How sex addiction disguised itself as devotion.
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For years, I mistook intensity for intimacy.
I thought the way he panicked when I left, the way he demanded me sexually, and the way he said he âneeded meâ meant I was deeply loved.
Now I see it for what it wasâââI wasnât his love.
I was his supply.
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The Addiction Behind the Attachment
Sex addiction isnât just about lustâââitâs about escape.
My husband didnât pursue connection; he pursued anesthesia.
Sex, power, and control were his drugs.
And I was the most convenient supplier.
When I made myself available, he felt safe.
Not emotionally safeâââbut regulated.
My body became his way to avoid his emptiness.
When I was close, he didnât have to face his shame.
When I was distant, he fell apartââânot because he missed me, but because he lost access to his fix.
Thatâs not love.
Thatâs dependency disguised as devotion.
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The Moment That Shattered Me
In one of his recent calls, he said words that landed like a knife and a truth at the same time:
âI never valued you.â
It stopped me cold.
Because deep down, I knew it was true.
He didnât see my soulâââhe saw my body, my caretaking, my ability to perform, to please, to fix.
He loved the fantasy version of me that met his every needâŚ
but not the real woman who needed to be seen, heard, and cherished.
I wasnât his mirror; I was his mask.
I covered the parts of him he couldnât face.
And when I stopped doing that, the illusion shattered.
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The Cycle of Being His âDrugâ
Every time I tried to go out, to grow, ot said ânoââââheâd unravel.
Heâd accuse me, guilt me, freeze me out, or explode.
And then, when I gave inâââwhen I stayed home, when I comforted him, when I had sex to calm him â
Heâd soften.
Heâd call that âreconnecting.â
But it wasnât reconnectionâââit was relapse.
He didnât love me for my soul;
he loved me for how I made his pain disappear.
And thatâs how addiction keeps both people trapped.
The addict avoids withdrawal.
The partner avoids conflict.
And both call it love.
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The Withholding as Punishment
When I started to healâââwhen I stopped performing, stopped fixing, stopped trying to be enough â
He turned cold.
He withdrew affection, attention, validation.
He called me selfish, distant, unloving.
But what he really meant was:
âYou stopped being my supplier.â
Thatâs when I finally saw it.
I wasnât crazy for feeling unseen.
I was being used.
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What Love Actually Is
Love doesnât punish you for setting boundaries.
Love doesnât collapse when you say no.
Love doesnât need to dominate your body to feel powerful.
Love holds space for your voice, your absence, your individuality.
Addiction consumes.
Love connects.
And when you finally stop supplying someoneâs addiction, youâll learn the truth:
The one who truly loves you will celebrate your healing â
The one who only used you will call it betrayal.
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Final Reflection
I spent two decades believing his intensity was proof of passion.
Now I understand it was proof of emptiness.
He didnât lose me because I stopped loving him.
He is losing me because I finally stopped feeding what was killing both of us.
Thatâs what real love does â
it doesnât feed the sickness.
It walks toward the truth, even when it breaks your heart.
Iâm learning to love myself.
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đ§ Listen while you read: âBetter ManââââLittle Big Town
#betrayaltrauma #sexaddiction #healingjourney #emotionalabuse #truthoverimage
