My Fiancé’s Porn Habit: Should I Stay or Should He Go?
By Jen*
Prodigals International
Partners in Process Group Member
We were a month away from our wedding, doing a pre-marital workbook together, when Chad* told me his 20-year-old secret: he struggled with porn. I was heartbroken and devastated.
I felt like my whole world was falling out from under me. I had thought that we knew everything about each other (or at least everything big!). We are both Christians, and this was out of line with everything we had discussed. My trust in everything was called into question and I felt shattered. I called my closest friend at an insane hour and, between uncontrollable sobs, told her how I didn’t think I could stay with him. I really believed I was in love with him, and now I didn’t know how I ever thought I had known him. The pain was searing. I screamed into the night and then I cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I woke up, wishing it had all been a nightmare.
In those early moments, I chose to stay in the relationship because I recognized the gravity of his double life, and that his honesty was an important first step to breaking out of it. I didn’t want the first reaction he received after reaching out to be withdrawal.
I loved him enough to want him to be free.
One thing that really helped us both in those early days was my fiancé’s courage to disclose to a pastor and the leadership of the ministry that he was involved with at the time. There, he immediately found men who responded in love and support (the kind that includes accountability and an agreement to stand by him through recovery). It took us more than a month to connect with a qualified counsellor, so in those early days, this group was his main support.
Somehow, amidst everything, I realized that his telling me the truth was the most costly, loving thing he had done. It didn’t make sense to me to walk away now. We were honest with each other in those early days about how we didn’t know what the future would hold for us, either separately or together. We postponed the wedding.
I had a feeling that time would tell me more about what this road would be like, and I was determined not to make a life decision ignorantly. I knew that, if I were to stay, I had to put the work in, so I read everything I could. I learned that he was facing addiction and I was facing trauma.
I became convinced that I would have to do recovery work whether I stayed or not. It seemed like we might as well do the recovery work alongside each other for as long as we could. My fiancé entered sobriety and never looked back; from early on, I could see these changes in his actions. At some point, I realized that I would be really sad to miss out on seeing the rest of Jesus’ work in his life. So, against all odds, my desire was still there, and I was pretty sure God’s calling, that we had discerned before, had not changed, despite the roller coaster of emotions we had both been through. We steadily continued praying together and, with our counsellors, decided a new date for our wedding. We were both conscious of how much work we would have to put in.
What was hard:
I was brought face-to-face with my judgmental, fearful self. Younger me had always looked at women – who stayed in relationships where there had been infidelity – as weak and shameful. I created distance between myself and this possibility in my mind by treating it as black and white. Now, here I was, realizing how strong I had to be to stay, to hope, and to face my fear of shame. My categorical defense had to be eroded with empathy as my ideas were challenged. At the same time, to keep going in the relationship, I had to accept that there were reasons I would choose to end a future marriage (like unrepentant infidelity). I had to honestly evaluate if this risk felt too high for me. I realized that there are far more men struggling with porn than there are untouched by it. I realized that I was willing to stand by a man who is in honest recovery. I really knew that only God could equip me with the strength to feel that way.
I felt the shaky ground of not knowing what was true. My fiancé’s addiction started in childhood in response to a lot of uncertainty, and was so consolidated by the time he met me, that it was impossible for him to remember everything he did to protect his double life. In the months afterward, I would remember when he had said this or did that, and feel the shaky ground of not knowing what was true. He patiently helped me understand the reality as we uncovered the past, even when it was really hard. I received a couple of additional disclosures in the days and months to come. It was hard information to swallow, but it was all from the past. I had read, that while my husband was in recovery, he could uncover things that he had hidden deep down. We were able to face it together.
Upon the advice of our counsellors, we did not disclose everything to everyone. I really struggled with feeling inauthentic in my relationships with friends and family. I had previously enjoyed being a very open person, and these new boundaries were hard for me to keep. I knew the value was to have time to recover, but I also really felt the cost. I struggled with feeling responsible, not for what happened in the past, but for how people might think of me if they knew. The false guilt which came from my people-pleasing part was shushed when Chad pointed out to me that we had been honest in recovery before God and spiritual leadership. We were not covering anything up; we were creating space to heal according to the advice of professionals. I accepted that staying with him was part of supporting his recovery, not his past behavior. I’m still working on not letting people judge me in my imagination.
I did not feel like myself for a long time. After the excruciating pain, a numbness set in which I still struggle with at times. I had nightmares and was easily triggered whenever sexual sin hit the news (which is often.) During the times that felt chaotic, I made choices based on how I knew the past me would act. There were times when I felt limited in how I could respond or feel about my choices, so being consistent with how I knew myself to be, and especially how I had known God to be, really helped me.
What was good:
We had the space we needed to enter recovery and to make decisions which allowed us to honor our need for safety. I was humbled. Before disclosure, I kind of thought that I had it all figured out. I was following Jesus in the big ways, but I had somehow grown out of depending on Him for every little thing. After D-Day (“Disclosure Day”), I knew my weakness. I felt like I identified more with the suffering Christ, who hung on that tree so that we could be saved from all that was wrong in us. I saw a purpose in my pain as I learned to love my fiancé as God did, blinders off, and received love as a very broken human. Even as I continue to pursue emotional healing from betrayal trauma, I know that Jesus is with me, and never left me. I know that the Spirit empowered my fiancé to disclose to me when he did, and orchestrated his recovery. In His great mercy, He also allowed me to choose marriage knowing everything, because He knows me and He knew what I needed. Whatever life holds, I know that He is with me.
My husband has a new life now. His addiction started because he was coping with family dysfunction and trying to care for himself from a young age. He continues to work through past hurts. He has learned to trust others more. His faith now speaks into every part of his life. He acknowledges my pain and at the same time, expresses gratefulness that I was the first person he was able to tell.
My friend was the one who encouraged me that first night. She said I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. She knew me and believed I was strong enough and wise enough to face this. She held onto Christ’s redemption for my fiancé and me in a moment when I was blinded by fear. She created honor for the position of partner through recovery when I was clouded with pain and prejudice. If you are finding yourself on this road of recovery, my prayer is that you make friends along the way who are like this. May we be the holders of hope for one another, whether the best choice is to stay or to go.
My husband and I are in the early years of our marriage now.
We love each other a lot. Recovery is not an easy road. Sometimes, I’m full of fear and doubt, but my husband and I have learned to face it all together, relying on Christ, and when we do, I know that we are stronger. Ours is not a perfect story (I don’t think those exist anymore!) but I would choose it all over again. I can see Jesus’ redemption in both of us, so I know we have much to celebrate.