sex & love addiction.

I strive to be transparent in my own life, to better serve others. I also think that transparency is a good way to genuinely attract an audience that you can better serve through life coaching. Part of this describes my "Toxic Heart Coach" name, and my desire to help women with believing in their self-worth.

Sex and love addiction is a real thing, contrary to some beliefs. I spent part of my life with somebody who was diagnosed, and even did an inpatient rehabilitation stint for the sickness. Initially he was charming, and he was a military guy. I believed that I was so incredibly lucky. I am sure I had some of my own issues, as I walked right into the relationship with googly eyes.

I learned about his problems early on, but I thought it was commendable that he was seeking help via the inpatient treatment. I mean, c'mon, how many douchebags run around and get away with lying, cheating, and other secrets, and cannot even admit to their issues let alone seek assistance? I even had a verbal warning from an ex, and I later believed the "story" that she was psychotic. I was also a long-time single prior, had my own place and good friends, I had recently graduated college, and I was actively pursuing big career dreams. I mean, how could someone like me fall into something so toxic? I was living the formula of a healthy and independent gal. So, I was going to be "the one." The one that was worth this person to change and maybe show them they can do better in life as well.

I thought it was all okay. Silly me. These are all toxic thoughts with a capital "T."

In a naive manner, I continued on with the relationship. It was an adventurous relationship. We never fought, we enjoyed similar recreational activities, and we had a lot of fun. That portion was gravy, in the compartmentalized sense. I believe it is part of the reason why it lasted as long as it did.

However, reality would soon pour in. A couple of months in, I was online, and I stumbled across something that changed everything. I found him on a dating site. A part of me died. This was genuinely out of the blue [per se]. He was slipping, and I had zero knowledge or warning. It was his secret. Post confrontation, he disappeared out of defeat [in that perfect addict way] and came back later in tears. My heart was unfortunately big, and we "discussed" the issue, trying to move on. It will never happen again, right?

The next few months welcomed all sorts of game-changers. The dating sites were still things [not knowing if there were actual meetings or conversations that stemmed from them], random females were getting added to Facebook, and other similar happenings. One early morning, I casually picked up his cellphone, and up popped a text message from a coworker entailing a half-naked body shot from her bathroom. Classy. This all started the downward spiral. Actions were being taken offline, and into our real physical lives. Not that ANY online shenanigans should be accepted, but denial is a funny thing, and it happens to the best of us. I am even sure it was not the first time, but it was my first discovery of it. Oh, delicious ambiguity.

For some reason, I kept forgiving and forgiving. Maybe because of how slowly it was unraveling, maybe not. I am pretty sure by that point, I had better Internet/background research skills than the FBI. No joke. I would make a fab PI now. The aforementioned is funny, but it was also becoming even more unhealthy for me. I became more of a babysitter than a respectable partner.

We tried church and building our realtionship with faith, SLAA meetings, and Celebrate Recovery meetings. You name it, it was tried. Still, slippery slopes and actual slips accompanied these ventures. He eventually ignored his sponsor, and even lied to those meeting peoples about his sobriety. Everything that we could put in place to give me hope, was diminishing before my eyes.

FINALLY. A cross-country move happened. This time frame would bring the end of it all. The straw that did it for me... I was lied about where he was going. A late night at work turned into a bar with "friends." Then, that became a one-night stand with a local waitress. If I never got that gut "feeling," and investigated, I would have never known about it. I was even told later [for once, a little honesty] that he would probably not have admitted it. I was DONE. My heart was ripped out of my chest. We had a toddler, and we were discussing marriage. That day, I lost it all. Yes, that was my deal-breaker and I called the game, but it does not mean it hurt any less.

Boundaries are a great thing to have in place, but they are not worth much if you are not acting on them. Stretched boundaries are really a joke. Set them, and do not sway from them; even though it is hard as hell.

Even though I knew of the situation, I really did not know what it entailed. It is a serious thing, and you really have to separate how you feel about your partner from the reality of their actions. Recovery is super possible, but there is a difference between active recovery and constant relapses accompanied with wishful thinking. These people really need help, and unfortunately, you cannot help them. It is cliche to say, but believe it when people say that they need to want the help themselves. They need to care about themselves enough to seek that help. It is their problem, not your's.

Now, a year and a half later, I am still using my learned tools. It is NOT easy. Learning to trust again is HARD. Like, mad hard. I do not regret my decision one bit. It is certainly a journey!

Hope the read helped anyone in any way!

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