DEAR ANDREA, My ex-husband and I were in a 12-step/therapy cult for 10 years. During my tenure I was diagnosed as a sex addict and attended Sex Addicts Anonymous/Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meetings because before I was married I had had many sex partners. My husband and I didn't have sex for the last six years we were there. I was told not to masturbate, look at porn, or fantasize, let alone have sex.

I left and have seen therapists, and I don't believe I'm truly a sex addict (although I also must say, after that experience I'm not sure exactly what the definition is). After leaving, I dated, used porn, and enjoyed some cybersex without feeling too guilty and, more important, without descending into a life of drug-induced prostitution as my therapist predicted.

My new boyfriend is great and is the greatest lover I've ever had. But since we've been living together, I have no tolerance for his masturbating and staying up late browsing Internet porn, usually after satisfying sex. I know everyone says this, but I'm not a prude, and I do keep him satisfied, but I feel so conflicted. I should add that he sometimes assures me that not many guys would put up with my sexual history, which includes 50-plus lovers, some (cured) STDs, an abortion, etc. In other words, he's kind of selectively open about sex.

I know that you believe in open relationships, and I know intellectually that I should let him have his freedom, but there is a nagging part of me that says it isn't quite right. I talked to him about it, and he agreed to stop, but he's still kind of resentful, and I'm sure he's doing it anyway. So, when do otherwise normal behaviors become true sex addiction and how does anyone know?

Love, Conflicted

Dear Connie:

This cult of yours, would these be the "rattlesnakes in the mailbox" people? They're scary. I'm scared. Then again, I don't really have a mailbox, and I suppose any snakes deposited on my stairs would just slither away before I got home.

You're confused about the definition of sex addiction because it's goddamned confusing, to the point where many sensible sex educators (me, for instance) have written the whole thing off. I'll accept "compulsion" – many people feel compelled to do stupid stuff that's bad for them and gets in the way of a productive life. They may need professional help to stop doing it. That's obvious, but sexual behavior as an addiction, directly analogous to heroin, nicotine, and so on? Curable by removing the stuff from your system, gradually or all at once? I think not. "Sex addiction" is compulsive, self-destructive behavior, analogous to gambling, eating, or shopping to excess, and potentially curable through therapy and sometimes medication, but not detox or cold turkey. Shaming the person and ordering her to swear off all sexual behavior including fantasy, for chrissake, is counterproductive, not to mention mean. You never were a sex addict. Your therapist caused you great, undue distress by labeling you as one. You were a normal person with an active sex life who ought to have been using condoms. That's all.

As for me believing in open relationships, I don't, as such. I believe in thoughtful individuals figuring out what sort of relationship works for them and doing what they can to achieve it. There's nothing intrinsically superior about open relationships, nor monogamous ones, for that matter. It's all about "whatever works."

I'm sure your new squeeze is wonderful, but he's not merely "selectively open," he's selectively judgmental. He is not above attempting to shame you into letting him do whatever he likes. "Not many men would tolerate your past" is a reminder that you are damaged goods and are lucky to get any man, let alone a prince like him. Yuck. You aren't a slut, he isn't a prince, and you shouldn't let him use your past as a weapon against you. Your past is no more shameful than his present; in other words, not shameful at all.

He's no sex addict, and wouldn't be even if there was such a thing. Perhaps you two can work out a deal: you let him have his porn, he stops treating you like the fallen woman he rescued from the gutter.

Love, Andrea