Bears Cornerback Jaylon Johnson Explains Why He Opened Up About His Treatment for Sex Addiction
Photograph: Getty Images; Collage: Gabe Conte
On March 11, Jaylon Johnson held a press conference at the iconic Halas Hall on the occasion of his signing a four-year, $76 million contract extension with the Chicago Bears. He was fresh off a breakout season in which he emerged as a star on an up-and-coming Bears defense — and no city adores defenders quite like Chicago. Johnson had every reason to feel invincible and untouchable, but he didn’t feel that way. He needed to be honest about that.
“I went to therapy last season for sexual addiction,” he offered unsolicited, 45 seconds into the presser. “That was the hardest thing for me to open up to my therapist about, as that is something nobody knew about.”
Johnson’s proclamation would have stuck out regardless of the setting, but being this transparent at an otherwise nondescript press conference felt especially notable. Yet 15 minutes elapsed before a reporter asked a follow-up question about it. When another reporter clumsily referred to Johnson’s addiction as an “episode” and “a danger,” Johnson politely interrupted and challenged him on it. Johnson briefly touched on his disclosure during a few subsequent interviews with Chicago and national outlets, but the lack of substantial follow-up seemed to suggest a broader issue with talking about addiction with nuance and understanding. But Jaylon Johnson doesn't seem to feel anxiety about continuing to open up—and, as a result, is poised to help lead conversations about masculinity, objectification, and sexuality rare in the world of sports.
It started with some serious self-examination. “I had to change how I looked at myself—as a king, someone exclusive, giving myself away,” Johnson told GQ during a wide-ranging phone call from his home in Las Vegas. “The way I see myself now is not the way that I saw myself a year ago.”
You’re walking up to that podium knowing that you’re about to tell a room full of unsuspecting people, and then an internet full of even more people, that you sought therapy for sex addiction. What are you feeling?
I was nervous. But the hardest thing for me to ever have done was to tell the truth to myself first. Being open and vulnerable [at the presser] was easier than telling my family—talking to my brother about going to therapy or talking to my girl about going to therapy—because those are the people that I love the most, and you want to try to be perfect for them. For me, it's harder doing it the first time. Of course, it took me some time to come up with what to write. But I just had to really trust God. That was my biggest thing about saying it because I wanted to give credit to God, but I couldn't truly give him the credit, the honor, and the glory without telling people what I went through.
People go up there and thank God for blessing them with all the things, but I’m like, no, tell him how God has really helped you. So, of course, going up there was an uncomfortable feeling, but it wasn't anything compared to the truths I've had to tell myself and my family and what I've had to go through in therapy. I think [the press conference] was probably the easiest thing that I've done regarding my addiction.
When was the first time you said it out loud?
Last preseason made me come to the realization that maybe [I needed to address] something a little deeper. Patterns are patterns. I've told myself, “Okay, let me try to turn away from it.” And I've always found my way back to it. It was something that I've thought about for years, but [I’d tell myself] it’s not what I'm thinking it is. I kept blowing it off.
Going into last season, I went through some things in my relationship, and I ended up telling my girl that I genuinely think that I have a sexual addiction because the things that keep going on and the way that I keep coming back to: certain things aren't okay. I didn't want to keep hurting her. I didn’t want to lose my girl. I told her, “Look, I don't really have answers to everything, but I know that I need help. I know this isn't just not knowing right from wrong, but it's me knowing it's wrong and still feeling like I just have to do it.” I didn’t want to live like that. For myself, of course, but I didn’t want to do that to her. And I have a daughter. I don’t want to be a hypocritical parent. Even my relationship with God. I'm spiritual, but I feel like that part of me was blocking off my blessings from God.
I mean, I was in therapy as a kid when my parents got divorced, and I was like, Man, therapy is not for me. But I went to the Bears’ therapist and explained, “Hey, this is where my thoughts are at.” From there, it was about finding the right [therapist] and building a relationship with that therapist.
Was there shame involved?
Yes and no. The way that I was raised, everything was always to be perfect, to excel and be exceptional, and to be the standard. Even when my parents got divorced, having to be strong, having to take care of my mom when my mom got sick [with] lupus. So, when I was going through this in the dark, it was something that I turned into my outlet. Over time, I started to see it as something that I really didn’t think I should come out and talk about—or not knowing how to come out and talk about it. So I was like, I’ll just handle it on my own.
Honestly, I think trying to handle it on my own dug me into a deeper hole. I didn't have anybody to hold me accountable. My girl was the one to really push me and confront me on it. That was probably the most uncomfortable and shameful thing—working through it with her. And talking to my brother. On an off day, I’d be like, “Hey, bro, I got therapy.” And he was like, “What the hell you mean you got therapy? You ain't never had therapy before.” Of course, being in the Black community, we are not going to seek out therapy. It's something that we're trying to trend toward.
But the first time talking about it was definitely the biggest identity challenge I've felt. Normally, man, you feel on top of the world when you’re in the NFL. When the things that you swept under the rug come out—especially by the woman that you love and the woman that you see your future with—it's like, Damn, I ain't even all that.
Sex is celebrated or glamorized, especially for men. You mentioned the highest highs of being in the NFL, but you’ve been perceived as “the man” since you were a teenager. Did that make it more difficult to come to terms with this as self-destructive behavior?
It's complex. Being “the man” definitely didn't help. [Sex] turned into my vice. I've never smoked in my life. I didn't even drink until college, and I still barely drink. I don't have any hobbies. I've never had anything outside of sports and girls. As I’m coming up in high school, I'm the man getting scholarship offers, being a popular guy. It was at my fingertips. I just started slowly building a habit that, at the time, I didn't look at as a bad thing. Like, I’m just out here having fun. But I think the devil was definitely very precise in how he got to me, because nothing else was an issue. I didn't get in trouble. I was good, top-to-bottom, outside of that.
The devil is the most menacing offensive coordinator you’ve ever faced.
Hey, facts! The devil knew exactly what he was doing. Little seeds are being planted—like, I'm not doing anything physically, but I may say a flirtatious comment here and there—and after a certain point, that seed that you planted comes up. Fast forward: Now, I'm in the NFL. I told myself after I got out of my last relationship, I'm not worried about nothing. I'm going to take care of my daughter, do what I need to do in the league, and do me. Then, I met the love of my life. Everything about her was uncomfortable. I was comfortable with her, but her presence was so strong, and I knew that God sent her to correct me. She started challenging me in every way. I was kind of trying to fight it a little bit, and it got me into trouble. She just stayed at me. For me, going into this past season, I needed to have a big season to get the contract that I wanted, but I tell people last season was probably the easiest season I've ever had. And I think a large part of it was because I was vulnerable.
How has the discipline you've developed for football translated to the discipline necessary to heal?
Once you crack the code and learn the effects of discipline in one area, it's easy to apply it in a lot of areas. I became a hard worker probably in my junior year of high school. Ever since that time, in football and training, I have welcomed discomfort. I know I'm going to grow when I'm uncomfortable. If I'm not sore—if I’m not hurting at the end—I’m not going hard enough. I want that growth so much.
Even just having certain conversations with guys in the locker room. That was never something that I did before [therapy], but now, I'm going to talk to my teammates, like, “Hey, y'all boys, let's talk about this.” I'll be the first one to tell you: The only book I read is the playbook. But I just keep pushing myself to be better mentally, so [I want to] read books. It was never a physical thing; it was always a mental thing for me.
I understand where you’re coming from because I have anorexia and body dysmorphia. I can never be sober from food, and you can never be sober from intimacy. What tools help you live in that dangerous territory of constantly tempting the vice because you need it to survive?
I think it’s all perspective because you can't completely avoid it, but you can change the way that you see it. God created food for us because we have to eat to function. God created us to love one another, to have sex, and to reproduce. For me, it’s just knowing it's not my purpose to sexualize women. That’s not what I’m here for. I'm here to love one woman.
Moving forward, I’m looking at my woman as the only woman who's going to get any intimacy out of me. I have an eye for her that nobody else will get from me. It's not that I can never think about sex. It's a beautiful thing when you do it right. There's nothing wrong with sex. It's just how you’re doing it, when you're doing it, and who’re you doing it with.
I listen to Dax Shepard’s Armchair Expert podcast, and he had author, addiction specialist, and physician Gabor Maté on last fall. I want to read you his framing of addiction to see how it squares with your experience: “Your addictions, my addictions were adaptations. Adaptations to what? Emotional pain. Where is that pain sourced? Trauma. Addictions are not diseases that you inherit. They're not bad habits that you choose. They're desperate attempts to relieve suffering.”
That's exactly what the hell I learned in freaking therapy! The addiction comes from somewhere. You learn to adapt to cope with your trauma by doing whatever your addiction is. When I was in therapy, I wasn't even truly talking too much about the sexual part of it. I was talking about the root of it. Where did it even come from? Diving into and dissecting my life, the splitting up of my family, you’re just looking for something to ease the pain or distract you from the things that you went through. I was just like, Damn, I would've never thought about it like that. I thought it was just for fun, but it's not. Subconsciously, you're doing it because you want something that feels good. Because you aren't feeling good—something has happened that triggered your trauma. It’s not just about the action; it's about the foundation. It's about the heart posture that you have that's leading you to do it because you're not doing anything that your heart doesn’t desire. That’s not how humans work. Your heart feels certain things, and you do certain things because of how you feel. The Bible says to make your heart like God, and God will give you all the desires of your heart because your heart is in the right place. You can't change what you want without changing your heart.
What do you wish people who don't have addictive personalities could understand about addiction?
Honestly, I would probably say that it's not intentional. I don't think that people intentionally choose to have addictions. People will be like, “Oh, you can just stop doing this.” If I could just stop doing it, you don't think I would've stopped doing it? It’s not as simple as what people see on the outside. Like we were talking about, it’s a reaction to trauma. At the end of the day, people who have addictions [are] running from a certain feeling, or you're used to doing something because of what you have to do to survive emotionally. People don't think about that part of it. If they’re not going through something, people just lack compassion and empathy.
Why do you think people can be so quick to dismiss sex and love addiction as an addiction at all?
To me, when you think of love, you think sex is always a part of it. So, I think people normalize it. Or people find ways to twist it and turn it to where it’s like, “Oh, it's just sex.” But if you don't really understand sex, then you're not going to understand the consequences of it, and I think, a lot of times, people don't really understand what sex was meant for.
When you decided to share this publicly, were you more nervous about becoming a target of judgment or more hopeful that you could support other people?
I didn't give a damn about judgment. If you're not going to tell the truth about your life, then don't talk about somebody who is telling the truth about theirs. My vice is no different than your vice. We all have areas that we need help in. This is one of the big things that I don't enjoy about being an athlete: Because our business gets put out, everybody acts like nobody else has any business. When we get fired, everybody knows about it. We get a divorce, it's all on ESPN. But if the manager at JCPenney gets a divorce, nobody gives a damn.
Just because our profession is televised doesn't mean that we're exempt from life. It doesn't mean that we're exempt from hardship. It doesn't mean that we're exempt from being imperfect. And I think people lose sight of, like, bro, we're all human. You're going through shit. I'm going through shit. The shit that I go through just gets put out there. But I don't have no shame in it.
Have any of your NFL peers reached out to you?
Yeah, I've heard from a few guys. As Black men, we go through it all the time. I think Black men get sexualized to where it’s objectifying. That’s just how we’re looked at. When we indulge in all these things, we look at ourselves how everybody else looks at us. We really have to watch what we do, how we think about ourselves, and how we think about people. If not, we'll continue to give ourselves away and have no control.
It’s been great having that dialogue with different guys [who] understand and have been through similar things. At the end of the day, we're all here on Earth for each other. Nobody can get through anything alone. Being open and honest will help yourself, of course, and then help others around you.
Originally Appeared on GQ
