Maybe it started small. A few extra hours on dating apps. Porn that went from occasional to daily. Hookups that left you feeling emptier than before. And somewhere along the way, you started wondering: Am I a sex addict?
You’ve seen the talk show confessions, read the articles about celebrities in treatment, scrolled through forums where people share their “day counts” of abstinence. The label seems to fit. Your sexual behavior feels out of control. You’ve tried to stop and can’t. You’re keeping secrets. Sound familiar?
But what if I told you there’s another way to understand what you’re going through—one that doesn’t require you to label yourself as diseased or broken?
When the Label Doesn’t Fit
You might have noticed something doesn’t quite add up about calling yourself a sex addict. Unlike alcohol or cocaine, sex isn’t something external you’re putting into your body. It’s part of being human. You can’t abstain from your sexuality the way you’d abstain from drinking. Even if you stop certain behaviors, you’re still a sexual being.
My dear friend and psychotherapist Doug Braun-Harvey spent decades working with people like you, and he discovered something important: the addiction model fundamentally misunderstands what’s really going on. When you label yourself an addict, you’re accepting a diagnosis that isn’t even officially recognized in mental health manuals. You’re taking on shame and powerlessness when what you actually need is understanding and agency.
Think about it. When was the last time calling yourself an addict made you feel empowered to change?
What’s Really Happening
Here’s what Braun-Harvey wants you to know: your sexual behavior isn’t the real problem. It’s a symptom. It’s how you’ve been coping with something else.
Let me guess. You reach for that dating app when you’re anxious about work. You watch porn when you feel disconnected from your partner. You arrange hookups when loneliness becomes unbearable. You turn to sexual behavior when stress, sadness, or emptiness threaten to overwhelm you. Am I close?
Your sexual behavior is serving a purpose. It’s your attempt to manage difficult feelings, to fill a void, to escape from something painful. And for a moment, it works. Until it doesn’t. Until you’re left with guilt, shame, and the gnawing sense that you’re out of control.
But here’s the crucial part: you’re not out of control because you’re diseased. You’re struggling because you haven’t yet found better ways to meet your needs.
The Questions That Change Everything
Instead of asking yourself “Am I a sex addict?” Braun-Harvey suggests different questions. Harder questions, maybe, but ones that actually lead somewhere:
- What are you really looking for when you engage in this behavior?
- What feelings are you trying to avoid?
- How does your sexual behavior conflict with who you want to be?
- What’s missing in your life that you’re trying to fill with sex?
These questions don’t come with shame attached. They come with curiosity. They assume you’re a whole person trying your best to cope, not a broken one who needs to be fixed.
The Shame Spiral You’re Trapped In
If you grew up hearing that sex was dirty, sinful, or shameful, you’re carrying that weight every time you’re sexual. You’ve internalized those messages, and now they’re destroying you from the inside.
You engage in sexual behavior. Immediately afterward, you’re flooded with guilt and self-hatred. You tell yourself you’re disgusting, weak, addicted. This shame is so painful that you need relief from it. And what provides that relief, at least temporarily? More sexual behavior. And the cycle continues.
The addiction model, with its insistence that you admit you’re powerless and identify as an addict, actually feeds this shame spiral. It tells you that you’re fundamentally flawed. Braun-Harvey’s approach does the opposite: it normalizes your sexuality and helps you develop a healthier relationship with it.
You’re not powerless. You’re in pain.
What You Really Value
Instead of rigid rules about abstinence, imagine someone asking you this: What kind of sexual life do you actually want? Not what you think you should want, but what aligns with your deepest values.
Maybe you value honesty, and your secret sexual behavior makes you feel like a liar. Maybe you value connection, and anonymous encounters leave you feeling more alone. Maybe you value respect, and some of your sexual choices haven’t honored that value—for yourself or others.
When you clarify your values, something shifts. You’re no longer trying to white-knuckle your way through abstinence. You’re making conscious choices about the sexual life you want to live. You’re asking yourself: Does this sexual choice reflect who I want to be?
For you, that might mean being faithful in your relationship. It might mean being transparent about your desires. It might mean ensuring your sexual encounters are mutual, consensual, and actually pleasurable. It’s your life. Your values. Your choices.
Learning New Ways to Cope
You’ve been using sexual behavior as a tool—a screwdriver when what you needed was a hammer. What you need now aren’t shame and abstinence, but actual skills.
You need to learn how to regulate your emotions without turning to sex. How to manage stress, sit with loneliness, communicate your needs, develop genuine intimacy. You need to recognize what triggers your out-of-control behavior and create alternative strategies.
When you feel that familiar urge building, you’ll learn to pause and ask:
- What am I really feeling right now?
- What do I actually need?
And then you’ll have choices beyond the one you’ve been defaulting to.
A Different Story
You’re not broken. You’re not diseased. You’re a human being who’s been trying to cope with difficult feelings and circumstances using the tools you had available. Your sexuality isn’t your enemy—it’s part of you, and it deserves to be expressed in ways that honor your values and serve your wellbeing.
The path forward isn’t about labeling yourself an addict and committing to lifelong powerlessness. It’s about understanding why you’ve been struggling, addressing the root causes, and developing a sexual life that actually reflects who you want to be.
With support, you can get there. You can develop healthier coping strategies. You can heal the shame that’s been driving your behavior. You can make conscious, values-aligned choices about your sexuality.
Your story doesn’t have to be about addiction and recovery. It can be about growth, healing, and becoming more fully yourself.
