Nobody needs to tell you about the pain of being cheated on. You’re living that every moment.
Instead, I want you to know about the silver linings that can be found amidst the ruins of the betrayal.
Five Surprising Upsides to Being Cheated On
Six Reasons Smart People Are Dumb in Love
I’ve always considered myself a smart person. And so, when I was confronted with the harsh reality of how stupid I was in my first marriage, it was a tough reality to accept.
How could I be SO dumb when it comes to love?
1 – Smart People Are Still Subject to the Addictive Nature of Love
No matter how smart you are, you are still impacted by your biology. And our biology has evolved to encourage us to form strong social bonds and to procreate. Oxytocin and serotonin help to create the feeling of love and encourage us to stay close.
But those aren’t the dangerous one.
That moniker goes to dopamine, the neurotransmitter that gives us a little jolt of pleasure whenever it is stimulated. And the best way to stimulate is through intermittent rewards.
Dopamine is present in high amounts at the beginning of a relationship when you cannot stop thinking about the other person. It’s the first, heady rush of the drug in your system. And it can easily become the dragon you keep chasing.
Manipulative people are masters at controlling the dopamine response in their partners. These are the abusers that follow their assault with copious amounts of affection and attention. Or, the ones who ignore your bids for attention and then randomly provide you with the love hit that you crave. They control you as surely as researchers doling out treats to the rats in the cage.
Much like any addict, when you’re under the influence of love, you can do some irrational and dumb things while seeking out the next high. And like any addict, it’s difficult to see the addiction while you’re still under its spell.
2 – Smart People Set Goals for Themselves and Are Used to Achieving Them
Smart people are used to dictating their lives. When they set goals of getting married by a certain age, they fully intend for that to happen. The problem arises when the goal of marriage becomes the sole focal point and the nature of the specific relationship is viewed as secondary.
In school, there is a direct correlation between the hours of study and score on the exam. At work, more effort leads to better results. When it comes to fitness, more hours at the gym results in a more favorable outcome. Yet in love, the corollary between energy and results is much more nebulous because no matter how much we try, we cannot control the behaviors of others.
You can set all the goals you want for your relationship. But if your partner does not share those goals or refuses to put forth the effort to reach them, those goals become moot. This is a difficult truth for smart people, especially when they see the potential within their partner. The question then becomes, are you in love with the person or with their potential?
3 – Smart People Have High Expectations of Themselves and Assume the Same of Others
Smart people are experts at reflection and course correction. They have high expectations of themselves and are often on a lifelong journey of self-improvement. They naturally assume that everyone else is capable of self-reflection and can articulate what they want. Unfortunately, this is not always the case.
There are people who go through life taking advantage of those who see the best in others. People who do not hesitate to operate behind the veil of optimism and good graces. It’s almost impossible for those victimized by this behavior to understand it because it is so far removed from their very nature.
4 – Smart People Adapt to Their Environments
When you put sane people into an insane environment for any length of time, they will begin to adapt in order to survive. The analogy of slowly turning up the heat in order to boil the frog is apt here; even as the situation becomes dire, there is a constant recalibration of “normal.”
Smart people are good as assessing a situation and responding in a way that is advantageous for survival. Often, this is a desirable response. But when the response means that you have to continually bite your tongue or hide your true nature, the reactions have become maladaptive.
When the situation is toxic, it may be better to escape rather than to continually acclimate. After all, even if the water no longer feels hot, it can still scald.
5 – Smart People Often Trust Their Brains More Than Their Guts
When you’re smart, you learn to trust in your perceptions and your conclusions. You become adept at analyzing a situation and assembling evidence to support your case. This trait, useful in most areas, can be dangerous when it comes to love.
First of all, we want to believe that we made a sound decision when we selected our partner. So we’re reticent to admit to any signs that perhaps we made a mistake. Additionally, we fear losing love and ending up alone. So we create complicated narratives that excuse red flags in order to avoid facing that painful experience.
Smart people often dismiss their gut feelings, viewing intuition as a lesser skill than reasoning and believing only in things that can be proven through factual evidence.
Even when we can’t prove them, our gut feelings are important. They often operate like the sensors placed to recognize even the slightest increase in seismic activity. The disturbances are so slight that they operate below the level of conscious awareness, yet the gut can still tell that “something” is off.
6 – Smart People Fall Into the “Sunk Cost Fallacy” Because They Don’t Like to Quit
Once you have invested years into a relationship, it’s easy to use the time spent as justification for spending more time and energy. Sometimes, this inclination is advantageous. But if the demise of the relationship is inevitable, it’s simply throwing good money after bad in a desperate attempt to keep from admitting defeat.
Smart people have learned that success comes from effort and perseverance. They may struggle to understand the distinction between quitting (born from fear or frustration) and letting go (which arises from courage and acceptance). As a result, they will often do – and try – anything to keep from giving up. Even if it means giving up on themselves.
There is a silver lining to all of this…
Smart people learn from their mistakes. They understand how to break down a situation and reflect upon its merits and detriments. Smart people don’t shy away from responsibility or hard work. They see the correlation between effort and outcome and know that anything worthwhile isn’t easy to obtain.
Smart people can learn how to become smart in love.
Do You Suspect Your Partner is Cheating?
Do you suspect your partner is cheating?
I laughed it off at the time.
My then-husband had recently become enamored with a particular style of Calvin Klein boxer briefs after years of mainly going commando. Since I was off school for spring break, I took on the task of tracking down several pairs for him so that he had enough to last a full week on the road.
I had read that a sudden change in preference of undergarments was a potential sign of an affair, but the thought that this man who was always so attentive and complimentary was seeing somebody else was laughable. I dismissed the idea as rapidly as it came to me.
And then, months later, the truth hit with a surprise uppercut.
The husband-of-the-year had disappeared into the arms of another. And he took his new boxer briefs with him.
Until I saw the evidence of the infidelity, his potential cheating was like Schrodinger’s Cat – until the box was opened, he was both faithful and unfaithful. I could both drive myself crazy by assuming that he was cheating or I could find false comfort in the conclusion that he was faithful.
And neither position of mine would have altered the facts surrounding his infidelity.
One of the most challenging truths about trust and fidelity in a relationship is that you have limited influence on the actions of your partner.
You can choose wisely, be a loving and present spouse and be alert to possible signs of cheating. And then you have to find acceptance in that in between space, where infidelity is simultaneously a possibility and out of the question.
After being cheated on in my first marriage, I was concerned about finding the balance between awareness of potential issues in my new relationship and also trust in my partner. My concern was that I would err too far on the side of suspicion, looking so hard for signs of cheating that, even if my partner was faithful, I would be living as though I was being betrayed.
I heard recently about a woman who knows her husband is cheating on her. Instead of making a decision about the future of the marriage, she is instead constantly monitoring his location. I can understand this reaction. By keeping tabs on his whereabouts, she is maintaining a sense of control in a situation where she is quite powerless. She can’t keep him from seeing his girlfriend, but at least she knows when he’s at the girlfriend’s house.
I understand this reaction, but the thought of living in that space makes me shudder. It must be horrible to know the details of the infidelity but be unable to alter its course. This false control becomes a distraction from the true source of power she does have – the decision if she is going to continue to tolerate this dynamic.
Other people are prone to snooping with the excuse that knowledge is power, assuming that if they just know enough about their partner’s life and interactions, they can stop potential infidelity before it starts.
It is a nice thought, that information is sufficient to shape the behavior of others. But, like with the illusion of control that comes from relationship insecurity, it’s a false comfort.
You will never know everything about your spouse’s life or history. You can spend all day together and they could be engaging in a secret online romance or you could have a long distance relationship where everything is aboveboard. Insisting on knowing everything is off-putting and creates an environment where your spouse is tempted to hide in order to avoid the constant questioning or to claim a reasonable amount of privacy. On the other hand, a total disinterest in information gives a sign of disinterest and even implied permission to act poorly.
There are times that I miss the sense of security I had in my first marriage, a certainty that he would be by my side no matter what.
And then I remember how that ended up.
I traded security born from willful ignorance for an acceptance about life’s impermanence and an appreciation for today.
An exchange I feel good about.
A few years ago, my now-husband found a type of underwear he loved. I looked from grading one evening to see him opening up a package from Amazon with multiple pairs. After admiring the view as he modeled a pair for me, I paused for a moment, remembering the similar scenario several years prior with my first husband.
Even though the immediate facts were homologous, the circumstances were completely different. Perhaps most importantly, I was no longer afraid to consider and confront the idea of infidelity in my husband (if I thought that it was a possibility). If I had been honest with myself ten years ago, I probably would have identified other facts that might have indicated that something was going on. When I considered this possibility with my second husband, I landed on a complete lack of evidence of infidelity. Furthermore, I had become quite uneasy towards the end of my first marriage, a current of anxiety of unknown origin coursed through me constantly. Whereas in my second marriage, I have never had that same vague sense of dread.
If certain signs have made you suspicious about your partner’s behavior, you have some decisions to make.
First, what do you want to do with this information? You can pretend you didn’t see it (not advisable, see my story for reasons), you can gather more data or you can confront your partner with your concerns. Here’s the hard part – once your brain has considered this possibility, there is likely little that your partner can say to completely alleviate your fears. That doesn’t mean that they are cheating; it means that trust has to operate on both faith and facts.
If you learn that your concerns are valid, are you prepared to set some boundaries? Maybe you are willing to try to work through this if your partner is on board or perhaps this is a deal-breaker for you. If they deny the affair (and you have proof) or they refuse to end the infidelity, what decision will you make?
I caution against remaining overly suspicious for the long term. It won’t lessen the chances of an affair (in fact, if anything, it can encourage it, “If you’re going to accuse me of it, I might as well do it.”) and it will only serve to make you miserable. If your concerns appear to be unfounded, consider the possibility that they have more to do with your own insecurities than your partner’s actions.
Transfer your energy from your partner’s activities to your own thoughts.
If infidelity is Schrodinger’s Cat, I refused to open that box in my first marriage, stubbornly believing that as long as I didn’t look, my marriage was still alive. Now, I take the occasional peek in the box to ensure that all is well, but for the most part, I operate from a place of trust. Because living a life of suspicion means that I am allowing myself to be a perpetual victim of infidelity. And that’s not the life I want to live.
Walking the Narrow Line Between Seeking to Understand and Making Excuses
The Netflix series Mindhunters takes a fascinating look at the early days of the FBI’s research into profiling serial killers. At that time, the overall viewpoint of the bureau was to expend all of their resources on catching these killers after they had committed their crimes. Once they were apprehended and restrained, they were to be ignored, dismissed as aberrations.
Yet the investigators at the heart of this series had a different perspective. Instead of waiting until multiple murders had been committed, they wondered if, by interviewing convicted serial killers and analyzing data, they could instead gain some insight into the conditions that lead people to become monsters.
The powers-that-be were horrified. Why would any attention be paid towards these men? Why would any empathy (even feigned in attempt to gain trust) be extended?
Yet, often behind the brass’s backs, in dark and desolate barred rooms, these men-turned-monsters revealed their stories to the investigators. Watching these scenes unfold, I was filled with alternating revulsion as they described their crimes (and the motivations behind their actions) and compassion as their own abuse and trauma was revealed.
What they did was horrific. And in most cases, what they had endured was horrific. The latter certainly doesn’t excuse the former. Yet it does help to provide some understanding, some context, of how those men could do those things. And that understanding can help to both provide some healing for those impacted and also recognize and sometimes intervene when someone seems to be following a similar pathway.
We all have a tendency to ascribe our failures to external (and often malleable) causes and assign other’s shortcomings to their own internal character flaws. In fact, this propensity is so common, it has even been assigned a name: the fundamental attribution error. In normal life, this can be seen by a student justifying their failing grade by blaming the pencil that kept breaking or because they believe the teacher has it out for them. While at the same time, they may attribute their friend’s poor grade to their lack of preparation and inherent laziness.
(Interestingly, this trends the opposite way with positive outcomes – while you chalk your promotion up to your abilities and performance, your coworker’s promotion may be described as “lucky.”)
Of course, the reality is somewhere in between. We are all a product of our internal selves and our external environment. We are both nature and nurture. Our own actions are born both from within our character and from what we face in the world beyond. And the same is true for those around us, even those that behave in incomprehensible and reprehensible ways.
In our long weeks of convalescence at our home, we have been devouring the Marvel universe shows on Netflix (Daredevil and the like). I’m not always a fan of comic-based entertainment; much of it feels too simplistic and filled with one-dimensional characters. Yet these series are different. The heroes have their demons and the villains have their virtues. No one is all-good or all-bad, just variations on shading between.
And the longer I’ve lived and the more honest I’ve been with myself, I think that’s generally the way things are. And I believe that we can make ourselves better by accepting the responsibility for our own choices and we can make the world better by striving to understand why others make the decisions they do. Not in an effort to excuse them from the consequences, but in an attempt to see the connections and possibly be able to recognize trouble before it becomes destruction.
And this is where I am now when it comes to those that have affairs.
It certainly hasn’t always been this way. When I first learned of my ex’s betrayals, I was livid. Enraged. I blamed him for putting me in that mess and all of my energy was directed towards that end. His pitiful excuses made for his behavior (I can just hear his voice whining to the police, “But I just wanted to be happy.”) only served to feed my ire. After all, he had acted without concern for me. Why should I have any concern for him?
This anger filled me for years. By extension, it carried over to anyone that admitted to ever stepping out on their relationships. Just as foretold by the fundamental attribution error, I ascribed all of their actions to the cold calculations of a malignant soul.
All that anger never altered what he had done. All that condemnation never altered the actions of any cheaters I encountered. All that blame never made me feel any better.
And then, ever so slowly, as my personal pain began to fade, I began to listen.
Not only to those who had experienced betrayal. But also to those who had perpetrated it upon their partners.
I found that some of my anger had been replaced by curiosity – Why are some people compelled to cheat? How do they rationalize the pain that this causes their partners? Are they running towards attention or running away from pain? How do they view their marriages, their spouses? Do they feel guilt or regret? Would they make the same choices again? (If you haven’t read or listened to Esther Perel, she has amazing insights into infidelity. Highly recommend!)
And often their explanations rang flat, mere excuses for selfish behavior. Yet, I also uncovered important information about the pressures we put on marriage, the isolation of mental illness, the anxiety around conflict and the fear of being alone.
And it is only by listening that we can begin to gain some understanding.
Not to excuse. (No matter the reasons, cheating is both a selfish act and a coward’s way out.)
But to gain perspective and insight. (Even in those cases when we can never grasp the why or the how behind the actions.)
So that hopefully we can recognize it before it’s too late and maybe even stop it from occurring in the first place.
Four Surprising Emotions You May Experience When You’ve Been Cheated On
Shock?
Check.
Anger?
In droves.
Sadness?
The tears were surely a testament to that.
Fear of what was to come?
In every moment.
Those were some of the emotions that I experienced when I discovered that my first husband had been having an affair. None of those feelings surprised me; they were the emotions I would have expected to follow the gut-wrenching discovery of betrayal.
But they weren’t the only feelings that I experienced. And the others caught me off-guard. Here are four unexpected emotions that you may experience after the discovery of infidelity.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 