Everyone Thinks He’s Great . . . But They Don’t Know the Whole Story!
- 2 days ago
- 7 min read
When friends and family compliment an addict in recovery, betrayed partners often feel unseen, isolated, or even gaslit—because they alone know the full story of betrayal and trauma. This article (from PBSE Podcast Episode 297) explores how those compliments can trigger deep wounds, why partners feel caught between silence and being dismissed, and how couples can navigate this gap between public perception and private reality. By practicing empathy, sharing the story at an appropriate level of transparency, and making disclosure decisions together, couples can build a culture of honesty and compassion that allows both the pain of the past and the progress of the present to coexist.
LISTEN TO EPISODE—
Inside this Episode:
The Listener’s Question
Every week we receive submissions from people on both sides of the struggle with pornography and sex addiction. This time, the courage came from an addict in recovery. He reached out to share his gratitude for the podcast and his progress, but also to ask a heartfelt question. His story gives us a window into a unique but very common challenge couples face in recovery.
He explained that he had been with his girlfriend for just over a year. Two months into their relationship, his porn addiction came out. To his credit, he acted quickly—installing filtering devices, seeking therapy, and making PBSE part of his daily routine. Through those efforts, he and his girlfriend had built a deeper, more honest connection than he had ever known before.
But alongside the progress, a dilemma remained. He noticed that compliments from friends and acquaintances—phrases like “he’s such a great guy” or “you’re lucky to be with him”—triggered his partner. She knew both sides of the story. She knew about the betrayal and the trauma. For her, those compliments weren’t simple affirmations; they stirred pain, isolation, and doubt.
His question was simple but profound: What do we do when others praise me publicly, but my partner knows the darker parts of the story? How do we navigate that tension together?
It’s a brave and important question, one that touches not only addicts and partners but anyone who has lived through betrayal.
The Hidden Double Life
The challenge described here isn’t theoretical. Many of us, as addicts in recovery, know what it’s like to live with two versions of ourselves. There’s the “public” persona—the charismatic, kind, accomplished person others admire. And then there’s the “private” reality, often filled with secrecy, acting out, and betrayal.
Mark shared his own experience of growing up with stepfathers who embodied this duplicity. In public, they were beloved—charismatic, articulate, admired. Behind closed doors, however, they were neglectful, dysfunctional, even abusive. The dissonance was crushing. To see everyone else praise the men he knew so differently left him feeling neglected, ashamed, and angry.
That experience resonates deeply with what partners of addicts go through. They hear the compliments too. On one hand, those statements may ring true—yes, their partner does have good qualities. On the other hand, they know the hidden reality. They alone carry the weight of the betrayal, the trauma, and the secret story others can’t see.
The result is often isolation. A partner may think, Am I the only one who sees the truth? Why am I treated like I’m the problem when I’m simply being honest? The loneliness compounds the pain.
This duplicity is at the heart of betrayal trauma. It isn’t just about the sexual acting out—it’s about living with a person who shows one face to the world and another at home. That mismatch leaves deep scars.
Compliments That Sting
From the outside, a compliment seems harmless—even generous. But for the betrayed partner, praise directed at the addict can feel like salt on an open wound. Each kind word becomes a reminder of the hidden pain others don’t know about.
This is why so many partners describe feeling invalidated or even gaslit in these moments. They may think, Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m too critical. Maybe the problem is me. And tragically, many addicts in active addiction reinforce those doubts—by minimizing, deflecting, or blaming their partners for being “too sensitive” or “too demanding.”
Even when the addict isn’t reinforcing those harmful messages, the partner may still feel stuck. If she stays silent, she’s inauthentic, pretending everything is fine when it isn’t. But if she speaks her truth, others may dismiss her as negative, pessimistic, or ungrateful.
It becomes a no-win situation. She either hides her reality or risks being misunderstood and judged. That constant tension only deepens the trauma.
So when the listener’s girlfriend hears, “He’s such a great guy,” she may nod in agreement while simultaneously grieving the hidden story. She knows the reality behind closed doors, and that knowledge makes the praise bittersweet at best—and triggering at worst.
The Secret Sexual Basement
To describe this dynamic, we often use the metaphor of the “secret sexual basement”(a term created by Dr. Omar Minwalla). Picture a house. Upstairs, in the living room, everything looks warm and inviting. The addict is charming, kind, and engaging. That’s what everyone else sees.
But downstairs, hidden in the basement, lies the secret life—the pornography use, the betrayals, the behaviors others know nothing about. The partner is the only one who knows the full scope of what happens in that basement.
When friends and family praise the addict for his “upstairs” self, the partner is left alone with the knowledge of the basement. She feels like she must smile along, while carrying the weight of the truth. And if she dares to speak about it, she risks being shamed, misunderstood, or dismissed.
This metaphor captures why compliments sting so deeply. They highlight the gap between perception and reality. They place the partner in an impossible bind—unable to be authentic without facing judgment, yet unable to stay silent without feeling complicit in a false narrative.
Understanding this helps us see why these seemingly small moments are actually profound triggers.
Finding Appropriate Transparency
One of the hardest questions in recovery is: How much of our story do we share with others? On the one hand, secrecy is toxic. On the other hand, full disclosure to everyone in our lives isn’t always appropriate or safe.
Mark described his approach. He didn’t broadcast the details of his addiction to everyone, but he did share openly that he had faced struggles with mental health, depression, anxiety, and trauma. He honored his wife publicly, acknowledging that she had stood by him through great difficulty. This way, others knew there was more to the story—without needing to know the details.
Steve shared his experience of calling a family meeting when rumors and misunderstandings about his relationship with Brittany began circulating. He didn’t disclose everything, but he did speak honestly: yes, they were facing challenges, and yes, they were tied to his struggles. That honesty helped protect his wife from unfair judgment and gave family members a context for what they had noticed.
Transparency doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing. It’s about balancing authenticity with discernment. As Brené Brown has wisely said, we share our deepest stories only with those who have earned the right to hear them.
The Role of Empathy and Proactivity
Beyond deciding what to share with others, addicts in recovery have a responsibility within their relationship. Proactive empathy matters. Instead of waiting for a partner to bring up the pain, we can take the lead.
For example, if someone compliments us in front of our partner, we can later acknowledge it. We might say, “Hey, I imagine that compliment could have been hard for you to hear. What was that like for you?” That small act shows awareness, accountability, and empathy.
This is a far cry from how most addicts operate in active addiction. Back then, conflict was avoided at all costs. But recovery invites us to lean in, not run away. When we proactively acknowledge potential triggers, we show our partners that their experience matters.
Doing so doesn’t just reduce the sting of the moment. It creates a culture of safety, where the partner feels seen, validated, and invited to share her truth without fear of dismissal.
In the long run, this builds trust—the very thing betrayal once destroyed.
Balancing the Story Together
One danger in recovery is for the addict to assume sole ownership of disclosure. But this is not just his story—it’s their story as a couple. Decisions about what to share, when, and with whom must be made together.
In early recovery, addicts often ride a “pink cloud” of enthusiasm. Having felt the relief of honesty with a sponsor or therapist, they may want to shout everything from the rooftops. But unrestrained disclosure can do more harm than good. Once something is shared publicly—especially in today’s digital world—it cannot be taken back.
That’s why ongoing dialogue between partners is essential. Together, couples can decide the level of openness that feels safe, appropriate, and honoring of both people’s journeys. The addict must resist the temptation to rush ahead, and the partner must be given equal voice in shaping the narrative.
When both individuals engage in this process, they strike a balance between authenticity and discretion. They protect each other, while still living in truth.
Moving Forward With Compassion
At the end of the day, this issue isn’t just about compliments. It’s about creating a relationship environment where both partners can be authentic, safe, and seen.
For the addict, this means leading with empathy—acknowledging how compliments might sting, checking in proactively, and showing that he cares about his partner’s inner world. It also means being mindful about what is shared publicly and ensuring that any decisions about disclosure are made together.
For the partner, it means finding her voice—expressing when something feels triggering, and distinguishing between the past and the present. It means recognizing the progress being made, while still honoring the pain of the past.
For both, it means holding space for complexity. Yes, he may be a good man today. Yes, he also caused deep harm yesterday. Both truths can coexist. The goal of recovery is not to erase one reality but to integrate them—building a future that acknowledges the past without being defined by it.
As we navigate these tensions, the guiding principles must always be empathy, compassion, and authenticity. When those are in place, couples can face even the most complicated triggers and come out stronger together.
If you found this article helpful and are looking for more support, come check out our Dare to Connect program. We offer resources not just for couples, but for individuals on every part of the healing journey. Visit us at daretoconnectnow.com — we'd love to have you join us.
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