What to Focus On After You’ve Been Cheated On
I don’t like to disappoint people.
I work to not be a bother to others and I like to be liked.
On the surface, these might seem to be good qualities in a wife. I am conscientious and attentive and often put the needs of others above my own.
But there’s a dark side to this tendency in a relationship.
One that I only became aware of after my first marriage ended.
And one that I’ve had to actively work on improving both in my marriage and in my relationships in general.
I focused on my efforts on the following three areas –
As a natural people pleaser, I used to respond to other’s requests with a quick, “Sure,” before ever even checking with myself. This wasn’t fair to either one of us. I would easily neglect or un-prioritize my own needs in order to take care of the other person. And eventually, I would become resentful which would then bring an unspoken negative undercurrent to the interactions.
If you’re a people-pleaser, you’re not going to suddenly stop caring about those around you. But you can make the effort to give yourself just as much attention. Your feelings and your needs matter as well. Before agreeing – or volunteering – to do something for someone else, check in with yourself first. Is this an appropriate way to help? Are you in a good place to extend a hand? Is there something between a full “yes” and a total “no” that feels better?
It’s not selfish to take care of yourself. In fact, it’s necessary. If you give everything you have, you have a limited amount to give. If instead, you take the time to care for and replenish yourself, you end up with more to share.
I have a tendency to struggle when those I care about are irritable or grumpy. I will take on their mood as my responsibility to somehow diagnose and fix.
Yeah, I know.
Not. My. Job.
People-pleasers want those around them to be happy. And they easily take on the job of trying to make others happy. Yet it’s a job we’re guaranteed to fail.
This was the hard pill for me to swallow. It’s important to be able to say the hard things even if it disappoints – or even hurts – another person. And like with anything, it takes practice to get better.
Now, I’m not recommending that you start a side hustle as an internet troll, spewing vitriol wherever your fingers take you. What I am suggesting is that you practice speaking your truth. Say “no” to the invitation that you would normally agree to only out of obligation. If you’re not happy about a dynamic within the relationship, speak up. Learn to distinguish between your part – delivering these missives with kindness and clarity – and what is not your responsibility – the other person’s reaction to your words.
In order to be a good wife, I need to be willing and able to disappoint – and even hurt – my husband.
I hate even thinking about that. It’s the last thing I would ever want to do. But I’ve also learned that things left unsaid in an attempt to not cause someone pain only build in intensity until they eventually erupt.
In some ways, I am still a people-pleaser. I have to work to not take social media comments personally (I keep reminding myself that I’m not Burger King- they can’t always have it their way) and I have to be very intentional about the responsibilities I take on at work. But I’ve come a long way, in both awareness and action.
And that makes me happy.
We don’t come with emotion-handling software already installed. As young children, we were pure, unrestrained emotion. Any disappointment resulted in a red and tear-stained face and joy over the smallest delight would result in spontaneous and unselfconscious giggles.
And then, over the years, we received guidance on how to handle our emotions. Some of us heard the message that emotions are a sign of weakness and should be avoided at all cost. Others grew up in environments where emotions were a form of currency, used to get what you want from those around you.
Regardless of our particular emotional education, few of us mastered the curriculum by adulthood.
So here’s a little guidebook, a brief refresher on how to handle your emotions. Don’t worry if you still struggle with these reminders. Learning how to be human takes a lifetime.
It always breaks my heart a little when I hear someone say, “I shouldn’t feel that way.” Because they DO feel that way. And that is entirely okay. Judgment doesn’t make the emotion go away. All it does is frost it with a layer of self-criticism. Instead of judging the emotion, try asking yourself, “I wonder why I’m feeling this way?”
We are busy. And with so many tasks and people and apps always demanding our attention, our own internal emotional landscape often takes the back burner. Yet even if we don’t take the time to look, it’s still there, influencing everything that comes into our sphere. Slow down. Take a moment to notice how you’re feeling. Name it. But don’t become too comfortable. Emotions, like clouds, often pass. If you attach too much with a certain feeling, you’re interrupting this natural cycle.
It’s a good thing that most of us have gotten better at handling emotions over time. An entire office building of tantruming workers would be a little awkward. We need to be able to dial down our emotional intensity and filter our emotions through perspective and rationality. Yet sometimes we take this too far, stuffing down our emotions and locking them away. Of course, they are still there. Only now instead of whispering, they’re going to start screaming.
You feel the way you feel. That’s okay. What’s NOT okay is to cater to those feelings like they are some sort of monarch. For example, if you feel sad, feel sad. But you don’t need to work to become the best iteration of sadness that ever existed. Instead, feel sad and also hold yourself to your goals. And remember, you are not your feelings.
Have you ever told a hyper toddler to just sit still in a restaurant? How did that work out for you? Obviously, you can’t just let them unleash the beast within the establishment, but you can take them for a walk around the parking lot before dinner. Our emotions respond in much the same way. If you try to order them to sit and stay, disaster will ensure (and you may be thrown out of the restaurant), but you can channel your emotional energy in acceptable ways.
Our emotions are worth listening to. Our rational brains may be smart, but they are also prone to all sorts of fallacies and delusions (confirmation bias, anyone?). Our emotions operate a different level and are often able to pick up on things that our thinking selves are trying to talk us out of seeing. So listen. But also verify. Because much like the dog that sometimes barks at a falling leaf, our emotions sometimes get a little confused about what constitutes an actual threat. Feelings are not facts.
We are emotional beings. It’s okay to show your feelings. Yet so often when we do share, we do so with an expectation of how the other person will respond. And then if our expectations are unmet, we blame the emotion. When really the fault is with the unrealistic expectations. Emotions are uniquely personal. Although we all feel the same ones, we don’t always feel them in the same way or in response to the same things.
Divorce requires letting go – of the marriage, the dreams, the regrets and even the promises. Yet we often struggle to let go. If feels wrong. Scary. Unfamiliar and untested.
So instead, we grip, holding on even when the thing we’re holding on to only causes us harm.
Maybe you still see them as they were in the beginning of the relationship. Or, you see them as you want them to be. Regardless, you’re holding on to an image of them, a picture that is more in line with your wishes than their reality.
If only the affair hadn’t happened. Or the addiction. Or the growing distance after having children. Then, we tell ourselves, the marriage would still be okay. We cultivate this image of what our lives are supposed to be like and even when life trajectories change, we have a hard time letting go of Plan A.
We rail against our ex-partner, or their affair partner or some other factor that we blame for the relationship’s demise. We feel powerful in our anger, righteous and also purposeful. As long as we are angry, we at least have something.
It’s scary facing the world alone. And so we curl up in our cloak of “wronged one,” prompting others to render aide and support. Our pain becomes our identity. It’s proof that the relationship was important. That we were important.
We place our faith in the courts. Or God. Or karma. Thinking that bad things come to exes for those who simply wait long enough. We hold on to the idea that in order for us to be okay, we need for them to not be okay. We just want them to feel the pain too.

My ex was right. Well, partially right, at least.
In the typed letter (which, for some strange reason, was in duplicate) he left on the kitchen counter after leaving me via text message, he wrote this –
“I know that once you recover from the shock of this you will bounce back and live a happy and satisfying life – a life better and more honest than I could ever hope to offer you.”
I was livid the first time I read those words, almost 24 hours after receiving the text and with no other communication from him. My world was completely shattered. I was honestly afraid that this would literally be the end of me, as the shock and trauma were so all-encompassing. I was fighting to breathe and at the starting line for the fight of my life.
And those two little words – “bounce back” – seemed to minimize and dismiss everything he had done. As though embezzling from, cheating on and abandoning your wife is on par with recovering from the flu and I would “bounce back” and be as good as new after some rest and perhaps some soup.
Needless to say, that’s not what happened.
Well, not exactly.
I collapsed.
I cried.
I shook.
And grieved.
Learned to breathe.
Opened my eyes.
I crawled.
I took some wobbly steps.
And fell again.
I got back up.
Took some more steps.
Got a little stronger.
Went the wrong direction.
Cried again.
Got angry.
Tried to climb.
Too soon.
Declared I would make it.
Secretly doubted it.
Put on a brave face.
Hid a terrified heart.
Started to trust again.
Built a wall.
Started to love again.
Felt foolish.
And hopeful.
Had good days.
And terrible moments.
Wondered if I was broken.
Too damaged.
Tried climbing again.
Fingers bloodied from the effort.
Heart pounding.
But felt good.
Alive.
I hit rock bottom.
And I made it back.
But I never bounced.
I fought like hell for every inch.
Every breath.
Every step.
Yet he was right.
I am now living a happier and more satisfying life than I ever did with him.
And I may not have bounced back, but I got there. And that’s the part that matters.