A man sitting on stairs
Matt Lachman Credit: Justina Roberts

Welcome to Ask a Cleveland Sex Therapist. Want to ask Matt a question that could be tackled in a future column? Click here. Now, onto this week’s topic.

Hi Matt –

Can porn use be considered cheating? My partner consistently uses porn as “maintenance” instead of choosing to have sex with me. This leaves me feeling neglected, rejected, and hurt… not to mention sexually frustrated. It feels like cheating because he’s choosing an external sexual outlet instead of engaging with me. When I have tried to talk to him about it he insists this is “normal” and “not a problem.” What can I do?

Porn. A single word that can cause such a strong reaction from people. For some, it sparks joy or arousal; for others, it triggers discomfort or fear. Porn often gets blamed for everything from low desire to infidelity, yet so few relationships actually talk openly about what it means to them. As I write this, I think about if I have ever felt threatened by a partner watching porn. Maybe in my early relationships when I felt as though I had to be everything for my partner. But these days, that is definitely not the case. The truth is that porn isn’t inherently harmful or inherently helpful. It’s a tool, a form of entertainment, and a type of fantasy. Can it be misused? Absolutely! But because we layer it with our insecurities, our cultural messaging, and our unspoken expectations about monogamy, it becomes much bigger and more emotional than the photos or videos themselves. Before we can make sense of porn’s place in a relationship, we have to slow down and get honest about the stories we’ve inherited about desire, fidelity, and what it means to be in a relationship.

Before we can even begin to talk about whether porn counts as “cheating,” we have to get clear on what cheating actually is. Cheating is a form of non-consensual non-monogamy, meaning one or both partners have not agreed to sexual or romantic engagement with someone outside the relationship. It’s the secrecy and the breach of trust that define infidelity. What makes something cheating isn’t the behavior in isolation; it’s that one partner steps outside the agreements the relationship is built on. It’s also important to name that cheating is not the same as consensual non-monogamy (CNM). CNM relationships (e.g. polyamory, open relationships, swinging, etc.), are grounded in consent, transparency, and mutually agreed-upon boundaries. So, whether we’re talking about monogamy, polyamory, or anything in between, the core issue is the same: cheating is defined by broken agreements, secrecy, and a rupture of trust. So, where does porn fit into all of this?

When we bring porn into the conversation, things tend to get sticky (for lack of a better word). Not because porn is inherently a violation, although some people reading this probably disagree with that statement and if you are one of those people, I encourage you to work on whatever judgements you are holding onto. The problem is that people in relationships rarely talk about it clearly. Porn, by itself, is not a person you’re romantically involved with. It’s a sexual stimulus, a form of erotic media. I like to say it is the Marvel Cinematic Universe of sexually explicit material. So, the question isn’t “Is porn cheating?” The real question is: What agreements do you and your partner have around sexual expression, privacy, and shared values?

For some couples, porn is neutral or even beneficial. For others, it brings up insecurity and fear. None of that makes porn wrong, it just means the relationship needs clearer communication and better boundaries. Remember, cheating is defined by those in the relationship. So if a relationship has explicitly agreed to limit or not use porn, and someone hides it, that secrecy is the issue, not the porn itself. Conversely, if there was never a conversation about porn, you cannot retroactively call it cheating simply because it evokes discomfort. My hope for everyone in this world is to work on that discomfort and if they find that they want to be with someone who never engages with porn, we call that a boundary and I support that, one hundred percent.

What is interesting about your question is the use of the word “maintenance.” When I think of that word being used to describe porn, my brain gets a little scrambled. Does he mean that because he has so much sexual energy that between sexual encounters with you, he watches porn to have an outlet for himself? If that is the case, then it doesn’t sound like he doesn’t want to have sex with you. Instead, it sounds like he likes to have another outlet. Porn becomes a problem when it replaces communication, creates emotional distance, or is used to avoid the relationship, not because watching porn itself is inherently harmful or immoral. At its core, porn only “counts” as cheating when it violates the agreements you and your partner have established. If those agreements don’t exist yet, that’s the invitation. Talk about it and create a shared understanding that supports both intimacy and more importantly, autonomy.

I always find that the bigger question beneath “Is porn cheating?” is often far more vulnerable: Why do we as partners feel as though we need to be the only outlet for our partner’s sexuality? That pressure, on you, on them, and on the relationship, creates a dynamic where any expression of desire outside the relationship feels threatening, even when it isn’t a betrayal. If your partner masturbates or watches porn, is the frustration truly about the content, or is it about the fear that their desire isn’t exclusively directed toward you? I get it. There is this underlying notion that because we get into a monogamous relationship, our brains are supposed to flip a switch and suddenly stop finding others attractive. Our sexual selves existed way before we formed romantic relationships and problems tend to arise (i.e. infidelity, secrecy, shame) when we are expected to shut that part of ourselves off without discussion.

I would also be deeply curious about your own relationship with self-pleasure. Many of us were raised in cultures that taught shame around masturbation, desire, fantasy, or erotic exploration. If you’ve never had space to explore your own sexuality without judgment, it makes perfect sense that your partner’s private erotic life might bring up discomfort. But your partner’s masturbation isn’t a referendum on your worth or desirability. It’s a normal, healthy part of being a sexual human. When we can separate our partner’s self-pleasure from our own insecurities, the conversation shifts from “How do I stop this?” to “What does this bring up in me, and how can we talk about it in a way that strengthens our connection instead of eroding it?”

Listen, I don’t want this to read as if I am saying you are the problem here because that is not the case. There is always more to the story, and what I would say to do is sit down and have a conversation with him about how it makes you feel when he dismisses your concern. Just because he says it is, “not a problem,” doesn’t mean that it does not impact you. There is a disruption occurring around your intimate life that needs tended to. I also don’t want you to feel like you are competing with porn or masturbation, because it is not a competition. You won. You are the one in the relationship with him and my hope is that the relationship is filled with deep, emotional vulnerability that continues to help you two evolve together. Porn is simple. It is entertainment. You are complex and provide way more to this relationship than just sex. Keep speaking up when you feel dismissed and also spend some time reflecting on where these thoughts and fears come from. At the end of the day, I think both matter.

Matt Lachman is a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor and Supervisor, AASECT Certified Sex Therapist, and owner of Cleveland Sex Therapy, located in the heart of Gordon Square. Since opening Cleveland Sex Therapy in 2019, Matt has been dedicated to promoting sex positivity and inclusivity in his work with individuals, couples, and polyamorous relationships. When he’s not helping clients navigate their sexual and relational journeys, you can find him enjoying a cold brew at Gypsy Beans, sipping a cocktail at Luxe, or relaxing on his couch watching reruns of Happy Endings. Ask a question of your own here.

Disclaimer: The advice provided in this column is intended for generalinformational purposes only and should not be considered a substitute for professional therapy or mental health treatment. Each individual’s situation is unique, and the insights offered here may not address the complexities of your specific circumstances. If you’re experiencing challenges related to your mental health, relationships, or sexuality, I strongly encourage you to reach out to a licensed therapist or mental health professional for personalized support. You’re not alone—help is available.

Subscribe to Cleveland Scene newsletters.

Follow us: Apple News | Google News | NewsBreak | Reddit | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter | Or sign up for our RSS Feed