Occasionally, folks ask to interview me about my experiences in a relationship with a sex addict. And (provided that I'm able to maintain my anonymity and that I'm fairly certain the content won't be used inappropriately) I am always happy to oblige. The more information there is about sex addiction and recovery (both for addicts and those who love them), the better. As we say in my 12 Step meetings: "This disease thrives in darkness. We can bring it out into the light."

In that spirit, here is an interview I did recently for AllTreatment.com: The Wife of a Recovering Sex Addict Tells Her Story. Enjoy!

Image credit: Photo by kchbrown on Flickr Licensed under Creative Commons

A few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from a woman named Paula Saardchit. She told me she'd found my blog while doing research for an article she was writing on sex addiction for her website, and she wanted to write and tell me how moved she was by my story. Of course, I was curious to know more about her site, so I googled her. And I found out that she helps women plan lingerie and sex toy parties. (And I know what kind of party some of you have in mind. No, not that kind! You know, this is like a Tupperware party, only with vibrators.)

When I found out about my husband's sex addiction, one of the first things I did was get out my big, black garbage bags and start dumping in porn, lingerie and sex toys. The sight of them, of anything that made me think of sex or by extension of my husband's sexual acting out, made me want to vomit. So off in a landfill somewhere are all the artifacts of my subconscious attempts to control my husband and keep his sexual attention firmly fixed on constantly exciting, porn star me: the dildos and the vibrators, the bustiers and fishnet stockings and the crotchless panties and the wigs and the costumes, the X-rated board games and the porn DVDs. Yeah, I tried it all. Well, except a stripper pole. That hadn't occurred to me yet. And thank goodness because how would I have carted that out to the trash?

I had been as conventionally sexy and exciting and adventurous and engaged as can be, and my husband loved it. But it wasn't enough. That endless, aching need of his wanted more than I could give. More than all the women in all the lingerie with all the sex toys in the world could give. And still I wanted to give it. Which is how I ended up there, with the black Hefty bag in my hand, sick to my stomach with shame and disgust and rage.

And now, six years later, I was on a lingerie party website, full of pictures of that conventional sexy I dumped in the trash, wondering what kind of sex addiction article Paula intended to write. As I glanced at the site, I saw that there was plenty of the usual "hot" and "titillating" sex selling, but Paula also genuinely seemed to see these parties as a way of empowering women to learn about and appreciate their own bodies. Black and white thinking is common in the lives of addicts and those who live with them, and I've been slowly working toward a place where, after fully indulging in our culture's idea of "sexy" and then fully rejecting it (from lingerie to makeup to shaving my legs), I am exploring more shades of grey. So, just because I can't incorporate lingerie and sex toys into my relationship in a healthy way right now, doesn't mean they are evil in themselves. There are definitely aspects of lingerie and sex toys that I'm deeply uncomfortable with, and even perceive as dangerous to women, but there was enough that was positive about Paula's site that when she asked if she could interview me, I said, "Well, send me your questions and I'll see."

When I saw the questions, I found that not only was I comfortable with answering them all, this would be a good opportunity to reach out to women who may not realize (yet) that their partners are sex addicts. (I mean, what better place to find a sex addict's partner in denial than out buying lingerie?) So, while many women may be using Paula's parties as a healthy expression of their sexuality, I (taking to heart that 12 Step message of reaching out to those still suffering) couldn't pass up the opportunity to plant some seeds among those who might be indulging in sexy, not as an act of empowerment, but as one of desperation and degradation.

Then had to take that last leap of faith that Paula would put it up as I expressed it before I clicked send. (Not that I have trust issues or anything!) And she did. The interview is up, and after having thought long and hard about linking out to such a potentially triggering site, I thought I would share it with you all, especially since many of you don't have sex addiction as part of your lives at all and may find it interesting. There is nothing in the content of my interview that I wouldn't post here, but images and links in the header and sidebar are related to lingerie and sex toys. So, one last time before the link...

Warning: Sex addicts and their partners may find images and language in the linked site triggering!

(If the thought of clicking through raises any concerns about your sobriety or serenity, please feel free to e-mail me for a copy of the information contained in the interview instead.)

And here's the link (isn't it cute that I'm an expert?): Interview with Mary P Jones at Lingerie Party and Adult Toys.

If you're a Motherlode reader: Welcome!

(I can't believe you've shown up and my most recent post is about serial killers.  It's like I invited guests over and didn't stuff everything in the closet -- I mean, clean up first!  While I'm off hiding my head under a sack, why not poke around in my greatest hits over on the sidebar?  I keep those rooms cleaner than the rest of the house.  I hope to be done blushing soon.)

A few months ago, my husband and I sat in our car in an empty parking lot. We'd gotten the kids settled with a babysitter, although it had taken longer than usual, and had driven to a place we knew we could park in relative peace. The rain was drumming on the windshield and a chill started seeping in when we turned the engine off.

"Do you want to say a quick Serenity Prayer together first?" Mark asked.

"That sounds good," I responded.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Our voice blended together with the tapping of the rain.

"Ok," I said, "here we go." I picked up my cell phone, pressed *67 to block my number and then dialed the number scribbled on the scrap of paper in my hand. I'd copied it from my e-mail before we left home that evening. Writer AJ Grossman picked up the phone.

"Hi. Mary?" she said, "That's a pseudonym, right?"

"Yes, it is."

"And so is 'Mark', correct?"

"Yes."

She was writing an article on sex addiction for Elle magazine, and we'd found each other while she was looking through the blogosphere for addicts and their partners to interview. Mark and I had agreed to talk to her about our experiences with sex addiction. In the days before the call, Mark and I had read parts of the em Twelve and Twelve /em aloud together and discussed the Eleventh Tradition regarding interactions with the media. Mark had spoken to his sponsor. We were as aligned as what we felt we could be with our Higher Powers and the greater good of helping those still in the throes of active addiction and codependency, but we were both still feeling anxious and uncomfortable about where attraction to the program ended and self-promotion began. After all, could either of us say our motives were entirely pure when we found the idea of being interviewed for a piece in a major national magazine a little exciting and gratifying.

The interview started with me. I struggled to answer questions about life during my husband's active addiction. I didn't want to tell Mark's story for him, and I was still worried about that gaping chasm of self-promotion I seemed to be dancing near. But as the interview went on, I relaxed more and told my truth the best I could. Then I handed the phone off to Mark and listened to him describe his addiction and recovery with openness and honesty, and I was filled with love and admiration for the work that he's done and for the place he's come to. He talked about the secrets he had carried that he swore back then that he would take to his grave, and how he did share those secrets and it freed him. And I laughed, because those secrets that were supposed to haunt him in death were potentially being shared with the entire readership of Elle magazine.

After we hung up the phone, we sat in the car in silence for a moment, each dealing with our own strange mix of emotions. Both of us were feeling anxious and unsure about the interview. Had we done the right thing by agreeing to speak to this journalist? Had we adhered to the 11th Tradition? Had we been of service to others or just our own egos? But both of us were also feeling profoundly grateful and overwhelmed by the power of sharing our stories in each other's presence.

After a moment, Mark took my hand and said, "I never imagined, years ago, that I would ever be able to talk about these things. It was just amazing to listen to you tell your story and to have you hear mine, and know that I didn't have anything to hide. I wasn't worried or scared about what you would think. I know you've heard everything before, but it was really powerful to share it with someone else with you there. I feel so close to you right now and am just filled with gratitude. I love you."

"I love you too. And it was just amazing for me to be here and hear you sharing, and have you here to support me as I did. Whatever comes of this, I'm so grateful for this experience and for this moment right now."

The Elle article "Sexy Beast"* was published recently and strikes a nice balance between the author's personal story and general information on sex addiction from some of the leaders in the field. In the end, Mark and I weren't included in the article, and for that I'm feeling grateful too. It didn't need us, and we got out of it more than we ever would have thought possible years ago: an incredible moment of closeness, holding hands together, safe and dry, while the rain beat on the roof of the car.

I should add that the article includes a video featuring interviews with two sex addicts. Please note that these men are in active addiction, not in recovery. Addicts and their partners may find this video triggering.