Women Can Become Addicted to Cybersex, Too

Charlotte came from one of those respectable Southern families where impeccable manners and genteel appearances were more important even than money, though that was certainly important too. In Charlotte’s world, women wore white lace, but never after Labor Day, and everything, even one’s bed sheets and bathrobes, were monogrammed, lest one forget the importance of the family name.

Charlotte played her part like any Southern daughter—she came out as a debutante, took tea at the club with the ladies, and rushed the right sorority house in college, the right college, naturally. By all appearances, she was lovely and prim but never stiff, and her parents were delighted to call her theirs. They were even more delighted when she married a promising young attorney and moved to Birmingham with plans to start a family. But Charlotte’s marriage wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought. Her husband was far more interested in working in every last billable hour so that he could make his way to partner as soon as possible. He’d more or less taken Charlotte on because she looked pretty on his arm and knew how to throw a party, and she knew it. They had almost nothing in common except childhoods spent in Destin condominiums—until their parents mutually decided Destin was no longer the place to summer.

Charlotte wasn’t interested in giving up her lifestyle; she couldn’t really imagine it any other way. It was simply the way things were done. A girl like Char only looked normal in crisp cashmere pastels and A-line dresses. The sparkling stone on her left hand might not signify a relationship of joy and togetherness, but it meant security and standards and she wasn’t about to give those up.

Like most 20-somethings, Charlotte had grown up in the age of Facebook and Twitter. Using 140 characters to speak her mind—her actual thoughts and opinions, rather than the things she was supposed to say in polite company—to a crowd of anonymous cyber-bodies had felt liberating, and so she’d been hooked from the start. Acquiring followers felt like success; she grew addicted to it. And eventually a kind of intimacy was established between Charlotte and some of the people out there in the ether—certain men. Men who took the time to notice what she was thinking about, what she liked and what mattered to her.

The intrigue of these encounters took over Charlotte’s online entertainment. She became enmeshed in vaguely romantic engagements with strangers that quickly became sexual. Again, the anonymity offered her a sense of freedom and an outlet she’d never had before. A person who wore pearls and buttoned the top buttons of sweaters, Charlotte let loose on the Internet. She began by sending photos of herself nearly nude, and eventually naked, to men she chatted with on the sly. When one man she liked a lot invited her to video chat with him, she took him up on it, and this too became a powerful outlet for her, except that afterward she felt guilty and afraid of being caught. What if someone passed these videos along so that they found their way back to one of her husband’s colleagues or friends? She was terrified of the consequences such a revelation might bring, but felt powerless to stop. Charlotte would have said she wasn’t cheating on her husband, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him about what she’d been doing; she knew he would consider it a betrayal, and no matter what he thought, the fact that she couldn’t seem to stop having sexual Internet exchanges worried her.

So all your friends and your mother are certain that only men can become hooked on sex, any kind of sex, but especially cybersex. They seem to be missing the obvious, though, aren’t they? Women have been buying up sexual fantasy in the form of romance novels for ages—and most of those are downright salacious! And what is cybersex if not fantasy? Perhaps it’s the base element of raw sexual need that makes some people think certain women just aren’t as vulnerable to sexual addiction. Don’t women want cuddles before sex, they ask? But no matter your gender, and regardless of the kind of sexual addiction you may experience—voyeurism, exhibitionism, anonymous sex, etc.—this form of addiction at its very root is, according to expert and author Robert Weiss, an intimacy disorder.

In Charlotte’s case, the life she was living and the way she’d been raised were inhibiting her ability to tell the truth about herself, to simply be herself—which is essential for intimacy and closeness. Sex addiction may feel as though it intensifies our interactions, but in reality, compulsive sex serves to further separate us from ourselves and another. In the case of cybersex, there is the added barrier—a digital barrier—that simultaneously allows a person to feel connected, but also safe in his or her separateness.

Types of Cybersex Addiction

In addition to the fact that women are susceptible to sexual addiction, there is the added component that each facet of this form of addiction has many behavioral types, or layers, if you will. The more we understand about them, the more prepared we can be to assess our own behavior or to help another who may be running into trouble.

Some of the types of cybersex behaviors that may become compulsive (i.e., addictive) are listed below:

• Internet pornography
• Seeking cybersex through instant messenger, chat rooms, online forums, etc.
• Seeking sex through Craigslist ads or other online personals
• Webcam sex
• Sexting (sending sexually explicit texts and photos via cellphone)
• Memberships to Online Sex Sites (BDSM, Swingers, etc.)
• Adult online dating sites
• Cellphone hookup apps
• GPS hookup apps (Grindr, Tindr, etc.)
• Affair websites (AshleyMadison.com, etc.)

Addicted to Sex When There’s No Actual Sex?

Many people are dubious of the sexual addiction diagnosis in the first place. They argue that we can’t yet see it in the brain, and that scientists are still arguing over its legitimacy so why should we concede? But when you know someone whose life has been turned upside down, who has lost jobs and relationships, who struggles to meet regular responsibilities, and regularly fails to keep promises to herself to quit for good (and when she tries, she suffers very real withdrawal symptoms, just like a drug addict would), you become convinced.

The problem of sexual addiction, as stated above, is one where we become detached and unable to connect to others intimately. We can look at this as a spiritual problem, if we consider “spiritual” to mean “whole person.” Fragmented and apart from ourselves and others, we become more vulnerable to compulsive tendencies. We do whatever we can to stay numb to our fragmented state because it is painful; we’re meant to be connected to others. And this is where the secret to recovery from sexual addiction lies—being willing to reconnect to ourselves and others, despite the overwhelming sense of vulnerability we may feel in the process. As Charlotte is learning now, becoming honest about who we are with everyone in our lives—most importantly with ourselves—is where we begin.