Porn Addiction in Partnership: A Path to Healing and Connection

We were just having a really nice chat in the pool. My friend had introduced me to her girlfriends, and they were curious about what I do. When I'm surrounded by women and explain that I help men and couples with sexuality and relationships, it’s almost impossible not to get some strong reactions or, at the very least, one story that someone wants to share for insight or inspiration.

This conversation was no exception.

"I'm so happy to learn that you work with men," one of the women said. She paused for a while, as if gathering her thoughts. "My daughter and her husband haven’t had sex in a while. For years, he’s been struggling with a porn addiction, and it’s deeply hurt her. She doesn’t feel desired anymore."

I could sense her wisdom and awareness in the way she spoke. It was evident that she was close to both of them and had been trying to help for a while.

 I also noticed the faces of the other women around us. A look of discomfort, even disapproval, started to spread. It's easy for us as women to automatically side with the woman in the story, especially when we have been there and we can relate with their pain. 

“What happened to him?” I asked. “What happened just before he started using porn?” She closed her eyes, nodding slowly. Her pain was palpable, but there was also a sense of quiet acknowledgment, as if she were saying, “I always knew these two things were related.”

We all know, deep down, but sometimes, it takes distance to see more clearly. 

She proceeded to share a deeply tragic and violent event that her son-in-law had experienced. It was disturbing, I won’t even go into the details. All the women were horrified. We could feel the weight of the pain he had lived through. If we were horrified just by hearing the story, can you imagine how he felt living it?

Suddenly, he was no longer just the husband who uses porn. He became a human being who had experienced unimaginable pain. We released our initial feelings of offense and came back to a place of empathy, compassion and curiosity. We all let our guards down and opened our hearts to him, his experience, and his family. It is hard to explain how beautiful is to witness a woman softening.

After such a brutal experience, the nervous system becomes dysregulated. This man didn’t have access to any kind of therapeutic support, so he had to cope with this trauma on his own—like most men do—burying it deep inside. We can try to make these things disappear, but they don’t. The nervous system needs to complete the stress cycle, which is done by allowing emotions to flow through the body and truly feel them. When emotions are too intense, our natural wisdom tries to shut them down, or numb them. This is often when we turn to ways of distracting ourselves or trying to regulate our nervous system through addictive cycles.

We all do this. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s simply how we operate when we’re overwhelmed. It's just human.

After explaining this, I said, “Porn was his refuge.”

“See,” I continued, “he could have chosen alcohol or drugs, which are more common in your country, but he chose porn. Most likely, he saw it as a way to numb himself with less impact on his family.”

The women in the group placed their hands on their hearts or throats. The energy in the space shifted. There was deep empathy and understanding in the room, and we were all grateful for her courage to share. We had just bonded over a shared human experience.

“I always knew he was a good man,” she said, tears falling down her cheeks. We all stood there in silence, honoring the depth of what this family had been through.

We used to do this.

Women, sitting by a river or a lake, maybe washing clothes, opening their hearts to each other. Listening deeply.  If someone in the circle had wisdom to offer or comfort to give, they would share it.

Everyone involved would benefit — and the whole community would grow stronger as a result.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about this.

 The rise of therapy over the past few decades isn't just a reflection of the growing struggles people face; it’s also a reflection of the lack of community and the isolation in which we live.

I want to share with you something many men have confided to me when they find themselves in situations like this:

 It often feels like the message they receive is — 

"Get your issues out of here. Pay someone you don't know. Tell them how you feel so they can deal with it. Get it fixed. Be normal. Behave as a husband should behave, because your struggle is making me extremely uncomfortable."

Do they feel understood? No. 

Do they feel empathy? No. 

Do they feel loved? No. 

Do they feel supported? No.

They often feel pushed away, carrying a silent weight of shame around not being “normal.” 

Many of them don’t have access to therapy. Some don’t believe in it. Others try — and most of them (in my experience) hate it. And I want to share with you why.

Modern Western psychology, coaching, and self-help literature tend to be dualistic by nature. They divide our human experiences into categories like healthy or unhealthy, regulated or dysregulated, right or wrong. They also promote individualism: protect yourself, make sure your needs are being met, guard your heart. This framework makes it almost impossible to do what we all did that afternoon at the pool: to sit together, open our hearts, and listen with compassion and curiosity.

Instead of healing, what often happens is this: two adults sitting across from each other, both hurting, both misunderstood — with a coach or a therapist behind them telling them they are either justified in feeling offended or broken for behaving the way they do. More often, the first message goes to the woman. The second, to the man. I’ve witnessed this so many times. The division. The loneliness.

Therapy (whether traditional, alternative, counseling, coaching — whatever the name) can offer support, yes. But it can only go so far. It will never replace what true love, real compassion, deep understanding, and the softness of a human heart can bring — especially when a couple is navigating the messy, painful, complicated parts of being alive, parts no one ever really taught us how to face.

In this story, just like in so many others, what both of them needed wasn’t just advice or strategies. They needed someone — anyone — to hold them in a loving gaze. Someone to help them remember how to find their way back to love, even though the heartbreak and the tragedy.

This horrible event could have brought them closer — and I still hold hope that it will — instead of pulling them apart.

When we face struggles in partnership, it always helps to remember: it’s never one against the other. It’s both of you, together, against the challenge. Love and compassion are what keep us safe.

This beautiful moment with his woman brought up, once again, a deep longing in me to speak up for spaces where men can be truly held in their experience — spaces where what’s happening inside them is understood.

 Behind any behavior, no matter how wrong or confusing it might seem from the outside, there is always a reason. Often, a reason they themselves may not even be fully aware of.

And yet, they carry it alone, because they don’t have a safe place where they can say things like: 

“My p0rn consumption is out of control.” “I’m thinking about cheating on my marriage.” 

“I’m having a hard time controlling my se*ual impulses.”

 “I’m scared by some of my se*ual fantasies and afraid they might get out of control.”

Just because they don’t speak about it, doesn’t mean they aren’t struggling. As long as male se*uality remains taboo, heavy with shame, it won't feel safe for them to explore these very real and human challenges.

My intuition tells me that healing could happen through community — through spaces where men are not judged, but met with understanding and humanity.

But I would also love to hear more ideas if you have any. Maybe together we can imagine and create new realities for men, and for couples finding their way through hardship back into connection.

If you or your partner are struggling with something similar, please know you are not alone. Feel free to reach out.

Whatever you are facing with your partner right now: 

What if this challenge wasn’t here to break you, but to show you what love is truly capable of?