Australian reality TV star Belinda Love Rygier says she had over 700 sex encounters and that her addiction to sex “ruled her life.”
She explained how she managed to overcome her addiction and lead a normal life.
Belinda “Love” Rygier, who made her television debut in the 2017 season of The Bachelor Australia, revealed that she has been single for 15 months and is a client of a recovery center.
The 38-year-old woman disclosed that her only purpose for going out six nights a week was to meet new sex partners.
When her addiction was at its worst, dating apps weren’t as publicly accessible, the Australian personality admitted.
Words from a Past Sexual Addict
When approached to speak on a radio program, Belinda said she “didn’t realize she had a problem until she healed from it,” according to Mirror.
The woman said, “After I recovered, I was positive that an unresolved trauma from my past caused my sex addiction.”
Despite the fact that her sex addiction had taken over her life, the woman maintains she was a “functional addict,” leading a wonderful life that functioned well and kept her secrets hidden.
The TV personality asserts that she has “lost count” of the number of men she has had sexual relations with over the years, but she is certain that the tally exceeds “seven hundred.”
She did, however, declare that she is “not ashamed” of the number of sexual partners she has had and that she still has a “high sexual desire.”
“The woman expressed that her desire was to feel beautiful, validated, and loved; men were great at providing me with the information I wanted to hear.”
Why is she not having sex right now?
Belinda said, “Sex is used for the wrong reason—quick or fleeting validation from others. Society has declined.”
She admitted that in the past, engaging in sexual activity required a strong emotional connection. “I’ll have sex again, but with someone I truly connect with this time.”
With thousands of fans, the TV star has become a social media “love guru,” routinely appearing on shows to impart life lessons to her audience.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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