When Would You Want to Know?

Brock and I have been talking a lot about marriage lately – our own, others and just marriages in general. Last night, on the drive home from the last holiday party of the season, he asked, “If your ex had come to you and admitted he screwed up, would you have wanted to stay and work on the marriage?”

“It depends,” was my initial response. “If he came to me towards the end, after years of lies and betrayal, it would have been too late.”

“Yeah,” Brock uttered in agreement.

“But if he had come to me early on, before it went on too long, then I would have tried to make it work.”

“Makes sense. I know I would do anything I could to save our marriage if there was a problem.”

And I believe he would; he’s not the type to try to hide from a problem.

But then the conversation took a different turn, discussing what happens when a spouse screws up once. We both agreed that in that case, we would not want to know as long as the offending party accepted responsibility, addressed the underlying issues that led to the infidelity and ensured it never happened again.

In other words, if the spouse made a mistake in judgment rather than possessed an error in character, we wouldn’t want to know about the situation as long as it could be remedied and a repeat avoided.

I feel weird even writing those words. After all, the secrecy and lies are what ultimately tore apart my first marriage. And the thought of my spouse withholding such sensitive information causes me some distress.

But knowing it wouldn’t be any better.

These mind exercises are challenging for me. I’m one of those people absolutely built for monogamy. Hell, I even turned my cheek the first time Brock tried to kiss me because there was another man in the picture. When I am in a relationship, I develop a sort of tunnel vision where I don’t even recognize other men as potential partners and, if I ever feel an attraction to somebody, I make sure that I am never in a situation that could lead to making a bad decision.

So I struggle to even imagine how someone who has overall good character can make a mistake that leads to infidelity. But I know it happens. Even good people can make bad decisions.

It’s what you do after that defines you.

It was a strange conversation to have with my husband, essentially laying out a roadmap of what to do in case of infidelity:

1) Set yourself up to be successful; avoid potentially dangerous situations.

2) If you screw up, take responsibility and fix it (STD testing, counseling, etc.).

3) Don’t reveal to simply alleviate guilt. And never, ever shift the blame to your partner.

4) If you need help, get it.

It felt odd to talk openly about these worst-case situations, especially because in my first marriage, any talk of infidelity was simply, “Don’t do it.” (And we see how well that turned out!) But we’re all human and humans can make mistakes.

It’s what you do after that matters.

That doesn’t change the fact that I desperately hope this remains nothing but a thought exercise!

How about you? Are there situations where you would rather not know?

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Taking a Test Drive and the Allure of New Beginnings

I test drove a new car today.

It was shiny and unblemished next to my worn and pockmarked almost-sixteen-year-old car. Its pristine surfaces spoke not of its past but whispered of its future.

This was a car that has never disappointed me. Never failed to start or stuttered to a stop. No red flags have ever lit its dash. Whereas my car is sullied by my memories of its betrayals, this car has not earned a reputation of any kind.

And not only had this car not disappointed me, I had not done any damage to it, unlike my car with its scraped rear end from a misguided back-up attempt and its interior covered with mud and dog hair. You see, I have long since stopped putting any energy into my car. And it shows.

But this new car is different.

It suggests a fresh start. A clean slate.

It has the allure of promise and the taste of potential.

It’s enough to make me recoil from my old car, the mostly-faithful machine that has carried me through my entire adult life. I know her; I can drive her without a thought, every button and pedal activated by years of muscle memory. But as the years have advanced, I’ve grown tired of her. I’ve let her go and then poked fun at her grubby appearance. I’ve started to focus on when she lets me down rather than the 130,000 miles she has carried me without complaint. I grow frustrated at her nonfunctional trunk and laugh at the antennae that looks to be in need of a hearty dose of Viagra.

And, of course, the new car only seems so great because we have only shown each other our best sides. It has not yet revealed its little annoyances and shortcomings and I have not presented it with sweaty limbs after a run or a muddy dog after a hike. Everything is great when it is only possibility.

Because even though I test drove a new car today, I was really test driving a new life.

I liked the image of myself behind the wheel in the shiny, new vehicle. You see, I’ve grown embarrassed to be seen with the old and unkempt one. The new car felt like a better reflection of me. I enjoyed the fact that this car had no memories, no past. No baggage. It was as though I could start fresh just by buying a new vehicle. I made the promise to keep up with new one, to attend to dirt and grime along with the recommended oil changes and tire rotations.

New is intoxicating.

And not just for cars.

Our relationships can take on a sense of dissatisfaction just as easily as an old car. Any relationship that has traveled the miles will carry the marks of past fights or disappointments. An established relationship reminds you of your shortcomings and your mistakes. If you fail to take care of your marriage, it will show its age just as with any vehicle.

The hint of a new relationship is just as alluring as the pull of a new car. It’s why people so often leave established relationships for someone they just met. The routine spouse cannot compete against the shiny new showroom model that is full of promise and potential. A new partner does not yet know anything we choose not to reveal; we can pretend to be the airbrushed versions of ourselves. The everyday is replaced with the excitement of the unfamiliar.

It’s hard to compete against beginnings.

They hold a special power. They allow us to dream and explore, often through a land of make-believe.

Because the thing about beginnings is that they cannot last. Just as that new car loses value as its driven off the lot, a new affair loses its luster as soon as the blinding dust of lust has dispersed and reality intrudes into fantasy. The strength of the appeal of the new is found in its novelty. And nothing stays novel for long.

I test drove a new car today. But then I returned home to my old (usually) faithful with the commitment of having her oil changed this weekend followed by a good cleaning. Because sometimes the best thing you can do is ignore the lure of the new and take care of what you have.

At least until she leaves me stranded again. At which point, I’ll set her up with my mechanic and run off with a new model. I can only take so much:)

 

Sacrifice

There’s a simple reason most diets ultimately fail.

 

Mindset at the outset.

 

Most diets possess at their core a sense of giving up something that you want. Relinquishing that which you desire.

A sacrifice.

But we don’t view sacrifice as simply releasing something from our lives.

We see it as a trade. A bargaining tool. A giving up of one thing with the promise of gaining (or, in the case of dieting, losing) something else.

The rational mind realizes that the short-term denial of dessert will lead to the longer-term goal of a smaller waistline.

But the rational mind isn’t always at the reins.

And the more emotional brain steps up to the podium to present its case:

I went to the gym today. I deserve a cookie.

I ate well at breakfast and lunch; dinner out won’t kill me.

And those statements are literally true. A single cookie won’t derail a diet. Indulging at a single meal won’t make much difference. But it rarely stops there.

The problem comes from our deeper psychology. Because when we feel deprived, panicked that we may lose something, we quickly go from scarcity to splurge.

So, before any diet books are purchased or points tallied, the successful “dieter” begins with the mindset. Shifts the thinking from a perspective of paucity to one of abundance, focusing on what is to be gained rather than the feared losses. When approached from this angle, it’s amazing that what once were viewed as sacrifices, simply become matter-of-fact. The martyr mindset is replaced with an appreciative one.

This sacrificial mindset doesn’t only derail diets.

It also derails relationships.

When someone approaches a deepening relationship or marriage focusing on what is being given up, it creates a sense of loss and lays the groundwork for future binges.

Yes, relationships require change.

But healthy ones demand compromise.

Not sacrifice.

You’re not giving up.

You’re growing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why People Cheat

I never thought I’d tackle this post. First of all, if I could answer this question with certainty, I certainly would not be teaching middle school math; I’d be taking over Oprah’s spot. The reasons people stray in their marriages are as varied and complex as marriage itself. Past, present and personality weaving together to create a perfect storm. To add to the complexity, the reasons people cheat are rarely the reasons they say they cheat. You are much more likely to hear excuses or blame because the truth takes bravery and insight along with a willingness to then divulge the understanding that was reached.

 

So, without further ado, here are the patterns I have seen emerge. We’ll start with the simplest.

The Bad Decision

This is the “it just happened” infidelity, although that excuse makes my skin crawl. This is the affair born of bad decisions that may or may not have other co-existing causes. There is no magic in a wedding band that suddenly causes all others of the opposite sex to be invisible. We all meet people that we find attractive and that awaken that little spark. But you always have a choice. Long before anything happens, you can make the decision to walk away. The earlier the better. The closer you get to flame, the more  difficult it becomes to leave. You may get to a point where your body has the best of you, but you can choose to use your brain before then.

The Need for Physical Connection

A marriage where the partners have different sexual needs is certainly a struggle. In this type of affair, one (or both) of the partners are craving more physical intimacy and they look outside the marriage to sate their appetites. My frustration with this type (and the affair described below), is that so often the straying partner is helping to create the desert at home by turning his or attentions away. This reason is also used as an excuse for infidelity and can even be created by the straying partner as a way for them to reconcile their decisions within their own mind. After all, it’s easy to claim a sexless marriage and difficult to refute unless you never close your blinds.

The Need for Emotional Connection

Two has the potential to be lonelier than one can ever be. There is no worse feeling that being with someone and yet feeling invisible. People can change and grow apart. In this type of affair, the straying partner is seeking responsiveness and demonstrative affection from another. They describe their marriage as “dead” and want to feel alive. I get it, but there are other options than an affair. Please, seek them out first.

The Need for Approval

This is often the affair of the narcissist. They are typically brief and in succession, a new partner replacing the former before he or she gets to know too much. This straying partner is driven by the need to be idolized, which is a trademark of early romance that fades as time reveals more about the person.

The Need for Stimulation

Affairs can be rewarding; there is a rush from the newness that is amplified by the necessary intrigue. Some people are wired to need more stimulation. These are your daredevils and stockbrokers. Others train themselves to need an increasing amount of stimulation, such as in the case of addiction. Their threshold for stimulation is set higher than a “normal” life can fulfill and so they are always seeking their next reward. I believe this is why there is a connection between Twitter use and affairs.

The Snipe Hunt for Happiness

I find this the saddest reason for infidelity. In this case, a person is truly unhappy and, rather than address the issue internally where it resides, they begin a snipe hunt for happiness, looking for it in external things and often, people. This affair is not driven by something missing in the marriage; it’s powered by something missing in the person. And, what makes it sad to me is that while they are on a winless quest for happiness, they steal joy from others along the way.

 

Many affairs can be described by more than one of the reasons above. After all, we’re all human with our complexities and fallibilities. Affairs happen. But maybe if we can understand more of why they do we can stop them before they start or learn from them once they do.

 

And, for those of you who have been betrayed, here is some more information for you:

Classification of Infidelity – A look at he types of infidelity from the perspective of the betrayed.

Will I Ever Trust Again? – A perspective on how to learn to trust again after betrayal.

Of Horses and Zebras – A description of how betrayal changes your brain.

The Upside of Betrayal – Betrayal isn’t all bad. There are some positives. I promise.