Sex Addiction: Can I Forgive My Cheating Husband?

According to Saed News, citing Fararu, BBC journalist Sangita Myska has met with several people who have been harmed by sex addiction. One of them is a woman who, 20 years into her marriage, accidentally discovered that her husband was living a secret life. The following is an edited version of her story.

I always thought I had a completely ordinary married life. We had been together for years before marriage and then lived together for decades, raising children. My husband was a successful businessman who frequently traveled for work, while I spent much of my time raising the children and managing our home. On weekends, he stayed at home, and everything seemed normal. He always appeared happy to be with the family, and I had never noticed the slightest sign that anything was wrong.

One day, I went to his desk to find something and noticed that his laptop was still open. I had never checked it before, but his email inbox was visible. I saw an email confirming a hotel reservation in London for the day after I was supposed to travel with my friends. I thought, “That’s strange—why would he book a hotel room?” It felt odd, but I didn’t understand why.

I sat in a corner all day thinking about it. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking, and I couldn’t sleep. Eventually, I gathered the courage to ask him why he had booked the hotel. He didn’t answer.

His silence told me something was seriously wrong. Half an hour passed, but it felt like only a few minutes. I went up to him and said, “What is going on?”

I don’t remember his exact words, but he said he was sorry and admitted he had been meeting someone else. At some point during the conversation, I got up, put on my clothes, and went downstairs. I couldn’t stay in the same room as him, and I started crying.

Eventually, he came downstairs, sat in front of me, and apologized again. He said he had met a dancer and had booked the hotel room to spend time with her and take the relationship further.

I wanted to believe him. I really wanted to. I was deeply upset, but a small part of me thought, “Maybe we can fix this. He’s a middle-aged man who made a mistake. Maybe we can move past it.”

Because my friends strongly encouraged me to join them on a women’s weekend trip, I decided that a few days away might help me clear my mind.

I didn’t tell anyone. I wanted to keep it to myself. I went through several very difficult days. I couldn’t sleep properly, I couldn’t eat, and I don’t even know how I got through that time.

When I returned home, we talked a lot, and I cried most of the time.

But I always felt uneasy about the coincidence of seeing the hotel booking email just before the sexual encounter. It didn’t feel like something that could easily be dismissed.

So I insisted that he look me in the eyes and tell me he had not been with that woman—something he could not do. This was about two or three weeks after I had first seen the email. Then he admitted that he had had a sexual relationship, and that it had lasted weeks, maybe even months.

I was staring at the man I had believed I had known for years: How had he managed to hide this? How had I not noticed something was wrong?

The turning point came one day when we were out walking. I told him, “I need to know everything. I feel overwhelmed because I don’t know the full truth.” I threatened to check all his bank accounts and emails. I said I needed honesty.

He looked at me and said, “Are you sure you want to go that far?” For a moment, I wanted to say, “No—maybe there are things I’m not ready to hear.” But I didn’t realize then how much worse the truth would be.

He admitted that during our marriage he had been with sex workers. He also said he had been watching pornography for long periods, sometimes for hours at a time, and that during his business trips he had visited strip clubs, sex clubs, and adult cinemas.

I told no one. A couple of friends noticed I had become quieter and asked if I was okay, but I always made excuses. I said I was tired, hadn’t slept well, or that my mother wasn’t feeling well.

I felt ashamed of what had happened. I was afraid of how people would react if I told them. I thought they would judge our marriage and see it as shameful. I also felt that people would think I was not attractive enough or good enough for him.

I had always been a confident person. I wasn’t someone who spent every week on beauty treatments or cosmetic procedures. I was a middle-aged woman with a bit of weight gain, aging naturally with wrinkles. But this situation destroyed my confidence. I started questioning whether I was someone others could enjoy being with.

I began wearing more makeup, trying harder to look better. I lost weight, stopped eating freely, bought more clothes, went to the hairdresser more often, and even had a bit of Botox.

At the same time, I believed my husband had a psychological problem. I thought he was ill and needed help, and that I should support him.

When I visited a clinic and they suggested his behavior might indicate sex addiction, I accepted it. I told myself, “Fine. He is ill. He has a problem.”

I wanted to believe this because it helped me think, “I couldn’t have prevented this. These things just happen.”

But later, after returning from therapy, he said he wasn’t sure he agreed with the idea that he was a sex addict.

During couples counseling, I still remember him saying that before I discovered the truth, his life felt like a dark tunnel filled with secrecy and lies, and now he could see light at the end of it.

I remember looking at him and saying, “Good for you. But I’m the one living in total darkness now. Everything is unclear, and I’m the one carrying the burden of secrecy because I can’t tell anyone.” It felt deeply unfair.

I don’t want to talk about this with people because I don’t want to be judged.

In many ways, our marriage has improved. Perhaps it is not wise to say this, but we have been attending marriage counseling for months. We are more open with each other now and talk more—not just about daily life, but about our emotions, both good and bad.

I still feel low sometimes, but most of the time I tell myself that both my marriage and my emotions have reached a kind of balance.

Can I forgive him? I have spoken with counselors about this, and I don’t even know what forgiveness means. I don’t think I will ever fully forgive him for the harm he caused, but I want to stay with him, and I love him. Life with him is good. Is that forgiveness? I don’t know.

In the end, we are happy to be together. We are good friends. I love him, and he has assured me that he still loves me too.

I also deeply fear that our children might find out. I don’t want them to lose respect for their father. My family admires him, and if you met him, you would never believe he was capable of such behavior.

He was the last person I ever thought would do something so destructive.