How I Got Here: My First Marriage

Every time I go to an S-Anon meeting, I wonder to myself how I got there. I'm grateful to be there, and I go by choice; I actually look forward to my meetings all week. But still, six months ago I could not have predicted that I would be in those rooms today.

I'm not there because of my husband's addiction. I am there because of my own sickness that sought out an addict, an addict that I love and today am even proud of. Certainly, sex addiction has brought a lot of pain into my life and my marriage. But that's just a result of how I got here.

In thinking about this question, I am trying to resurrect some long-buried memories of my past. One part of my life I am trying to sort through is my first marriage. It is strange to think about now, but my first marriage sometimes seems like another lifetime ago. I was only 24 when I married the first time, and our marriage barely lasted 2 years. Yet that brief period of time belies the significance of that relationship.

We met when I was 19 and we started dating fairly soon afterward. He was 10 years older than me, and was actually married at the time, but in odd circumstances. He had been in an open marriage, and his wife had fallen in love with another man. They were still living together when we met, but she was thrilled that we had started dating: she thought I was great, she was glad he was happy, and I think the whole thing alleviated some guilt for her. She moved out about 7 months later and they were divorced soon thereafter. The open marriage hadn't been his idea, but when they had started dating she never stopped dating other people, and he never asked her to. The fact that it continued into their marriage seems strange to most people, but he always felt that he shouldn't have to ask her to stop--and she felt that since he never asked, she shouldn't have to stop. Not exactly the pinnacle of good open communication, I guess. Somehow, this red flag, like many others, didn't show up on my radar.

We were together for 5 years before getting married. He didn't ask me, we just decided. (Funny, the same thing happened with my now-husband.) There are lots and lots of little things along the way that, looking back, should have been warning signs to me, but weren't. At the time, I felt that loving somebody was enough to overcome any troubles. Fortunately, after this relationship I learned that that wasn't the case.

I can't recall anymore if my first husband wanted our relationship to be open or not. I remember telling him that I didn't think I could have an open relationship, but I don't remember if that's what he wanted. What I knew he wanted was not to be challenged at all in our relationship, and to be left alone with his love of porn. I didn't really have a problem with the porn. I grew up thinking that that was just what men did, even though it wasn't something we had around our house. I knew it was how my mom felt about it on the infrequent instances that the subject came up, so that was how I felt too: it's no big deal. But this would be a problem for us personally because our intimate life was something that couldn't be challenged, either, without him withdrawing and complaining that I was criticizing him. And every time I used our computer, there were porn images there as evidence of how he spent late nights. Eventually, I began to see them as a problem when I saw how he used it to avoid real intimacy.

I don't know if he was a sex addict or a porn addict, but both are certainly possible. I recognize him in a lot of the defining characteristics. The marriage ended when he told me that he didn't want children after all, he didn't want to be married and he wanted to be alone. These revelations were spread out over a week and were said in a way that did not invite discussion. Our marriage ended, to his bewilderment, despite his seeming to want that. Then I found that he was in contact with women via the internet (which back in 1999 was still a bit new) for flirting or dating or I'm not even sure what. Looking back now, it seems impossible to me that I was ever involved with or in love with someone who was so non-communicative and so avoidant. My dad is like that, so I shouldn't be so surprised, but after this relationship I decided that these were things I couldn't have in my relationships anymore.

Recovering from this marriage and divorce was very painful, but fruitful as well. I learned a lot about the person I was and the person I wanted to be. I became much more confident in all ways, and open to more possibilities in my life. I stayed single for a long time afterward; in fact, I dated, but only had one actual relationship in the next 5 years before meeting my now-husband.

One thing I did right was avoiding the obvious pitfalls from this relationship in my future relationships. What I failed to realize was that I was avoiding people who had obvious problems with sex and initimacy and communication and affection, but not the actual reasons for those behaviors in my partner, or the reasons that I was attracted to those things myself. That's part of how I got here...