Eight years into her marriage, Rachel started to wonder if her husband had lost interest in sex.
As Witt’s image of the Epcot monorail suggests, she preferred to see it as an endpoint, the moment that would bring the aimless liaisons of her single years to a full stop.
Witt grew up in Minneapolis, went to college at Brown, and got a master’s degree in investigative journalism at Columbia.
“So when he sat me down one day to tell me he was a sex addict, I actually laughed – although I soon stopped when he disclosed night upon night of watching pornography for hours on end and numerous short-lived affairs.
My life fell apart.” Sex addiction hurts partners in a way that no other addiction can, says Paula Hall, who has written a book on the subject.
Few places are less conducive to erotic optimism than the packed waiting room of a public health clinic in Brooklyn. Though she had spent the ensuing months hooking up with various acquaintances, her hopes were set on long-term monogamy.