Will He Ever Stop Lying?

Sex addicts lie. How is that for a stunning revelation?!?!

Sometimes these lies are big, born out of a fear of the consequences of telling the truth. But what about the “little lies?” The ones that seem to have no real impact. They're there too, and they can be just as damaging to a betrayed partner reeling from the trauma of discovery.

I remember one time (just a few weeks into true recovery), I lied about eating a few bites of our son’s spaghetti. A silly thing, right? Jacqueline noticed that some of the spaghetti seemed to be missing and she was asking if I had eaten it or our son did.  Out of sheer habit of lying anytime I felt the remote possibility that I might be “caught,” I told her that I didn’t eat it.   I went to her about 10 minutes later and embarrassingly admitted that I had lied about something so trivial.  It seems ridiculous now, but in that moment, I couldn't face the minor disappointment I thought I'd caused.

In my coaching practice, I hear stories like this all the time. Clients confess to all sorts of lies, both big and small, of commission and omission. Here are just a few examples:

• “I don’t remember” as a reply to her questions about the past acting out, when he does indeed remember.

• "I've told you everything," only to reveal days later that there were still things hidden.

• "I only watched p0rn, I never acted out with anyone physically,” but there was that emotional affair with the coworker that wasn’t mentioned.

  
  

Why Do We Lie? 

It's a question many partners ask, often followed by the exasperated, "It's not that hard to just tell the truth!" While there are NO EXCUSES for dishonesty, let's explore some possible explanations for this behavior.

From a spiritual perspective, we understand that lying is part of our humanity. Even Adam, in the very first moment of accountability with God, resorted to deception. Remember how Adam responds to God's questions. God asks three direct questions, but Adam only answers one straightforwardly. Sound familiar?

• God: Where are you?

• Adam: I hid. (Doesn't say where he hid)

• God: Who told you that you were naked? And did you eat from the tree?

• Adam: She made me do it. And yeah, I ate. (Only answers the second part)

  
  

It's also worth noting Adam's blame-shifting, pointing fingers at both God and his wife. This avoidance and blame-shifting create an environment where lying thrives. It seems the tendency toward dishonesty is deeply ingrained within us from our earliest ancestors.

He is Such a Child

Another reason men caught in sexual addiction resort to lying is that, in a way, they're acting like children. Some men experience a developmental delay in their ability to own their mistakes and accept the consequences. Like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, they'll deflect, manipulate, and twist the truth to minimize the fallout and avoid "getting in trouble." Facing a partner’s hurt, disappointment, or anger can feel unbearable. Consider this: can an eleven-year-old truly process and contain adult emotions? Probably not. Many partners even describe their addicts as acting childish when confronted with their anger, and they're often right. Once that trigger is pushed, you're no longer dealing with an adult, but a petulant child.

Men themselves acknowledge this feeling of childishness when responding to their partner’s hurt. I've experienced it myself. When my partner, Jacqueline, was expressing her anger after D Day, I'd lash out with comments like, "Oh yeah, well…" or "Well, at least I…" (classic second-grade avoidance, blame-shifting, and lying). Ultimately, men lie to protect themselves, especially when it comes to shame. When our actions, or the actions of others, trigger these shameful feelings, self-preservation kicks in. Without conscious awareness, our primary goal becomes stopping the pain, then offsetting it, and finally, medicating it.

Here's is the paradox:  lying often becomes a tool to stop the pain, but it only creates more.

Consider the spaghetti situation I mentioned earlier.  The truth was that I felt ashamed that I ate part of our son’s food.  In my head the shame-based self-talk went like this: “you’ve already destroyed her with infidelity, the least you could do is refrain from stealing spaghetti from a child.  You are such a horrible person!”  Her question about what happened to the spaghetti was innocent, it was not an interrogation.  But it my mind I interpreted it that way.  So I hid to avoid feeling the shame.  Rather than owning my actions, I lied (and acted like I had no idea what happened to the missing meatball).  I didn’t mean to hurt her more.  But I did.  I had no intention of further damaging our couple-ship, but I did.  She felt insulted and disrespected.

It had nothing to do with her and 100% to do with me.  I didn’t know how to be radically honest, own my mistakes and face the music.  And with the spaghetti situation, there would have been hardly any rupture in the relationship.  Jacqueline probably would have laughed it off.

Here is what the betrayed partner is thinking: If he is willing to lie to protect himself in such a ridiculous situation where he felt the slightest hint of potential shame, how much more likely will he lie in situations where HE KNOWS he’d feel overwhelming shame (like the truth about acting out).

We Lie to Ourselves First

Before we move on to practical steps, there's one crucial point about lying that we can't ignore: we often lie to ourselves before we lie to others. It's disturbing how easily we can twist our thinking to justify our actions. We internally debate and rationalize, searching for any loophole to absolve ourselves. This often leads to a seemingly rational lie:

• "This time was the last time."

• "This isn't technically something I need to disclose."

• "It was only ______, not ________."

• "She would overreact, so I'll save us both the trouble."

• "I'm protecting her by not telling her."

• "At least what I'm doing isn't as bad as [some other person]."

  
  

Self-deception is about self-preservation.

It's living in denial. It can stem from perfectionism, fear of failure, or a sense of inadequacy. Whatever the root cause, the goal is the same: to shield ourselves from feeling more shame, from feeling like a monster or pervert, and from feeling like a disappointment.

So, What Can Be Done?

First, understand that overcoming a pattern of lying doesn't happen overnight. I know the betrayed partners did not want to hear that, but it is sadly often the case.  The last thing to stop is the lying.  Reversing a long-standing habit, especially when coupled with developmental delays, is a process. Think of a car moving forward that needs to go in reverse. You must slow down the momentum before stopping, then shift gears, and slowly accelerate in the opposite direction. It's similar with lying. It usually slows down before it completely stops. (This isn't an excuse or justification, but an observation in my own recovery and others.) Slowing down might look like this: a lie or omission occurs, but a few days later, the truth is disclosed, rather than the partner discovering it weeks or months later. Or, a lie might be told in conversation, followed by a pause, a nervous twitch, and then, "Okay, I need to be honest. I just lied. Let me tell you the truth..." The progression moves from:

1.      Lying until caught, to

2.      Lying and owning it later, to

3.      Owning it in the moment, to

4.      Struggling with the urge to lie, and finally, to

5.      Not lying at all.

It's essentially the developmental process of growing up.

Second, cultivate a culture of honesty. This means actively engaging with your partner and accountability partners to practice telling the truth in all areas of life: finances, diet, time management, words, actions, etc. Using a time-tracking journal, like the T-30 where you capture every 30 minutes what you’ve been doing, can accelerate truth-telling. Being accountable, down to the half-hour, for how time is spent encourages investing time in ways you're willing to talk about honestly. Put yourself on the hook to account for (i.e., tell the truth about) specific areas of your life.

Finally, revisit specific periods of your life and identify instances where you lied, either by commission or omission. Write down these situations and the surrounding circumstances. Then, write down the truth about each one. Once you've done this, sit down with your accountability partners and review them together. These instances might be from your teenage years, college days, or even just last year. Identifying lies, owning them, and then speaking the truth about them can be incredibly healing.