I wish I never learned this topic by heart. But I did. I lived it. I still live parts of it. And I’m going to tell you what it felt like, what worked, what didn’t, and what I’d do again.
You know what? It’s messy. But you’re not crazy.
If you’d like to compare notes with another spouse who’s walked this same path, this candid wives of porn addicts review resonated deeply with me.
The night my stomach dropped
It was 2 a.m. He was “working late.” I went to grab his laptop to pay a bill. Tabs were open. So many. My hands shook. My throat went dry, like I’d swallowed sand. I felt small, like I was shrinking on our kitchen floor.
I asked, “What is this?” He said it’s nothing. Then said it’s stress. Then said it’s been years. My heart broke three times in ten minutes.
I made coffee at 3 a.m. I put in too much creamer. I sat on the tile because the chair felt too formal for a moment like that. Wild, right? But that’s where I was.
What it felt like inside my body
- My chest buzzed, like a phone on silent.
- My brain ran in circles: Am I not enough? Is this my fault?
- I checked my face in the mirror too much. I compared. I lost sleep and forgot meals. Not smart, but real.
I felt embarrassed at church. I felt angry in the car. I cried in the shower so the kids wouldn’t hear.
Real-life examples that still stick
- The garage phone: He kept a second phone “for work.” I found it next to the rake. My hands smelled like dust and rubber, and I still remember that more than what I read on the screen.
- The hotel relapse: On a trip, he said he was “good.” The next morning he was cold and weird. I knew. We ate eggs in silence. I pushed food around my plate. Later he admitted it. I went for a long walk and counted red cars to calm down.
- The budget leak: Thirty-two dollars on a site. Tiny charge. It felt louder than a fire alarm to me.
- The lie that broke me: “I’ve stopped.” He hadn’t. After that, I moved to the guest room for a bit. Not to punish. To breathe.
What helped (for me, not a one-size thing)
- Boundaries, not threats: I said, “I will not share a bed when there’s lying.” Clear. Simple. Calm. Then I followed through.
- A therapist for me: I found a trauma-informed counselor. She taught me about triggers, grounding, and how my body tries to keep me safe. We did slow breathing. We named my feelings. I didn’t think naming feelings worked. Turns out, it does.
- A partner support group: I tried S-Anon. I sat in the back and said nothing for three weeks. Then I spoke. I felt less alone.
- Accountability tools (mixed bag): We tried Covenant Eyes. It helped some, but he found work-arounds. We switched to Canopy. Better for us, but still not magic. Apps are like seat belts. Good to have, but they don’t drive the car.
- A disclosure plan: With a therapist, he wrote what happened. Not every detail. Facts. Dates. Patterns. It hurt. It also ended the guessing game.
- A small “safety plan” for me: When triggered, I texted a friend a code word (I used “peach”—long story). Then I took a walk, drank water, and did 5-4-3-2-1 grounding. Cheesy? Maybe. Effective? Yes.
For spouse-specific action steps, you can skim How I Helped My Husband with Porn Addiction.
For a detailed breakdown of which approaches actually moved the needle for someone else, read My Husband’s Porn Addiction: What Helped, What Hurt.
What didn’t help (and I won’t repeat)
- Snooping all night: I became a detective. It ate my sleep and my peace. I set a rule: device checks with him present, at set times, or not at all.
- “Just have more sex” advice: A pastor said that once. I smiled. Then I went home and cried. Sex isn’t a bandage for betrayal. Safety comes first.
- Forgive and forget too fast: I tried to rush it because I hate conflict. Forgiveness isn’t a switch. It’s more like laundry. You keep doing it, gently, when you’re ready.
- Couples therapy too early: We tried it while lies were still active. It felt like building on sand. Individual work first. Then together, later.
Day-to-day life stuff that steadied me
- Food and sleep: I kept nuts in my bag and a bedtime alarm. When I eat and rest, I think clearer. Simple. Not easy.
- Phone rules: No devices in the bathroom. Chargers in the kitchen. Screen time during daylight if possible. Not perfect. Better.
- Money clarity: Shared accounts. Monthly look-ins. Not to police. To feel safe.
- A tiny joy: I kept a plant by the sink. I watered it each morning. Sounds silly. It was a small green “I’m still here.”
If you’re wondering, “Do I stay?”
I asked myself that a hundred times. I gave myself permission to choose, and to re-choose. I stayed—for now—because I saw honest work, real change, and time. If that stops, my plan changes. That’s not a threat. That’s respect for my own life.
You get to choose too. Leaving isn’t failure. Staying isn’t weakness. Both can be brave. Hearing from someone who chose to end the marriage in I Divorced a Porn Addict: My Honest Take also helped me see the full spectrum of options.
Some readers who eventually decide to separate ask me how to step back into dating without jumping straight into another heavy commitment. I usually point them to FuckBuddies because it offers discreet profiles, consent-focused guidelines, and an easy way to explore light, no-strings connections while you rebuild trust in yourself at your own pace. For folks who happen to live near Alvin, Texas and want something even more geographically specific, browsing the local listings on Backpage Alvin can introduce you to nearby, low-pressure meet-ups, giving you a quick sense of the casual-dating scene close to home without revealing more personal information than you’re comfortable sharing.
My quick review of tools I actually used
Before I dive into the ratings below, I also scanned Wild Porn Reviews for candid breakdowns of various recovery tools, which helped me set realistic expectations.
- Trauma-informed therapist for me: 10/10 — Saved my sanity.
- S-Anon meetings: 9/10 — Slow at first. Then a lifeline.
- Accountability app (Covenant Eyes): 6/10 — Helped some; work-arounds were a pain.
- Accountability app (Canopy): 8/10 — Stronger filters; still not a cure.
- Fortify app for him: 7/10 — Good education, better with therapy.
- Book: Boundaries (Cloud & Townsend): 9/10 — Clear and kind.
- Book: The Body Keeps the Score: 7/10 — Helpful, a bit heavy; I read it in small bites.
- Couples therapy after 90 days of honesty: 7/10 — Worth it later, not early.
How I talk to myself now
- I didn’t cause it.
- I can’t control it.
- I won’t carry it alone.
I still have sad days. I also have mornings with sun on the table and a calm cup of coffee. Both are true. People can change. And trust can grow back slow, like a scar that fades but never fully leaves. That’s okay. Scars can mean you healed.
Final take
Being the wife of a porn addict felt like living in fog. Then the fog got patchy. Now, some days are clear. I learned to hold my own hand. I learned to ask for help. I learned that my “no” is as holy as my “yes.”
If you’re here, breathing through it, you’re not weak. You’re human. Take the next small step that keeps you safe and sane. Then the next one after that.