Have you ever finally had the courage to ask for help—only to discover that the advice you received didn’t actually help?
What happens when the people you trust love Jesus, care about you, and genuinely want to help, but their advice leaves you with more shame, confusion, and hurt?
And what if that doesn’t happen just once?
What if you receive bad advice for more than 10 years?
That became a significant part of our story.
From first opening up about pornography as a teenager, to conversations while dating, premarital counseling, marriage, and eventually the aftermath of betrayal, we kept reaching out for help.
And much of the advice came from people we genuinely respected and trusted.
The problem was, it wasn’t helping.
When “Just Stop” Isn’t Enough
One of the earliest responses Clinton received when he opened up about pornography was essentially:
“Just stop.”
But he already knew he wanted to stop. That was the reason he was asking for help in the first place.
Knowing what you’re doing is wrong isn’t the same as understanding why you keep doing it.
For years, much of the advice focused on changing the behavior without ever helping us understand what was underneath it.
There were deeper things happening—pain, loneliness, shame, coping, emotional needs, attachment, and patterns that had developed over time.
Simply telling someone to stop doesn’t give them the tools to understand those things or learn a different way to respond.
And when “just stop” didn’t work, the message we began absorbing was:
Maybe the problem is me.
When Trying Harder Becomes the Answer
Then came advice like:
“Read your Bible more.”
“Pray harder.”
The difficult part was that Clinton was doing those things.
He loved Jesus. He was reading Scripture. He was praying. He was involved in ministry. He genuinely wanted freedom.
So when the struggle continued despite doing the things he had been told would fix it, it created an even deeper spiritual question:
What’s wrong with me?
Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.
Maybe my faith isn’t strong enough.
Maybe God isn’t answering me.
At different points, even Clinton’s salvation was questioned because the struggle hadn’t gone away.
That kind of advice didn’t just affect how we viewed recovery. Eventually, it began affecting how we viewed God.
“Once You Get Married, It Will Get Better”
Another piece of advice we received was that marriage—and specifically sex within marriage—would help solve the problem.
Then, within marriage, some of the advice became:
“Have more sex.”
That created an entirely different kind of damage.
Because now the responsibility wasn’t only on Clinton to somehow try harder.
It began landing on Charity, too.
If sex was supposed to solve this problem, what did it mean when it didn’t?
Was she not enough?
Did she need to be more available?
Was it somehow her responsibility to keep him from struggling?
Those are incredibly heavy burdens to place on a spouse.
One of the things we eventually had to learn was:
Your spouse isn’t responsible for managing your recovery.
Sex isn’t a treatment plan for sexual addiction. And placing that responsibility on a spouse—especially one who has experienced betrayal—can create even more pain instead of healing.
When Bad Advice Makes You Question Yourself
This may be one of the hardest parts of our story to recognize looking back:
When their advice didn’t work, we didn’t immediately question the advice—we questioned ourselves.
We trusted the people helping us.
Many of them were pastors, mentors, leaders, or people we respected spiritually.
So naturally, we assumed they knew what to do.
When their recommendations didn’t produce change, our conclusion wasn’t necessarily, Maybe this person isn’t equipped to help us with this.
It was:
Maybe we’re the problem.
And we carried some of those messages for years.
Good Intentions Aren’t the Same as Being Equipped
We want to be really careful here because this isn’t about villainizing the people who tried to help us.
Many of them cared deeply.
They loved Jesus.
They loved us.
They genuinely wanted things to get better.
But someone can love you deeply and still not be equipped to help you with what you’re facing.
We talked in the podcast about thinking of it like a first responder.
If someone arrives at a serious medical emergency, we don’t expect every person who wants to help to perform surgery. Wisdom sometimes means recognizing the limits of your training and getting that person to someone who has the expertise they need.
We need more of that in ministry and recovery.
Sometimes one of the wisest and safest things someone can say is:
“This is outside my lane.”
Followed by:
“But I’m not leaving you alone in it. Let’s find someone who can help.”
That isn’t failure.
That’s good care.
What Good Help Actually Sounds Like
Looking back, there are so many moments where a different response could have changed things for us.
Instead of:
“Just stop.”
What if someone had said:
“I don’t fully understand this, but I want to help you find someone who does.”
Instead of:
“Pray harder.”
What if the response had been:
“How can I walk with you spiritually while we also find the right support?”
Instead of telling a married couple to:
“Have more sex.”
What if someone had made it clear:
“Your spouse isn’t responsible for managing your recovery.”
Good help doesn’t always mean having the answer.
Sometimes good help means listening.
Sometimes it means asking better questions.
Sometimes it means recognizing what is underneath the behavior instead of only trying to stop the behavior.
And sometimes good help means knowing when you aren’t the person who should be providing the answer.
What Do You Do With the Bad Advice You’ve Already Received?
Recognizing bad advice is one thing.
Healing from its impact is another.
For us, part of that process has looked like learning to name it.
We can acknowledge that something hurt us without deciding the person who said it was malicious.
We can grieve it.
Some advice costs us something. Maybe it kept us stuck longer. Maybe it increased shame. Maybe it affected our marriage or changed the way we saw ourselves.
We can also begin to separate people’s advice from God’s heart.
This has been especially important for us.
When the people giving you advice are representing Jesus, it can become difficult to separate what they told you from what you believe God thinks about you.
There have been places where we’ve had to go back and invite Jesus into that pain—to tell Him honestly what happened, what it did to us, and how it affected our relationship with Him.
And then we had to keep looking for help.
Don’t Give Up on Finding Good Help
This may be the part of our story we most want people to hear.
We didn’t give up.
Even after years of advice that didn’t help, Clinton continued believing that healing was possible.
Eventually, we found people who understood what we were facing.
People who had training.
People who understood betrayal trauma and sexual addiction.
People who could help us understand not only what was happening, but why it was happening—and give us practical tools for what to do next.
That changed so much for us.
So if you’ve received bad advice from someone you trusted, we hope you don’t interpret that experience as proof that help doesn’t exist.
Maybe someone loved you but didn’t know how to help you.
Maybe someone gave you an answer that created more shame instead of freedom.
Maybe you’ve spent years believing something about yourself—or even something about God—because of what someone told you.
You are allowed to go back and look at those messages again.
You are allowed to grieve what they cost you.
You are allowed to find someone who is actually equipped for what you’re facing.
And you don’t have to give up.
There are people who know how to help.
And Jesus is willing to meet you in the places of pain.
Listen to the full episode of the Restored 2 More Podcast: Recovering From 10+ Years of Bad Advice.