Sexual Betrayal, Gentle Disclosure, and Rebuilding a New Marriage
- Jonathan Daugherty
- 9 hours ago
- 7 min read
When sexual betrayal blows up a marriage, most couples feel like they are standing on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon wondering, “Is there any way back to each other?” That’s why I loved my recent conversation with Drs. Matt and Laura Burton, who for decades have been walking with men, women, and couples through the wreckage of pornography, affairs, and other forms of sexual brokenness—and into something genuinely new.
In this post, I want to unpack some of the core ideas they shared, and connect them to what we talk about so often at Be Broken: real recovery, real relationships, and real hope in Christ.
Sober Is Not Well
One of the first phrases that jumped out in our conversation was a simple 12‑step saying:
“Sober is not well.”
Matt has been in sexual addiction recovery since 1992 and has helped lead groups, write material, and train others for decades. He’s seen it again and again:
Sobriety is essential, but it is only one piece of a very large pie.
You can stop acting out and still have serious attachment issues, fear, selfishness, and relational avoidance.
Many men are “winning” with sobriety while their marriages remain cold, distant, or chaotic.
At Be Broken, we talk about this in terms of a Transformation Pathway, with three stages: heal, grow, share. Healing begins with stopping destructive behavior, but it can’t end there. Growth means allowing God to touch the deeper roots that drove the behavior in the first place—trauma, shame, intimacy avoidance, and distorted beliefs about God, self, and others. Then, in time, sharing means passing on what you’ve received to others in need.
Grace is not opposed to effort; it’s opposed to earning.
That old Dallas Willard line is one I quoted in the episode because recovery is hard work done in a grace‑based environment. God’s grace empowers effort; it doesn’t eliminate it.
Every Marriage Brings a Pain Closet
Matt and Laura both came into marriage having already done a significant amount of individual work—trauma recovery, 12‑step programs, and counseling. But that didn’t mean their relationship was “smooth as butter.” They each brought a “pain closet” into the marriage.
Matt describes himself as a severe trauma survivor, wounded deeply by people who shared his last name. That taught him an internal rule: “If you’re close to me, you’re unsafe.” So when he got married, the person who had the greatest potential to hurt him was his wife. His instinct was to create distance and avoid intimacy to stay safe.
Laura, on the other hand, experienced what it felt like to be on the outside of someone else’s recovery:
He’s “working his program,” but she’s not informed.
She’s expected (or feels expected) to stay, but no one is really helping her.
She doesn’t know what’s happening, and that lack of information feels like additional harm.
They use a powerful image: everyone comes into marriage with a pain closet.
You bring wounds from your past.
Your spouse brings theirs.
Then you inevitably create pain for each other.
Part of a redeemed marriage is learning to:
Start with the pain I created for my spouse.
Own it, grieve it, and help them heal.
Then gently move toward the older pain they carried in before I arrived—and let them do the same for me.
The point is this: even if your betrayal wasn’t against your current spouse (you may have been betrayed previously, or carry trauma from childhood), those unresolved wounds will show up in your current relationship. Healing has to become a shared project, not just separate individual journeys.
What Is “Gentle Disclosure”?
If a couple decides, “We want to see if this marriage can be rebuilt,” the path forward has to pass through disclosure—getting the truth out on the table.
Laura is honest: disclosure is trauma. There’s no way to make it painless. It is like getting hit by a bus. But there is a huge difference between getting hit by one bus and getting hit by 12 buses plus a few cars backing over you.
That’s where the idea of “gentle disclosure” comes in.
Gentle disclosure DOES mean:
Making honesty the foundation of rebuilding trust.
Getting the full factual story out in a compact, well‑contained window, rather than “dribbling” the truth over months or years.
Seeking professional help to guide the process in a therapeutic setting rather than trying to do it all at home.
Gentle disclosure does NOT mean:
Finding an “easy button” that avoids pain for the betraying spouse or the wounded spouse.
Dumping graphic, pornographic levels of detail that will only create more lifelong triggers for the wounded spouse.
Protecting yourself under the guise of “I just don’t want to hurt them more.” In reality, drip‑disclosure almost always serves self‑protection.
When the betraying spouse dribbles out more pieces of the story over time, they are repeating the original violation: “My comfort and my safety come before your well‑being.” The wounded partner sees rightly that this is the same heart posture that fueled the betrayal.
Matt uses a vivid picture: often a man feels a “weight lifted” after he confesses, but that relief comes because he just took a “turd” out of his own pocket and put it into his wife’s. He feels better; she now carries the full weight—with little space given to process it.
That’s why the Burtons also use tools like polygraphs as an objective way to verify truthfulness in some cases. It’s not about punishment; it’s about giving the wounded spouse something concrete that says, “Yes, I’m telling the truth and continuing to walk in it; I have nothing more to hide.”
Navigating Fear on Both Sides
One of the most powerful realizations for many couples is this: both spouses are afraid.
The wounded partner fears being blindsided again, abandoned, or made to feel crazy.
The wounding partner fears being forever condemned, never trusted again, or that they will never actually change.
When fear isn’t acknowledged, it often shows up as control and anger.
For example:
The wounding partner may shut down questions, say “Stop asking me,” or hide key parts of their recovery work because they fear criticism or control.
The wounded partner may monitor phones constantly, insist on zero contact with any co‑worker of the opposite sex, or track every move—because their nervous system is screaming, “Never let this happen again.”
Underneath both sets of behaviors is the same core emotion: fear.
Matt and Laura encourage couples to begin practicing vulnerability around fear:
Name it: “I’m scared you’ll leave” or “I’m scared you’ll never actually stop.”
Share it regularly through daily check‑ins, where each spouse talks honestly about their worst moment of the day, feelings, temptations, and needs, and then prays together.
This is part of what Matt calls true intimacy: “into me, see.”
You can’t rebuild trust without opening your inner world to your spouse.
For the betraying spouse, that also means:
Sharing your recovery, not hiding it. Let your spouse see what you’re actually doing to get healthy.
Following a “24‑hour policy” after a slip—if you fall, you disclose it within 24 hours.
You don’t need to recite every graphic detail, but you do need to be rigorously honest about the fact of the slip and the type of acting out.
Three Recoveries, Not One
Many couples believe a very common myth:
“If he just gets sober, our marriage will be fine.”
Laura pushes back strongly on that. When there has been sexual betrayal, there are actually three distinct recoveries that have to be pursued:
Recovery for the wounding partner (the one who betrayed).
Recovery for the wounded partner (the one who was betrayed).
Recovery for the marriage as a relationship.
If any one of these three is neglected, long‑term restoration is unlikely.
For the wounded partner, this can feel deeply unfair. Laura uses a simple analogy: if you get hit by a car, you can’t expect the driver to fix your broken leg.
The accident was not your fault.
But you still have to do rehab to learn to walk again.
In the same way, the betrayed spouse didn’t cause the betrayal—but they do carry trauma that must be addressed. Triggers, anxiety, intrusive images, and old wounds from previous relationships or childhood often flare up at a whole new level.
Here’s the hard truth:
If the wounded partner refuses to work on their own healing, they will remain stuck in injury.
If the wounding partner tells them, “Just go work on yourself and leave me alone,” while doing little or no inner work themselves, the wounded spouse may outgrow them—and the marriage may not survive.
No one can do your part of the healing for you. But neither spouse can “outsource” the entire restoration job to the other.
And about the marriage itself:
The “old marriage” essentially ends the day betrayal is revealed.
What you are building now is not “getting back to how it was,” but creating a new marriage with different foundations: truth‑telling, shared vulnerability, and a mutual commitment to healing.
As I often tell couples, betrayal has a way of dragging every unresolved issue up to the surface. It’s as if God says, “Since the ground is already torn up, let’s deal with all of it.” That’s painful, but it can also be the doorway to a relationship deeper and more honest than anything either of you has ever known.
An Invitation to Take the Next Step
Matt and Laura now serve couples through their Becoming Well Institute, offering intensives for men, wounded partners, and couples, along with books like Mending After Betrayal and Rebuilding Trust. Their passion is clear: not just getting people sober, but helping them become truly well—emotionally, relationally, and spiritually.
At Be Broken, our heart is the same: to help you take your next best step to wholeness in Christ. Whether that’s your first disclosure, your first group, a needed conversation with your spouse, or simply admitting, “I’m afraid,” we want to walk with you.
If your marriage has been rocked by sexual betrayal, don’t settle for “sober but not well.” Ask Jesus to lead you into truth, into courage, and into the kind of relational healing that reflects His heart—where grace and effort, honesty and gentleness, pain and hope can all live in the same story.
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