Porn destroyed my marriage

In 2012, I left my husband for two weeks and fled to my parent’s house. When I left, I told him I wanted to discuss our issues and divorce. Initially, my parents welcomed me with open arms but were later much less supportive. 

We had been married for 14 years, and while I was proud that we had weathered many difficult issues, they weren't the typical issues most couples face like finances, in-laws, chores — or even underwear left on the floor. 

Our issues revolved around his partying, which included binge drinking and recreational drug use with his friends. From the beginning of our relationship, there had been many times when he drank too much and was flirtatious, incoherent, belligerent, or didn't come home. We argued every time he drank too much, and he always apologized and said he would limit himself. Our friends even had a name for his drunk alter ego. Everyone thought it was funny. Except me.

“Our friends even had a name for his drunk alter ego. Everyone thought it was funny. Except me.”

Several years into our marriage we started having issues in the bedroom. He couldn't seem to perform, or when we did have sex, it was always very vanilla missionary position. Eventually, sex was reduced to once every three months, usually only after I would bring it up. I tried to spice things up. One night, I put on something sexy and walked in front of the TV. 

My husband did not react.

I asked him repeatedly what was wrong with our sex life. I asked him if something was wrong — if maybe I needed to do something different, if he should see a doctor, or if he might be gay. This went on for eight years. 

But I stayed.

When I told him that things had to change or I would pursue a divorce, I had no idea that porn had also crept into our marriage. When we began really exploring our problems, he confessed that he had been taking care of his own needs while looking at porn. He was uncomfortable talking about it, so I couldn't determine if this had gone on for a short time, for months, or for years. 

I found a stash of porn DVDs hidden in our basement. 

I searched our computer history and found some porn websites. He said they were the result of pop-ups and were not sites he actually visited. 

I wasn't sure what to believe. 

He promised to stop.

Only days after he told me I could check his computer history if I felt the need to, I found that he had searched for two celebrities using the terms "bikini" and "mini skirt." While this wasn't porn exactly, I also believed it could be a trigger for him to dive back into the more explicit material. 

I found a website for partners of porn addicts and read about the addiction. Because he wouldn’t talk about it, I didn't know if he had what would qualify as porn addiction. I started imagining all the different scenarios you hear about on the news where men (unknowingly) exchange photos of minors online, and I hoped he had not and would not ever do anything like that. I felt crazy, insecure, and unreasonable. 

Then, I reminded myself that for years he had neglected MY needs to satisfy his own. That he was hiding things from me.

“I wondered how we would resume a normal, passionate sex life. How would I ever trust him? ”

I wondered how we would resume a normal, passionate sex life. How would I ever trust him? I began pointing out that he was never affectionate or emotionally intimate. I couldn't remember the last time we kissed beyond a peck, even during sex. He told me being affectionate and emotionally intimate wasn't in his genes and was something he could never provide. 

We resumed couples counseling for the second or third time in our 14-year marriage. By this point we had not had sex in nine months. 

The therapist encouraged him to find an addiction specialist for the drinking and porn. We both sought individual counseling as well, but after a few sessions he stopped going. 

My family was not supportive that I was considering divorce. 

They had an argument for everything I said was causing my unhappiness. When I mentioned the porn, my brother compared it to looking at Playboy and belittled my feelings. I felt helpless and completely alone. 

Look, I know I’m not blameless in the dissolution of my marriage. It takes two to make a marriage work — or not — and I’m sure I did things that made him unhappy as well. But when a third party is introduced into a marriage — whether that third party is human, pornographic, alcohol, drugs, or whatever — it’s difficult to regain trust. 

We separated, mainly because my family was putting so much pressure on me to work things out. But mentally, I had already left, and the separation just prolonged the inevitable. 

During our separation I logged into his email (yes, I know that’s wrong). A friend of his had sent him a couple of emails with sexually suggestive subject lines from a local escort website. For me, it was a sad validation that his relationship to porn had evolved into something much worse.

And, although we were separated, I would never be able to trust him.

I filed for divorce.

Before this, if you had asked me if I had a problem with the concept of watching porn, looking at nudie magazines, or going to strip clubs, I might have said no. Now, there are facets of it that make me uncomfortable. 

If porn is something that works in your relationship, I have no problem with that, but for me, it contributed to and exacerbated my relationship issues and perhaps led to the eventual dissolution of my marriage. I do feel obligated to share that despite our problems, we had many years filled with love and fun and were great friends because he is truly a nice guy. We just weren’t meant to be married to one another.