," he said.
Which is when Perel said the words that, literally, made me stop the tape and take big gulps of oxygen.
Where did you learn to live on crumbs?
I've made no secret of my own childhood dysfunction. I've often shared how my mother's alcoholism created much shame in me and how my father's reliance on me turned me into a parent for him and led me to all variety of boy-men who lacked both the maturity and the emotional bandwidth for healthy relationships. They brought drama. I brought low maintenance.
But never had I heard what I learned from my childhood, and what I continued to allow, referred to as clearly and succinctly as "crumbs".
I'm asking you: Where did you learn to live on crumbs?
So many of us did, didn't we? So many of us, even putting aside the infidelity (that most of us didn't know about...until we did), overlooked his long hours at the office (he's working hard for his family), his TV watching (he deserves to relax after a long day/week), his hanging with the guys (he needs his friends), while we took on the bulk of the housework, the childcare, the care of parents, the day-in/day-out details that keep a house running. And I'm not saying that men don't work hard, deserve to relax, need friends with whom to have fun. But how often did we allow those things to our husbands while denying them to ourselves?
And how often did we accept behaviour in our husbands that wasn't ultimately healthy for us or for our family?
I barely noticed that I was accepting crumbs. I knew I felt angry a lot. I knew that when my husband would come up behind me to wrap his arms around me while I was at the sink doing dishes, I had to stop myself from jamming my elbow in his ribs. I didn't need a hug, I needed help with the god-damn dishes. Did I say that? Of course not. I chastised myself for not being more satisfied with what I had.
StillStanding1 did a great job with her recent post about the rage so many of us feel post-betrayal. But I want to extend that backward. How many of us felt it, on some level, before we learned about our partner's betrayal? How many of us are doubly (triply? quadruply?) angry about the betrayal because not only did he cheat on us but he cheated on us while we were at home doing everything. While we were sacrificing ourselves for the good of our family and barely being noticed for it?
That's a betrayal too, isn't it?
Of course it is. But maybe not in the way you think.
That was a betrayal of ourselves.
That was our acceptance of crumbs.
Where did you learn to live on crumbs?
Maybe it was from parents who expected you to swallow strong feelings and not rock the boat. Maybe it was from teachers who expected girls to be kind and nurturing and take turns and be polite and demure. Maybe it was from a culture that still recoils from angry women, no matter that we have plenty to be angry about.
Wherever it was, it's time for a new lesson.
It's time to reconsider what we've been willing to settle for and set out new terms for ourselves. No more crumbs. Let's ask for exactly what we want. If we've decided to stay in our marriage and rebuild, then there's no better time to make it abundantly clear to our spouse that the only way we can continue is if our needs and wants are acknowledged and respected. It's time to make some demands of our own – beginning with what every betrayed wife should demand (total transparency, access to his accounts/computers/etc), but including everything that we need to make our marriage more equitable and, ultimately, healthier for both.
Maybe you need him home more often, maybe you need him to deal with his toxic family instead of you doing that job. Maybe you need him to talk to you rather than turning on Netflix. Maybe you need help with childcare on weekends rather than him teeing off for 18 holes. Whatever it is, we need to ask for it. Settling for crumbs starves us emotionally.

Wives of Sex Addicts Group/Roseville, CA

Out of the Shadows

"The shadow self is not of itself evil; it just allows you to do evil without calling it evil."~Fr. Richard Rohr

It's not a coincidence that the seminal book on sex addiction is called Out of the Shadows, by Patrick Carnes. But not just sex addicts who know about living in the shadows – anyone who's living a secret knows.
Fr. Rohr is, of course, pointing to the shadow self, not just a life in the shadows. It's not the shadow self that's the problem, he argues, it's our refusal to acknowledge it. It's our insistence that it's not really there. In other words, it's our ability to convince ourselves that we're not doing anything wrong...all while doing something wrong. It's our ego that we need to do battle with, not our shadow.
This ego rears its head (and often roars) whenever we want to talk about our spouse's betrayal and they bark at us to stop "living in the past". The ego shows up to ensure that the shadow self can stay hidden, to allow our spouse to maintain the conviction that he didn't really do anything wrong. If he doesn't have to really acknowledge the consequences, it's far easier to minimize them.
But ego gets in our way too. Whenever we insist that we could "never" cheat ourselves. Whenever we refuse to admit that we just might be capable of inflicting the same pain on someone in certain circumstances. Whenever we're absolutely sure we're right, that's ego. And it stands between us and a deeper, richer relationship – not only with our spouses but with ourselves.
We all have a shadow self. None of us is free of one. The difference is between those who acknowledge it and those who deny it. Those who acknowledge it are able to shine a light on it, examine it, and thereby diminish its power. We see its tricks. We expose it as a charlatan. But it never completely vanishes.
Those who deny their shadow continue to make choices that hurt not only others but themselves. They continue to blame everybody else for the messes. They make the same mistakes and wonder why nothing changes for them. They vacillate between thinking they're better than everybody else and thinking they're worse – false arrogance and self-loathing.
The way out seems simple but requires enormous courage: Look at your own shadow self. Open your mind to the knowledge that we all have the potential to make huge mistakes, to hurt people we love. This isn't about letting people off the hook for the pain they've caused us, it's about letting ourselves off the hook. It's about realizing that we're all messy. It's about loving and accepting ourselves – our full selves – while no longer being tricked by our shadow selves. Or anyone else's.

When the Going Gets Tough...the Tough Get a Plan

Whether or not you're staying and working it out, headed straight for your divorce lawyer or are adopting a wait-and-see stance, chances are you're feeling pretty off-kilter right now. Even if you're 110% that you're doing the right thing for you, you'll no doubt be faced with some opposition from those around you who think that they – not you. definitely not you! – know what's best. And it's often in complete contrast to what YOU think is best.
Herewith your guide to surviving tough times and tough choices.

1. Don't expect it to feel good.
Sure I blab on about how you need to trust your instincts and blah blah honestly blah, but that doesn't mean it's going to feel good. You might recognize absolutely that your husband is incapable of honesty and commitment and that you simply can't get over his betrayal, but that doesn't mean you're going to skip out the door into a glorious new life. Chances are you'll weep. You'll wail. You'll rant and rage. Your in-laws might cast you as a demon. Your friends might criticize you for "giving up (especially those who feel stuck in miserable marriages!)." Your children might accuse you of ruining their life. And you might wonder if you really do know what's best for you.
Yes. You do. The right decision isn't always the easy decision. But it's still the right one. You'll know the difference deep down. Even if you doubt it now and then.

2. It's absolutely critical that you take care of yourself.
A diet of soda and crackers isn't going to give you the strength you need to stand up to the critics (even the critics that exist only in your head).
This is a tough one because so many of us view self-care as selfish. There's a big difference. Self-care insists that your needs are as important as everyone else's. Selfish insists that your needs are more important than everyone else's. Where it gets confusing is that sometimes we need to be selfish about self-care. We need to put everyone else's needs aside (help with homework, a drive to the mall, you get the idea....) in order to give ourselves what we need (a warm bath, a run, a dip into a good novel, coffee with a supportive friend...). Now, especially now, it's time to put self-care at the top of your to-do list. Treat yourself as kindly as would a friend going through a similar tough times.

3. A network of support can prop you up when you can't do it yourself.
Get thee to a 12-step group for spouses of sex addicts, join Surviving Infidelity (which in my estimation, is the best online support group, with moderation to keep comments in check), seek out a group for betrayed wives (or start one!), post here and join and the conversation. Confide in a trustworthy friend, get a good therapist, talk it over with your dog. You can't go this road alone without making it a whole lot longer and lonelier than it needs to be. The isolation associated with a spouse's betrayal was, for me, almost worst than the initial betrayal. I felt so desperately alone in my pain. You don't need to be. It's the main reason I started this site...

4. Know that this all takes time.
Three to five years is the generally accepted timeframe for healing from a spouse's betrayal. I can't emphasize enough how long this whole damn process takes. The good news is you won't feel lousy the whole time you're healing. You will feel better incrementally, with occasional steps backward just to keep you on your toes. Then one day you'll notice you haven't cried all day. Or for a few days. You'll notice that you don't jump at loud noises. That your stomach doesn't flip at the sight of certain vehicles, or the sounds of certain songs, or on certain days of the year.
You'll never forget this. It's woven into the story of your life. But it won't BE your life. That I promise.

Too Much Information? Or Not Enough...

Years ago, I heard an interview with Will and Jada Smith in which she teased him for his "crush" on Beyonce. Many were a bit aghast. And admittedly, it's not too often we see a wife tease her husband for having a crush on another woman. Berate him, perhaps. Ridicule him. Act hurt by it. But a good-natured tease?
The couple explained that they have total honesty in their marriage (I know, I know. They live in Hollywood...but I'm withholding skepticism!). They talked about how, if they find themselves attracted to someone else, they talk about it.
I was conflicted, at the time. As far as I knew, my husband had never cheated. As far as I believed, he'd never found another woman as attractive as I. (It's almost embarrassing to write that. How naive was I???) And frankly, if my husband did find another woman attractive, I'm not sure I wanted to know about it. After all, I figured, what could be gained by knowing that?
Now, however, I see things a bit differently. And I would want to know. In fact, it's something my husband and I have talked about. And though it kinda makes me squirm (his taste in women is...well...surprising. If I was a man, I'm not sure I'd find the women he likes at ALL attractive. However...vive la difference), I confess I feel "safer" having had the discussion.
Plenty of marriage experts back me up. And plenty others disagree.
The two schools of thought are thus.
#1: No secrets: This school of thought purports that ANY secrets in a marriage can lead to trouble. Lying, or lying by omission, can include anything such as how much money you really spent on a pair of shoes or about whether you'd like to curl up with someone other than your spouse.
I confess I find this a bit drastic. I'm not convinced that my husband needs to know EVERY thought that goes through  my head that might be construed as a potential threat...but perhaps it comes down to our own ability to recognize which notions are an actual threat...and which ones are harmless and should be kept under wraps. For example, I did confess to my husband that I was finding myself very attracted to another man. Ironically, that's what initially led us to couples counselling and THEN all the dirt about my husband's extracurriculars came out. But I knew that something was wrong in our marriage and I wasn't comfortable with how I was feeling about this other man...
#2: Judicious sharing: This school of thought maintains that there is such a thing as too much information. Sharing every time we're attracted to someone else can start to seem like manipulation or hurtful – a way to keep a spouse constantly off-balance. I've known couples who do this in the name of being "mature" and "open" but I've also been aware that on some level, it's really only one of them who's sharing the info and the other seems victimized. Perhaps it depends on the level of security both already feel in the relationship.
In any case, I do tend towards the first conviction – I'd rather err on the side of too much information than too little. Especially now that I know what I know...
What about you? If you remain married, do you want to hear every time your husband feels attracted to someone else? If your husband is a sex addict, do you want to know about it every time he feels a desire to act out? Or is that what sponsors and friends are for? Too much information? Or not enough...

Fair is Foul and Foul is Fair...

My nine-year-old son and I are currently reading the book Everything for A Dog by Ann M. Martin (of Babysitter's Club fame). We're big fans of animal stories and Martin tells a good one. I'm pissed, though, because one of the characters, after losing his older brother in an accident, loses his dog when a hunter accidentally shoots it. Stop, I want to scream (though that would freak out my son). This is fiction. You can control the level of pain any one character has to face. Losing a brother and watching his parents crumble is enough. Don't make the damn dog die, too. That's just not fair. 
My notion of fairness is something that has kept me pretty comfy for most of my life. Because my childhood sucked (alcoholic mother and father, suicide attempts by mother, mother's long-term stay in psych ward and all the various daily humiliations that life with alcoholic parents entails), I had decided that I'd paid my dues. Every now and again, I'd get uncomfortable at the reality that others had lost their entire families in the Holocaust, for example, or been raped and and murdered. But I tried not to think of the fact that those people's lives sucked more than mine and that, therefore, there might be more suckage to come in my own life. And instead, assured myself that my pain allotment had been used up and I could now look forward to a life of bliss and joy. Factor in my years of therapy, which I was sure all but guaranteed success: a great marriage to a guy who was NOT an alcoholic, three wonderful kids with a mom (me!!) who would NOT become an alcoholic and screw up their own childhoods. I had broken the cycle! Yeah for me.
And then...
Then I found out that my NON-alcoholic husband had another little addiction he was hiding. One that I'd never even considered, indeed didn't know existed. Sex. And he'd been hiding it my entire, otherwise perfect married life.
But that's not fair, I screamed. I've had my pain. I've endured having other people screw up my life. I was doing everything right, I thought. I had earned my happiness.
And while I was crumbling as quickly as my marriage built of cards, my career, at which I'd enjoyed considerable (and relatively easy) success, was also falling apart. As a writer, I need to actually show up to the page. I can't fake it. Either I've written something compelling by the end of the day...or I haven't. It's hard to write when you can't see the page through your tears.
And while I was working hard to remain upright for the better part of the day, the publishing underwent a seismic shift when the economy crashed. Magazines I worked for folded. TV production companies, which were wooing me for work, stopped buying new shows.
I loathe a pity party. I've spent my life desperately viewing the glass as half full (at least I have all my limbs! at least my father isn't George Bush! at least I'm not homeless!), even if I've had to really squint to see it that way. But every now and then, like today when I just got more bad news regarding a book project, I want to curl up in a ball and whisper, Enough.

On the Eve of Tiger's Press Conference...

The world waits... Or maybe just the gossip mags wait.

In any case, on the eve of Tiger's press conference (will Elin stand beside him? Will she put her wedding ring back on? Will her face be etched with pain? And blah blah blah), here is one of the most balanced, honest and realistic articles about sex addiction that I've read. And I'm not just saying that because I'm quoted at length. Really.

Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But...: How Much Do You Think You Need to Know?

I recently watched the movie Revolutionary Road (trigger alert: infidelity!), in which Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) confesses to his wife April (Kate Winslet) that he's "been with a girl a few times". While BWC members' responses range from "Who" to "When" to "Why"...most center on that last question. Frank attempts to answer by offering up the usual two-bit psychoanalysis of what might have driven him to have an affair, but April stops him short. "Not why did you do it," she says, but "why are you telling me?"
It's a fair question. She seems to not know nor suspect, though their marriage is fragile to say the least. Assuming Frank is honest in his desire to put his transgression behind him and to focus on his marriage, why did he tell her?
And, in hindsight, would you want to know? Or would you rather move forward together or apart without knowing the full truth of your relationship? Is that even possible?

Full Disclosure
If it's true that Tiger Woods is at a rehab center for sex addicts, one of the steps is full disclosure of his sexual acting out. In other words, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
I was offered the same process or rather I was told that I would be participating in the same process – complete with his and hers therapists to support both of us during the disclosure session.
I opted out. It struck me that it was sounding more like an ambush than a disclosure session, though one could argue it's just a matter of perspective. Byt hat point, I had asked – and received answers for – my most pressing questions. I had been tested, thankfully negative, for STDs, including HIV.
I didn't want to know any more. I felt shell-shocked and completely overwhelmed.
Experts insist that the disclosure process isn't to ram unwanted details down the betrayed wife's throat, but rather to put both spouses on the same page, metaphorically, so that they can move forward in their relationship equipped with the same information. Honesty, they argue, is critical to a healthy marriage.
I agree...but I think the betrayed wife should hold the controls. She should be the one to determine the questions, decide the level of detail and even define a schedule.
What do you think? Did you want to hear everything? Or "just the facts, ma'am". Can too much information create more problems? Or, if something is held back, might it re-emerge at a later date and create more problems?

Emotional Affairs: Innocent Until Proven Guilty?

It remains one of my life's little ironies that my husband and I sought marriage counselling because of my emotional affair, though I'd never heard that term before...and certainly didn't think it applied to me. I also had no idea of my husband's unemotional but highly physical affair(s) at that point. I simply knew that I'd met someone who had me swooning like a lovestruck teen...something that signalled danger to my marriage and my family. So off to counselling we went. Of course, my schoolgirl crush paled in comparison to news of my husband's double life: years of sex addiction.
Still, emotional affairs are dangerous – and controversial. I had always subscribed to the "doesn't matter where you get your appetite as long as you eat at home" school of thought. (And yes, I know that's a rather crude way of putting it. I have the sense of humor of a 17-year-old boy.)
 I often had small crushes on men in my life. They lasted a week or two then faded away when I noticed something unappealing, like hair growing out of his ears, a predilection for mass-market paperbacks, a lack of appreciation for my sophomoric wit... These mind-flings were harmless, I thought. It was my husband to whom I made love. My husband whose ear hair didn't bother me in the least. My husband whom I fell asleep beside and woke up huddled next to.
So...harmless, right? Not so fast.
Anyone whose spouse has been involved in an emotional affair -- defined as "meaningful attachments with people other than your partner in ways that prevent your partner from having that deep emotional intimacy with you."
And that last bit (emphasis mine) is, of course, the problem.
It seems harmless, so we carry on. And, if we were honest with ourselves (though we rarely are), we'd admit that we love the attention, the new-ness, the excitement of another person finding us interesting, attractive, worthy of time and attention...especially (but not always) if our own marriage was becoming a bit musty.
I now see how easily these fun little flirtations cross the line into threat. When we're thinking about someone who's not our spouse, when we're dedicating a lot of time and energy to someone who's not our spouse, even the best marriages can suffer.
I can look back and see that an aspect of the crushes I developed were a response to the emotional absence of my husband...who was, ahem, busy with his own issues. 
But the fact that I never acted on them has given me one less regret. One less mess to clean up. 
Emotional affair: Innocent...or guilty?
I know how I feel now,with the bitter taste of experience. What about you?

Arguing Over Addiction

I recently spoke with a reporter for The Daily Beast about sex addiction. Since the number of Tiger Woods' conquests seems to grow daily, many are speculating about whether he's a sex addict...or just a scumbag player.
The comments are scathing, with most falling on the "scumbag" side of the debate. And, frankly, I can understand why some dismiss the possibility of sex addiction.
For one thing, sex addiction has only recently become the celebrity curse-du-jour, with David Duchovny's admission and Dr. Drew creating a show around it. And sure, it can seem like a convenient excuse. "Gee, I would have liked to have said 'no' to the porn star, but I couldn't help myself because I'm a sex addict."
At least that's what those who dismiss sex addiction as a fad, or an excuse might suspect.
But the reality is hardly convenient. Or an excuse.
What a sex addict does is no less embarrassing to them if they admit to sex addiction. If anything, it's worse. Imagine the humiliation of going through a 12-step program for sex addiction (some of which don't allow masturbation...at all. Ever.). Imagine having to take a personal inventory of those you've hurt and make reparations. Think of how excruciating it must be to recount every encounter to your spouse (and yourself!) when you've spent most of your time convincing yourself that what you're doing isn't really hurting anyone.
Whether or not Tiger Woods is a sex addict, whether or not sex addiction makes it into the DSM-IV is of no consequence to those who use sex (or porn) in an unhealthy way. And most of the comments around sex addiction reveal not only a lack of compassion but a lack of understanding about addiction in general and sex addiction in particular.
Adultery sucks. Doesn't matter much why our spouses cheated on us...in the end we expect them to take responsibility for what they did. And sex addiction offers up nothing to hide behind, but rather a label that they will carry with them forward.

Sex Addiction: Is that why your husband cheated?

It took six months, following the initial discovery of my husband's affair, for him to confess the truth. It wasn't just one affair...it was dozens. He was, he confessed, a sex addict.
The night my husband told me, he curled up on the floor in the fetal position, sobbing. He told me that I was disgusted with him and that he'd leave.
The truth is I was relieved. Relieved because the missing piece was finally there to complete the puzzle I'd been agonizing over. "Why, why, why...?". I suddenly got it. While I wasn't exactly happy with this revelation, it gave me something I could understand. His affair had always baffled me. He'd chosen someone nasty, troubled and unattractive, inside and out. When I learned that their relationship wasn't really a relationship at all but a transaction...well, I could begin to let go of the questions that had plagued me.
But that was only the start.
My husband had already been working with a counsellor that specialized in sex addiction. Though he wasn't a CSAT (certified sex addiction therapist), he was responsible for setting up a number of sex addiction treatment centers and was a recovered sex addict himself.
We spoke with him immediately and he gave me a quick Sex Addiction 101 chat. "Don't ask yourself what those women have that you don't," he advised me. "What they have, you don't want. They're very troubled people."
He explained to me that sex addiction is perhaps better termed an "intimacy disorder." The emphasis isn't on sex at all, really, but on the sex act as self-medicating. Most addicts use it to numb emotional pain, loneliness, anxiety. They turn to it the same way an alcoholic turns to a drink. But when the act is over, the addict can be overwhelmed with feelings of shame, guilt, self-loathing...which often leads to promises of abstinence, further acting out...and the cycle repeats.
I am, by no means, an expert. I am, however, someone with a front-row seat as this addiction is being wrestled with.
Today, Oprah, together with Dr. Drew Pinsky (he of Celebrity Rehab fame), are tackling the issue of sex addiction. Dr. Drew's new VH1 Show is Sex Rehab...and my fingers are tightly crossed that it doesn't become voyeuristic, but rather shows the gritty, sad side of an issue that too often becomes joked about.
I continue to learn. It has been extraordinarily painful. It's even tougher, I believe, to heal from an affair when your spouse is often so busy beating back his own demons that he has little time for your own angst.
However, I remain hopeful that the day will come when we will be able to talk about sex addiction in the same manner as other addictions – that the cloak of shame will be lifted.

Sex addiction is a genuine problem...not just titillating headlines

A Playboy playmate recently revealed on television that she's a recovering sex addict, according to a piece in Huffington Post. I read this with trepidation, betrayal having led me to learn more about sex addiction than I ever dreamed. In fact, I, like many people, assumed sex addiction and sex fanatic were pretty much the same thing – someone who loved sex. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, I figured. Sex was good. It was healthy. Between consenting adults, what the heck was the problem?
The comments section of the HuffPo post confirmed this view, including one from a guy suggesting that he could take care of her problem. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Jeez, guys can be such sophomoric asses sometimes...but, oops, I digress.
The problem, as it turns out, is that sex addiction is nothing remotely fun or free-spirited or healthy. It's a life of shame, self-loathing and such detachment from intimacy that relationships become reduced to transactions. While there's no definitive path (some sex addicts indulge in porn, others engage in physical sex acts, some masturbate compulsively alone, others become voyeurs), most share similar backgrounds and a lack of healthy coping mechanisms.
So why be uncomfortable with the playmate's disclosure? My fear is that it feeds society's fascination with sex – addiction simply being one more branch on the tree. It becomes something that's viewed as "liberated" or "free-thinking". It's in keeping with people's assumption that it's about gorgeous playmates, wild orgies... The truth is far less titillating. Like any addiction, it destroys lives, marriages, families, careers.
But, like any addiction, it can be wrestled to the ground...with insight, commitment and hard work.
If you suspect your husband's infidelity is the result of sex addiction, please take a look at the Web site of Dr. Patrick Carnes, a pioneer in the field of sex addiction research and treatment. It's excruciating to face -- for both the addict and his family – but even more excruciating is to live the life of an addict.