The Porn Addict’s Wife Goes to the Beach

I went to the beach last week. With my husband. And a multitude of women wearing bikinis. And bathing suits. And barely there shorts. Everywhere. Walking along the water’s edge. Lounging in chairs. Lying on beach towels. Half nude bodies in every direction for the lustful eyes and heart of a man to gaze upon. Or for an insecure woman to compare herself to.

When an outing to the coast was suggested, my first thoughts were of the soothing sound of ocean waves, sand gently massaging my feet, the warmth of the sun on my skin. Majesty. Beauty. Peace. Contentment.

And then came panic. Fear. Dread. Shame. That I might be expected to wear a bathing suit. Somehow, the thought of my husband seeing my body in a bathing suit causes me more anxiety and distress than his viewing me naked does. Quite possibly because I associate my nudity with the anticipation of sex, and therefore I can trust that the idea of my naked body arouses my husband. Perhaps he can overlook my flaws, cellulite and stretch marks because there is a different objective.

Whereas my body in a bathing suit, a too small covering that exposes and magnifies the extra lumps and bumps, will only garner disappointment, disapproval, distaste, disgust. In my husband’s eyes. And in my own. I am quite certain that my body does not look anything like the thousands of naked women that have sexually aroused my husband during our marriage. The women he fantasized about, that brought him enough gratification, that he opted to completely reject all sexual and physical intimacy with me. Giving him a glaring reminder of why he daily chose pornography and masturbation over me scares me in so many ways.

Concealing my body is my misplaced effort to hold onto his love and affection. To calm my fears. To protect my wounds from breaking open again. Honestly, I know that doesn’t work. It hurts me more. And it hurts him. It hinders the healing of our sexual brokenness.

Surprisingly, as I was immersed in the distress of my own body image insecurities, I had completely overlooked the fact that there would be other women at the beach not afraid to publicly expose their bodies.  As I settled into our spot, comfortably wearing my knee length shorts and flowy tank top, my eyes spotted a bikini clad woman. I confess I checked her over. Compared her body to mine. I lost. And then I added more losses to my growing tally. Sometimes I won. Which gave a tiny boost to my own approval rating, together with a mixture of envy and wonderment that these women were somehow free enough to accept and embrace their imperfect bodies just as they were.

And then my chest tightened as I was struck with the realization that if I was scoping all the women, surely my husband was too! I anxiously looked over at him. Lying on the sand beside me. Facing away from the surf. With his eyes closed. Looking much more relaxed than I felt.

It was me that had converted the women into mere bodies. Not lustfully, but essentially viewing them as sexual objects to be appraised and rated for their ability to entice my husband’s desire. I was even guilty of objectifying myself and diminishing my own worth as I unkindly attempted to assign each of us sexual value based on the physical attractiveness of our bodies.

I have heard, I have read, all the assertions that true sexual intimacy and fulfillment is available for anyone regardless of their body shape. That true sexiness begins in the mind and heart. That, blah, blah, blah. I have the head knowledge. But it frequently dissipates on the way down to my heart.

My body is not hideous. It never has been. And yet, my husband intentionally declined to behold, compliment or touch my body while he engaged in pornography and found pleasure in the beauty of thousands of other female bodies. My soul wrestles with that discrepancy. Why he chose them over me. Every day for twenty five years.

My husband chooses me now. He does. But that doesn’t make everything okay. I struggle to believe that he finds my forty eight year old body attractive and arousing when my twenty five year old one was spurned. It doesn’t make sense. But that’s what addiction does. It ensnares the addict and distorts reality and truth.

My husband is healing and finding freedom from his pornography addiction. So am I. Our pace isn’t always the same though. We aren’t always in the same place at the same time. God has us both on individual paths of healing and growth that intertwine and yet are still unique to each of us.

I decided to enjoy our day at the coast. I did what I commonly do to chase away the fears, insecurities and lies that cloud my heart. I sang worship songs. With the warmth of the sun on my skin and sand trickling through my toes, I wandered along the shore allowing the tide and God’s love to wash over me and still my soul. I found promise and delight in each precious seashell I discovered, depositing as many as I could into the pockets of my shorts. Contentment. Redemption. The choice was mine.

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:13,14

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11 thoughts on “The Porn Addict’s Wife Goes to the Beach

  1. Oh, Cynthia, I so relate to all your fears, insecurities, and comparing yourself—and I haven’t even had to deal with all you’ve had to deal with over the last 25 years! Emotional wounds can do some major and lasting damage to our self-worth, and there’s no quick fix to recovery, that’s for sure. I’m glad you’re choosing to allow God’s love to wash over you at times like that.

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    • Well, the choice was easier last week when I was on vacation in a beautiful setting and not as stuck in the regularity of my daily routines and setting. But yes, my recovery tools kicked in. Sometimes I just need to use them a little sooner!

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  2. Oh my, I can so relate to this. I had an opportunity to go on a vacation to Florida in February which I declined because of my husband’s wandering eyes and my own insecurities. Beaches are so hard for me. I’m proud of you for choosing to change your thoughts and focus on praising God. Although I must say, that looking at all the snow blanketing our yard this morning does make me wish a little bit for someplace warm. Blessings on your day!

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    • There’s snow blanketing my yard too! That was a motivating factor in fighting to rise above the situation. I don’t know when or if I will have the opportunity to be at the ocean again as we generally are not able to take winter getaways, and yet I was sabotaging the time. But that is the blessing of three years of recovery. I don’t stay in those dark places as often or as long. A few days later, on our last night there, I was brave enough to put on my bathing suit and go to the pool at the RV park we were visiting. Mind you, it was with snowbirds, none of who were wearing bikinis. But it was still a step of courage worth celebrating! (((Hugs))) and blessings to you!

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  3. Cynthia, I have to tell you, this scenario never crossed my mind till I read your post. Our upcoming summer has been on my mind a lot lately, but I just never considered the beach and all of its implications.

    Mind you, I would rather chew glass than go shopping for a bathing suit and I traded my shorts for Capri pants a summer or two ago, so I’m with you on all of that. But my newly diagnosed SA husband – it just truly didn’t occur to me that the beach could be an issue. Duh.

    What your post did though was to prompt me to have a discussion with Handsome about exactly who/ what he lusts after and what triggers his lust. I really didn’t know what he lusted after other than the fact that it apparently wasn’t me since 2015. He was pretty clear that his lust is triggered only when a woman makes it clear that she’s “available” to him. So at least in his case, he might see and acknowledge an attractive person (like any other guy), but his lust only kicks in when a woman flirts or is suggestive with him (and he admits that at that point in the past it didn’t matter what she looked like or whether she had any redeeming qualities). Even more specifically he said this seems to only happen with women he has known for some time. A flirty waitress or store clerk doesn’t trigger him, but an overly touchy friend just might.

    I believe that means that the beach will be okay for us. We can people watch like normal folk. Or at least I hope that’s the case. I’ll certainly be more mindful, checking in and asking questions when that time rolls around.

    I’m glad you had a good trip and that you could escape the snow!

    Xo

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    • I should clarify that when I talk about going to the beach like “normal folk” what I really mean are the non-post DDay/ SA/ working the steps folk. We’re all normal… very much so in fact. We just have our own unique baggage.

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    • Oh, I hope I haven’t put unnecessary worries in your mind. Us partners share some triggers, and others are unique to each of us. What affects one may not affect the other at all. And I find that it is my own emotional, mental, spiritual condition on any given day that affects if something is a trigger or not more so than my husband’s behaviour. I have actually been to the beach several times since we began recovery, and usually the thought was a mere flicker that I easily dismissed. I recognize that last week had other factors in play for me. Partly because of another extended time without sexual intimacy, more limited emotional connection, less prayer and devotional time, skipping my daily walks, etc., due to staying with my mother in law. Relatives and vacations can be great, but I am a creature of routine so even good things can throw me off balance.

      I am certainly proud of you for addressing the issue with Handsome as soon as it came to your attention rather than letting it fester in your heart and thoughts as I am prone to do. I think the beach will be just fine for you because you are being proactive. Many blessings.

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