After the Affair: The Ones Who Choose to Stay

It’s a common refrain regarding an affair –

“If somebody cheated on me, I’d be out of there in a heartbeat.”

I get it. In fact, I even said it long before I ever had the opportunity to put it in practice. But it’s also a naive statement.

After all, it’s easy to proclaim certainty when you’re engaged in a purely hypothetical mental exercise.

And it’s very different when it’s your actual life and the consequences of your decision may have serious impact. That decision that once seemed so black and white has now grown muddied and vague as the one whom you love is the same one to cause your pain.

Society has a tendency to blame those that are victims of an affair. They are portrayed as blind or cold, nagging or repressed. And this judgment is only amplified when the betrayed makes the decision to stay with their spouse despite the knowledge of the infidelity. They face double the shame – first for being cheated on and then for allowing their partner to “get away with it.”

Often that criticism is welded by those that (to their knowledge) have never been cheated on. They feel superior in their belief that infidelity only happens to those that are somehow lacking and that if you eliminate the cheater, you fix the problem. Their words are dictated by fear; by speaking with certainty, they are able to believe they are safe.

Other times, the judgment comes from people like me, those that have been betrayed and were not given the option to stay. Instead of fear, this condemnation is rooted in jealousy that some people are presented with this opportunity. This can be intensified by the mental gymnastics that often occur after abandonment where the one who is discarded convinces themselves that it was what they really wanted anyway.

An affair is a wake-up call. Don’t sleep through it.

And it’s true – sometimes those who choose to stay with an unfaithful partner are being foolish. Maybe they are being willfully blind and stupidly hopeful. Perhaps they are so afraid of being alone that they prefer the devil they know. Or their self worth has been so damaged that they believe that they deserve a philandering spouse.

But that is not always the case. There are some who have been betrayed who make a very deliberate and conscious decision to stay, a choice born from facing hard truths instead of denying them and the willingness of the cheating spouse to work to heal the marriage.

The harsh light of truth is now shining on their marriage and they are making their choice with their eyes wide open.

They Accept That Risk is an Inherent Part of Marriage

If I could invent a way to ensure an affair-proof relationship, I’d be rich. While it is certainly true that some people are far more likely to cheat than others, it is a fallacy that you can guarantee that cheating won’t occur simply because you choose someone who seems to operate from an ethical and honest place.

It is tempting to think that you can remove infidelity from your life simply by removing the perpetrator.

But it’s not that simple.

Especially because the pain and emotional wounds will follow you. And left unaddressed, they will fester even with a new partner. No matter what, you have to do the work to heal.

Those that make the decision to stay are able to separate the person they love from the pain that they caused. Weighing the options, they decide that they would rather work to mend what they have instead of taking similar risks with someone new. They accept that risk is the price of love. And they’re willing to chance that the investment they have made in their marriage will pay off in the long run.

Their Partner and Their Marriage Have Transformed

Regardless of the outcome, an affair profoundly changes everyone within its sphere of influence. And some people use this as an opportunity to renegotiate the terms and agreements within their marriage.

In relationships of any duration, roles, responsibilities and reactions become more habit than intentional. The earthquake of an affair shakes up the status quo and provides an opening for more deliberate choices that meet the needs of today instead of those formed years ago.

Sometimes this transformation is more visible in one partner – the quiet, more reserved spouse decides to be more assertive with their needs and wants or the more controlling partner makes the decision to take a step back. They use this crisis as a springboard for positive change. In fact, some of the best couples I know have been through infidelity in their past. Not that I’d recommend it as an alternative to marriage counseling!

Other couples may change the structure of their marriage, choosing to engage in consensual non-monogamy. Again, an affair is NOT the preferred way to initiate this conversation, but it can be the factor that gets the ball rolling.

They Are Choosing to Make Sacrifices For Their Greater Good

And then there are those that decide that the marriage is more important than their feelings for their partner. They intentionally decide to ignore the infidelity so that the marriage can continue.

Sometimes this decision is made for the sake of the children, believing that a two-parent household is preferable if the affair is kept discrete. Others may be in the public eye and decide that the risk of revealing the truth comes at too great a cost. And some may simply determine that they come out on top when weighing their partner’s assets against their betrayals.

Staying is not a sign of weakness. Strength is shown when you make the decision that is right for you regardless of the opinion of others.

Ultimately, it is not my place (nor anyone else’s who is standing outside the relationship) to decide if somebody should give their partner a second chance after an affair. That is an extremely personal and difficult decision that each person needs to make with their own interest in mind. Make the choice that is right for you and give others the space to make the decision that is right for them.

The Importance of Rituals

We mark life’s important milestones with rituals – words and actions, often shared with others, that become a signpost that one stage has ended and another has begun. After death, we gather to pay our respects and to remember the life that blessed us with its presence. We use graduations ceremonies to delineate the end of childhood and the beginning of a new, more independent stage. Birth announcements are sent so that the larger community can share in the joy of a birth. Celebration dinners are held to acknowledge birthdays or promotions and flowers are sent in solitary to those in grief.

Rituals provide a shared language, a way to both announce the transition and to allow others to share in its experience. In ritual, we acknowledge the importance of any loss or any new gains. There is comfort in the action, especially when it suggests a next step when your vision is clouded over with emotion. Rituals both honor the past and allow for change; they are the spiritual linkage between what was and what will be.

Rituals provide a pause.

A collective breath. A rare moment to simply be in the between. An opportunity to connect through shared memories and possibly shared tears.

Some rituals are more private – the silent prayer, the daily scribbles in a journal, or the annual review of important photographs on an anniversary. Yet even these provide a sense of connection, providing a feeling of being part of something greater than ourselves.

Without hours of returning to alien and vacuous house after my husband abandoned me, I engaged in spontaneous rituals of my own. I burned love notes that I had written to him in the outdoor fire pit that we had recently bought together. Each pledge of love fed to the flame brought a new wave of fresh tears and each charred fleck of paper that escaped towards the sky brought with it a new sense of hope for rebirth.

Later that night, possessed with restless energy and filled with grief that alternated between rage and sadness, I gathered up his things, hauling trash bag after trash bag to the garage. I needed to finalize his exit by the removal of the evidence of his existence.

Over time, the rituals became less frenetic and more purposeful. I committed to daily entries in my journal, many of which were a way to say goodbye. I took one last walk through my garden, touching each plant as I passed. The tangible detritus of our marriage in the form of photos and letters was packed away until I could decide what to do with it. And the night my divorce was finalized was a strange parody of a birthday dinner, attended by friends and family.

Divorce is the end of one life and the beginning of another.

And unlike most life transitions, divorce does not come with a socially-constructed instruction manual that suggests pre-approved rituals. So we have to construct our own way to mark the occasion, both remembering and honoring what was and making space for what will come.

5 Things You Don’t Understand About Divorce Until You’ve Lived Through It

I thought I knew about divorce. When I was in elementary school, I weathered my own parents’ divorce, observing their reactions from the sidelines. I felt the loss, the change in family structure. I experienced the strange vacancies of a split – the blank spots on the walls where my dad’s pictures once hung and the empty seat in the family camping van.

I thought I knew about divorce. I read my mom’s seemingly endless supply of self-help books, important resources for her career as a marriage and family therapist. I digested countless case studies and thumbed through endless nuggets of wisdom and advice for an enduring marriage.

I thought I knew about divorce. So I chose a husband that showed me copious amounts of affection and seemed at ease communicating about emotional matters. After we weathered various storms, I was convinced that divorce was something that could never happen to us. Until it did.

I thought I knew about divorce. Until it happened to me. And I realized how little I knew. Because there are some things you only learn about divorce once you’ve lived through it.

1. Divorce Leaves No Stone Unturned

Before living it, I had always viewed divorce as analogous to a friend moving away – there’s the initial loss, the lingering loneliness and the need to fill the newly-formed void. What I neglected to understand is the sheer vastness of the impact of divorce.

It touches everything.

It’s the friend moving away, the home being destroyed by a rogue forest fire and the loss of health and sanity. A stranger jettisoned in a strange land, unable to speak the language. All while you’re losing your closest confidant and doubting your own decisions. And that’s not even addressing the shame of failure and the judgment of others.

Your family is fractured, perhaps alliances formed and relationships severed. Children are unsure and needy or defiant and acting out. Divorce changes your body as the signs of stress show on your face and your appetite is affected by the strain. Your routines alter as they reform around the missing person and even something as innocuous as an evening Netflix show takes on a greater meaning. Your job is impacted as your mind wanders and you have to spend your lunch break emailing your attorney. Your home, if you’re still in it, is at once sanctuary and mausoleum.

Divorce is far more than simply a change in family structure. It’s a reorganization of your entire life. Your entire self. It’s a massive transformation. A time when everything is called into question and nothing is certain.

It’s also an opportunity. A crack in the bedrock allowing a change in course, an alteration of spirit. You can stay at rock bottom. Or you can choose to build.

2. Your Emotions Will Be in Conflict

Your spouse cheats, you’re angry. They leave, you’re sad. They move on with somebody else, you’re jealous. It all seemed so straightforward until I experienced it myself.

When I received the text that ended my first marriage, my first response was disbelief. Then shock. Then concern for him. Followed by blind rage. Then pragmatism took hold. Until the uncontrollable sobbing started.

And that was only the first ten minutes.

The reality of the emotional onslaught is much messier and much less predicable than anyone can imagine. Overwhelming loss enters the ring against an unspoken sense of relief. Blinding rage battles with compassion and a memory of love once shared. Moments of sheer joy rise unexpectedly like the opening of a shaken soda only to be trailed by a sudden jolt of reality.

The reality is that there is no one way you’re supposed to feel. All of these strong and conflicting emotions are normal when enduring divorce. And they’re all valid. It’s possible to hate someone and still miss them. We’re capable of feeling anger and empathy. It’s okay to have moments of bliss even while the tears are still drying on your face.

3. You Cannot Prepare For or Control Everything

If you had asked me prior to my divorce how one should approach the process, I would have been full of pragmatic (and naïve) advice. It seemed pretty clear cut – talk things out with your ex and make decisions that are fair to both, limit the legal counsel sought and seek to be friendly throughout the entire ordeal.

Which is not how things happened.

Throughout the entire divorce process, I felt like a tennis shoe thrown into the washing machine, being tossed about at will and completely submerged in the process. I was accustomed to being in control of my life and my surroundings and the divorce was a rude awakening to how little influence I really had.

You can try to anticipate how you, your ex or your children will respond. You can make plans for how you think the process will proceed. You can spend months researching your options and making informed decisions.

But at the end of the day, you have no control over the outcome and limited skills in predicting the future. And that can be a difficult – yet freeing – truth to accept.

4. Some Days You Will Feel Like a Failure

Even though my rational brain does not interpret divorce as a failure, my emotional self still experiences shame around the end of my own marriage. I find that I am quick to offer the extenuating circumstances that made divorce the only logical solution and absolve me of the bulk of the responsibility.

When I hear people claim that “divorce is not an option,” I feel both angry and foolish that I allowed myself to be put into a situation where it became the only option. Even though it became the best thing that ever happened to me.

No matter your circumstances and your larger feelings surrounding your divorce, there will be days where you feel like a failure, like you’ve been branded as someone who gives up too easily or perhaps doesn’t know how to compromise. Sometimes these feelings spontaneously arise from within and sometimes they’re compounded by external judgment.

Instead of allowing the guilt and shame to tell you you’re a failure, funnel them into learning how you can do better going forward. You’re not a failure for getting divorce; you’re only defeated if you allow it to get the better of you.

5. It Will Be All-Consuming….Until It Isn’t

I kind of feel like I need to send an apology note to everyone I came in contact with during my divorce –

“I’m sorry that I told you way too much of my personal business and probably made you uncomfortable in the process.”

But at the same time, I’m not sorry. It was a brief period where all sense of political correctness and social niceties were shed and real, although brief, connections were formed over my shared intimacies.

For months, my divorce – and my ex’s shenanigans – were my defining characteristics. It was the first thing friends enquired about and the first thing on my mind when I awoke. Everything reminded me of him or what I had lost in the process.

And then a day came where I didn’t think about the divorce, my ex or my losses. And then another day followed shortly after. Instead of being the most important feature in my life, it became simply part of my backstory.

When you’re in the midst of it, divorce feels never ending. Yet eventually, it omnipresence wears thin as it overstays its welcome. New experiences and new people begin to layer new memories atop the old and the pain fades into the distance. Divorce will always be a part of your story, but it will no longer be your defining feature.

Marital Climate vs. Marital Weather

It’s been an odd winter in the Southeast this year. We’ve had record rainfall and relatively moderate temperatures. The near-constant flooding has meant that most of the trails (many of which run alongside streams in low-lying areas) have been inaccessible and even damaged from the fast flowing water.

Without perspective, you might easily assume that Atlanta is always partially aquatic and rarely blessed with sun. But of course, that’s far from true. The error comes when weather, which is temporary and always-changing, is confused with the general patterns and tendencies of climate.

And we often make that same error in judgment when it comes to our relationships.

It’s an easy mistake to make, getting lost in the trees and failing to see the forest. We get so caught up in each moment and allow our emotional responses to situations, both good and bad, to accentuate certain traits while dismissing others.

We can confuse a distressing moment with an unhappy union. Decide that a misspoken comment is a sign of complete decimation. Or, conversely, we can ignore a pattern of poor behavior in exchange for the periodic and passing warmth of a kind word or loving embrace.

Every marriage has storms where the battering winds cause the very foundation to tremble. All marriages have periods of drought, leaving both parties feeling desiccated and shriveled. It’s the rare union that doesn’t experience the occasional chill, the blocks of ice preventing true connection. And most marriages have those perfect sunny days when the warmth permeates your very soul and you feel relaxed and secure.

And just like with the weather outside our windows, it’s easy to form judgments about the relationships within our walls based on what’s happening at a specific time. We stay with people that are bad for us because they can make us feel good in the moment. Or we begin to tell ourselves that our marriage is troubled after a rare deluge. And then, all too easily, that story can become taken as fact.

So before you have yourself convinced that your tundra-like union is happy because the temperatures occasionally rise above freezing or that your totally normal midwestern marriage is in shambles because of a rare flood, look at the bigger picture. Marital climate is defined by the trends, not by the moments within. And sometimes you just have to wait out the rain, trusting that the usual sun will shine again.

The Unfairness of Being Cheated On