The Secret Life of a Hollywood Sex Addict
In this excerpt from “Secret Life of a Hollywood Sex & Love Addict: A Novel,” author Brianne Davis dramatizes how she overcame her addiction in a town where sex is a commodity.
Give me a freaking break—I just turned 30, I was newly sober in Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (SLAA), didn’t have a boyfriend, the television show I starred in had just got canceled and I was officially unemployed. To say I was a little depressed was underplaying the situation. More like I was miserable, lonely, and kind of tipsy from the afternoon champagne at the Hotel Bel Air.
A hotel is never a good place for a sex and love addict. Hollywood isn’t a good place for us either. A double whammy!
I headed up to the presidential suite for a nightcap with this successful trio—Coolgirl, Superstar, and his business manager, Suit. I knew no good could come from this situation, but I stepped into the lion’s den. I didn’t realize at the time that I was the poor little sheeple.
When we entered the suite, Superstar pulled Suit aside to tell him something important. Who knows what was transpiring over in that corner, but it did not look good.
I tried to lean toward them to hear what these players were discussing, but Coolgirl pulled me away and into the ginormous living room.
What the holy crap was this living room? My jaw hit the plush floor. It was bigger than my whole house. Probably 2,500 square feet with a freaking private infinity pool!
Good lord, the wealthy life was enticing. I could see why Coolgirl didn’t want to let it go. There I was, a humble little guest in their luxurious lifestyle.
Coolgirl leaned over, whispered into my ear, all gleeful like I hit the jackpot, “Roxie, Oh my god, Superstar wants to have a threesome with us.”
I looked at her with confusion, “Huh?” Yes, I was that drunk.
She continued her jubilant explanation, “He thinks you’re hot as fuck and loved you on your show.”
All I could think of at this point was—What? He watched my show? Yes, I know, I didn’t focus on the fact that my dear friend just asked me to do a threesome with her and her married boyfriend. Hollywood vanity strikes again.
She looked at me, waiting for my answer. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or make a scene, but I really didn’t want to do it.
I tried to explain to Coolgirl, “Lady, I love you. But you’re not my type. You’re sexy as hell and you know that. Thank you for thinking of me. I’m very flattered.” I thought that would appease her actress ego, but she was relentless. I quickly added, “Plus, I was doing that NO sex thing with SLAA, remember? I’m abstaining.”
She continued on her mission, “Girl, come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go down on you. Plus, he has the biggest dick ever and knows how to use it.”
I tried a different tactic with her drunk ass, “I’m just not the right candidate for this particular job. I’m going to politely decline and head home to walk my dog.”
Then the most bizarre thing happened.
She got down on her knees, causing her beaded dress to make clinking noises as they hit the tile floor while she begged me to join them. Her pleads were in rhythm with the beads. It was quite hypnotic and enticing. She was saying, “Please, Chica. You don’t have to do anything, I promise. You can just lie naked on the bed next to me, and that’s it. You could even fall asleep. He just likes to watch me with other girls and then fuck me. You don’t even have to sleep with him. I mean, that might be weird for me, but really, it’s not that big of a deal. Come on. For me? I’ll owe you.” She added, “I’d do it for you. And I promise not to tell anyone. Your sponsor doesn’t have to know.”
Rule 7: Let go of the people and things that trigger the SHIT out of you!
I was stunned. I was in a state of utter shock. My mouth was agape at the mention of my sponsor.
Coolgirl was my partner in crime, my wing-woman before SLAA. We had a blast together—dancing, shopping and drinking champagne. I loved her and considered her a dear friend.
I started to feel my conviction waver at her last plea as my codependency kicked in. “Please Roxie. For me! Please!!!!!!!”
At that exact moment, Suit walked out the door and Superstar waltzed into the gigantic room, grabbed Coolgirl’s hand without speaking a word. She grabbed my hand and he led us into the bedroom…
...What happens next? Did Roxanne go through with the threesome? Did she stick to her rule? YOU’VE GOT TO READ IT TO FIND OUT!
My book, Secret Life of a Hollywood Sex & Love Addict: A Novel, is a roman à clef based on my personal experience and vivid imagination with my recovery and addiction from sex and love. My heroine Roxanne struggles to learn how to change her life to realize that she is a sex and love addict. Much like I did, she embarks on a journey to survive the first year of recovery. She establishes her 10 rules to live by while navigating the glitzy concrete jungle of Hollywood.
It took me a long time to speak the truth about myself. I was always surrounded by secrets and lies, relishing in the double-life mentality and definitely the physical exploration of my sexuality.
Going through a year of withdrawal from sex and love addiction while trying to live in the real world was exhaustingly difficult—especially in Hollywood, where sexuality is a commodity. You wouldn’t think giving up on all forms of sexual gratification would be THAT horrible. Big fat nope! It was excruciating.
I hated what I saw in the mirror. I hated what I had become. It felt like a part of me was dying right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to stop the pain, nothing I could use to numb out. And none of my normal friends understood that I was trying to heal from my addiction to people. The only thing that could take the discomfort away, even for a couple minutes, was to act out again—such as hooking up with an ex, flirting with a bartender, or even intriguing with a male friend.
Some sex and love addicts date unavailable partners, some are addicted to porn, ex- lovers, or masturbation, while others depend on one-night stands. For me, the addiction told me that without men, without their attention, their love, and the power that came with that, I was nothing.
Eventually, the addictive game started to not be fun anymore. I was spinning too many secrets/lies, and I wasn’t getting the high I once got. So, I thought I needed to find a new partner. When they did not fix me, I obsessively started flirting and intriguing. Once they’re hooked, I would then throw them away. Just like an alcoholic, I couldn’t stop.
In the end, I realized there was nothing sexy about using someone else to get high. I had done it too many times. I was depleted. I was unhappy. Enough was enough.
The painful thing about sex and love addiction is it’s very hard to overcome. They call AA the last house on the block you want to enter, but Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (SLAA) is the shack in the back you refuse to go to. The average SLAA member can slip at least once or twice before they truly surrender to their disease.
What’s a slip when it comes to sex and love addiction?
It can be a variety of things for each person. Falling off the SLAA sobriety wagon can look like texting a guy, DMing a stranger on Instagram, hooking up with someone, or cheating on your boyfriend. Plus a million other activities people that are addicted use to act out.
“Sex and Love Addict” comes with a lot of hang-ups. Most believe it’s not a real addiction. But they are dead wrong—it is one of the hardest “isms” to get sober from. It’s unofficially the “Disease of MORE”—more attention, more love, more intrigue, more power, more control—pretty much more of everything. And I was a victim to its trap since the age of 12—of never having or being enough. Like I said, I was done being its slave.
That was over 11 years ago when I finally hit my knees and surrendered to the powerlessness over people. I walked into the first SLAA room in Los Angeles. That was after a brutal deep-dive session with my therapist, who gave me the extremely bad news that I was a sex and love addict. Instead of rejoicing in the fact that I was not alone in my struggles, I went into a negative fantasy of being a part of this group of losers. I thought my life was over. I thought the idea of not flirting, having multiple boyfriends, and showmances (relationships on set) would be boring. Aren’t you supposed to be obsessed with someone at work or always be on the lookout for the one?
Still, I went kicking and screaming to my first SLAA meeting in a fluorescent-lit church recreational room. I cried like a baby in the corner when I identified as a sex and love addict. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but the most rewarding. Mostly because I was tired of the lie-spinning, the drama, and the complete disconnection from reality.
I agreed to dive headfirst off the cliff and committed to trying something new. I could always go back to my acting out with men. That was the easy part. Why not do it differently?
That first year was a beast. I had to give up sex for a year, letting go of my vices like flirting, guy friends, eye contact with any men, even waiters. I let go of all forms of using the outside to fix my insides. Walking into that darkness is still the best thing I have ever accomplished.
Transformation is difficult, believe me—I didn’t want to change either. But so many people are struggling to connect in this world and don’t know there’s a way out. Nobody should have to go through that pain alone. It took me a long time to get help. Now that I have reached the other side, I am humbled by my disease.
Since I joined SLAA, word seems to have spread about our community, and many of my small meetings are now huge. I’m reassured to know others are willing to face their darkness so that they can heal. Maybe society has become desperate for change, self- love, and authenticity?
I want to be clear: I’m not saying SLAA is the only answer for a sex and love addict. Everyone has their own path to follow. For me, this program saved my life. I believe if you are struggling, it can save yours too.
After years of having a blind obsession with love and sex, after I went through the pain of facing my addiction, I was inspired to share my experience by writing the book. Who knows, maybe my “failures” can help others. Or maybe you can get a few laughs at my expense. Whatever floats your boat, I’m surely OK with it.
This is me, just throwing open the doors to my secrets by shining a light on my struggles. The rules in my book helped me find my true self and my serenity. What worked for me might not work for someone else. I can now share my experience, strength, and hope.
Even though I’m an actress by trade, in reality, I could be anyone. I could be your mother, your girlfriend, your sister or daughter. That’s the nature of this disease. It can affect anyone—no matter your gender, upbringing, status, or wealth.
All I know is I’m a grateful recovering sex and love addict. And when I look in the mirror, I’m starting to like what I see looking back at me.
Secret Life of a Hollywood Sex & Love Addict: A Novel, written by Brianne Davis, is available now. Excerpt reprinted with permission.