Can People Cheat on Someone They Love?

It’s quite the mental conundrum – they claim to love you and yet they have been the source of your greatest pain. Does this mean that the love was a lie? Were they merely stringing you along in order to get what they wanted? Or, did they somehow manage to both love you and betray you?

There is no argument that choosing to cheat is both cruel and cowardly, a selfish act that leaves deep and lasting wounds in the ones betrayed. It is never the right choice and once made, it can never be undone.

Yet, one question remains. Can somebody cheat on the one they love? Or, does the act of cheating indicate that love was never present in the relationship?

 

Are love and infidelity mutually exclusive?

 

I don’t believe they are. While cheating highlights many flaws in someone’s character or coping mechanisms, I don’t think that it necessarily indicates that a person is incapable of love.

It’s difficult to accept this when we’re the ones betrayed. After all, the discovery of betrayal is the furthest from an act of loving kindness that we can imagine. Taking it a step further, proclaiming to love someone and continuing to hurt them (even behind their backs), is emotional abuse. So it’s no surprise that many of use reach the conclusion that the entirety of the relationship was a lie.

Yet life – and those of us trying to make through it the best that we can – rarely exist in those absolutes. And sometimes people act in opposition to their feelings for a variety of reasons –

 

Maladaptive Means of Protection

I think in his own twisted way, my husband was trying to protect me. He was depressed. Defeated. Scared and addicted. And I don’t think he wanted to burden me with his mental demons. So he pulled back, pulled the wool over my my eyes as he began to live two lives – one where he had to hide and another where he could play-act at being the man he wanted to be.

Others may be coming to terms with desires that they fear their partners will not accept, and so shame encourages them to stay silent as they believe that the truth would cause distress. “What they don’t know, won’t hurt them,” the cheating spouse says to themselves to excuse their behavior.

This motivator becomes a slippery slope as one lie inevitably leads to another because as the betrayals grow, so does the hurt that would come from its discovery. There is ego in this approach as one person becomes the defacto gatekeeper for the marriage, controlling what truths are revealed. It’s a situation where the perpetrator convinces themselves that they’re acting for the good of their partner, while at the same time, removing agency from their spouse.

 

Cognitive Dissonance

This powerful mental dance of self-preservation is responsible for many poor behaviors in people. On the front end of an affair, cognitive dissonance allows people to make decisions that put themselves in situations that can easily go too far. “I am a good person and so I would never cheat on my spouse,” the soon-to-be-cheater tells themselves as they begin to hide text messages from their partner.

And then as the choices begin to move into more blatant cheating, cognitive dissonance creates a blackout around the source of distress. They try not to think about what they are doing, acting more on instinct and self-preservation than deliberate planning. They simply cannot see what they are doing and hold onto their own self-image at the same time. So they keep their eyes closed.

These are the cheaters that may even act confused when they’re eventually caught. “How did I get here?” they wonder. Cognitive dissonance can also result in the cheater directing the blame outward, pointing fingers at the affair partner that seduced them or the unsuspecting spouse who wasn’t fulfilling their needs in some way.

 

Compartmentalization

These cheaters convince themselves that this thing has nothing to do with that. They see cheating, as long it is kept hidden, as being entirely separate from the marriage and their spouse. In some marriages, this filing system is aboveboard and accepted. But when one person is electing to erect walls that inevitably impact another, it is a betrayal of trust and autonomy.

Sometimes compartmentalization is necessary and healthy. It’s what allows doctors to keep their cool in the emergency room and allows parents to set aside their own distress to tend to that of their children. Yet when compartmentalization occurs in an attempt to avoid discomfort or discovery, it is not an appropriate use of the strategy.

And when it comes to affairs, any belief that that the actions of the cheater have no impact on the marriage or the spouse as long as they are hidden is a complete fabrication. Because whatever you nurture, grows. So when one spouse’s attention is turned outside the marriage, the marriage will ultimately suffer.

 

Rationalization

“The attention I get from my affair partner makes me a better spouse.”

“My spouse doesn’t want sex anyways, so it doesn’t matter if I cheat.”

“I love my spouse, but they wouldn’t accept this side of me. I’m doing what’s best for them.”

All of these beliefs and more can be used to try to justify the cheating. As nonsensical as it seems from the outside, these mental gymnastics can make complete sense to the one choreographing the excuses.

The use of rationalizations indicate a person who is not very self-aware and who is also uncomfortable confronting any hard truths. They are deceiving themselves as well as you.

 

Low Self-Worth

Sometimes an affair is a sign that someone doesn’t love themselves, not that they don’t love you. When self-worth is low, they are going to seek validation and acceptance from wherever they can. Even if that means it’s coming from outside the marriage.

 

On the one hand, it feels good to believe that you were loved (even as you’re reeling from the pain). On the other hand, it’s difficult (if not impossible) to comprehend how somebody could cause so much pain to someone they loved. And so wondering if the love was real becomes simply one more thing in the long list of uncertainties that cheating forces you to accept.

And finally…

Even if they do love you, that is not a reason to tolerate bad behavior. And even if you still love them, that alone is not a reason to stay.

 

 

See the video that spurred the whole debate – Is it possible for somebody to cheat on someone they love?

 

I Needed Him to Face the Consequences, Yet I Was the One Who Paid

“I need for him to face the consequences of what he has done.”

I vocalized those words to my parents when we first discovered that my husband had committed marital embezzlement and felony bigamy. Those words were the driving force behind my decision to contact the police about his actions. I expressed those words through clenched teeth to the district attorney and the victim advocate while my body still trembled with the shock. I used those words as a mantra as I carefully gathered evidence and pieced together the story. And I relied on those words as I made decisions throughout the divorce process.

The need for him to pay, either by returning the money he had swindled from me or by serving jail time for his crime, was a driving force. As real and as persistent as a need for food. I was convinced that he needed consequences so that he could experience the pain he inflicted, so that I could find closure and, perhaps most of all, because it was only fair that he face the repercussions of his choices.

For a time, I thought it was going to work. The DA’s office discussed the possibility of jail time or at least a protracted probation. My attorney discussed restitution and requested the totals of monetary losses. I even felt some satisfaction when it seemed as though his career may be endangered due to his deceptions.

And then, it all collapsed. He was granted a diversion in the bigamy case. He made exactly two paltry payments out of the many ordered by the divorce decree. And as far as I knew, he even kept his job.

I was devastated. Directionless. I had spent most of my energy in the previous eight months devoted to making him pay only to be left vacant while he appeared to dance away free and clear. I was angry. I was defeated.

And I was also at a crossroads.

I could choose to continue to driven by the need to make him pay. I was well within my rights to alert the DA’s office that my now-ex husband had not met the terms of the diversion, which carried with it an automatic felony conviction. I could contact my divorce attorney and pursue contempt charges for neglecting to follow the terms of the decree.

Or, I could decide to walk away. To let go of the need to make him pay and instead invest in my own future.

I chose the second option. And it’s funny, even though I’m not aware of any consequences he has faced, I’ve found closure. I’ve found financial stability. I have found a happy new life. I have found peace.

And I didn’t need him to pay for any of it.

The, “I am going to make them pay” attitude comes with a high price during divorce. Here’s what it will cost you –

Legal Fees

When you’re approaching the legal process with a desire to make your ex pay, the paperwork and billable hours increase exponentially. Not only are you asking your attorney to do more (which they are more than happy to bill you for), you are also prompting your ex to go on the defensive (also upping the time and costs involved) or even to launch a counterattack.

In my own case, I had a choice between “fault” and “ no fault” divorce. I chose the first one because the latter verbiage made my stomach turn. That lack of a single word probably cost me 4 months and $15,000. In hindsight, I should have selected the faster and easier route, even if I later scratched out the word “no” on the final decree.

Heightened Negativity

A need for revenge is carried on the swells of ugly emotions. It feeds anger as you remain focused on the wrongs that were committed. It prompts episodes of “why me?” as you wail against the injustices. It even elicits feelings of envy as you feel like you’re the only one paying. As long as you’re focused on your ex, you’re keeping yourself mired in the muck around the divorce.

I was given a form by the DA’s office that asked me, the identified victim, to describe what I thought my husband’s legal consequences should be for the bigamy charge. Before writing on the page, I photocopied it so that I could pen a version in line with my revenge fantasies. It was in line with the dark humor that saw me through those months, but it also showed how much anger was still roiling inside me. And as long as I was driven to make him pay, that anger would be my companion.

False Sense of Control

Divorce brings with it so many changes and so much that it out of your control that it is natural to try to dictate whatever terms you can. And using the court system in an attempt to make your ex pay can bring with it a sense of power, especially if you have the financial means to support your strike. This is especially acute in cases of an affair where the betrayed is desperately looking for a handhold to stop the sickening sense of free fall. But the legal process isn’t in your hands. The judge can choose to ignore the mountains of evidence. And your ex can chose to not follow the orders.

I found another sort of control in my quest. The sheer obsessiveness that I approached the legal process was a distraction from the overwhelming pain and fear that I was experiencing. By focusing on the next document or the latest email from the attorney, I didn’t have to look too closely at myself. But as with the straw man of the legal process, this emotional control was simply a false diversion that only delayed my own progress.

Emotional Letdown

Pretend for a moment that your ex is made to pay in exactly the terms you hope for. What then? Do you hurt any less? Is the disruption to your life any smaller? Has your anger suddenly dissipated? Do you now have a deep sense that your ex truly understands what you went through? Probably not. It’s all too easy to place too much value on the consequences, assuming that everything will be okay once the pound of flesh has been extracted. And the realization that the payment, no matter how steep, isn’t enough can be quite an abrupt letdown.

I never experienced the emotional anticlimax that follows the dispensation of consequences. Instead, I faced the letdown of payments never made and debts never settled. It was as though all of my efforts for the previous eight months were simply torn up and thrown away like so much garbage. It felt like running a marathon only to be felled by a sprained ankle just shy of the finish line. It was over, but it wasn’t finished.

Until, that is, I decided that I was done. Done with paying for my attorney’s summer vacation with my need for revenge. Done with allowing the negative thoughts to set up residence in my head. Done with pretending that I could control external circumstances. And done with allowing his consequences to dictate my well-being.

I realized just how much making him pay was costing me. And I decided the price wasn’t worth it.

5 Critical Ways to Learn to Trust After a Devastating Betrayal

“Will I ever trust again?” I asked, turning towards my dad in the aftermath of the day the marriage died.

My voice trembled along with the rest of my body, a pleading tone hoping for a positive response.

His eyes teared, he pulled me in for a hug. “I don’t know but I sure hope so.”

It wasn’t the response I wanted, but it was honest. And honest was what I needed.

Over the next weeks and months, I asked that question of my mom, my family, my friends, my journal.

And every response was the same.

“I don’t know.”

How do you recover from betrayal by the person closest to you? How do you move forward without armor so thick that no one will ever make it through? How do you ever put faith in another person after doing so destroyed your world and you in the process?

How do you learn to trust again?

We often think of trust as a singular thing, an on/off switch that is either fully present or entirely lacking. But trust doesn’t operate that way, it is multidimensional and maintaining it is an ongoing and ever-present process.

We also generally speak of trust as something that exists solely outside ourselves. We deem certain people untrustworthy and label others dependable. We decide that someone has lost our trust because of their actions (or perceived actions) and that the rebuilding of trust is completely dependent upon them. Yet the reality is that trust exists in the space between two people and it depends upon both for sustenance.

It’s been several years since I first questioned if I could ever trust again. And now I know I can trust because for the most part, I do. It wasn’t (and sometimes still isn’t) an easy process, but it has been a worthwhile undertaking.

If you’re struggling with trust, I’ve identified five components for you to look for in the other person and to address in yourself:

Courage

In your partner… Deception and betrayal are often the cowards way of saying, “I’m not happy with myself.” Look for a partner that is willing to be direct rather than evasive, even when saying the things you may not want to hear.

This trait was one of the main characteristics I looked for (and found) in my second husband. I trust that he’ll speak the truth. That doesn’t mean I’ll always like it.

In yourself… Have the courage to face whatever you may see. Hiding your head in the sand only leaves you blind. Ask the hard questions. Have the difficult conversations. Be willing to walk away. Believe in your own strength and abilities.

This was a difficult road for me. I don’t like conflict and had confused my desire for something to be true with my belief that it was true. I still struggle sometimes, but I’m doing much better at facing the truth rather than turning away.

Awareness

In your partner… Seek out a partner who is empathetic and compassionate about what you have experienced. There’s a balance here. It’s not fair to hold them accountable for someone else’s misdeeds, yet they can be understanding that sometimes your aim will be off.

When we first started dating, my now-husband forwarded me an unsolicited email from his boss about some upcoming travel for work. That email paid dividends into my trust bank since I had discovered that much of my ex’s “work” travel was anything but.

In yourself… Be aware of when you’re responding to something from now and when you’re coming from a place of old hurt and fear. If you’re (over)reacting because of your past, own it and don’t try to place that responsibility on your new partner.

Whenever I’m feeling triggered about something, I try to take a step back before I react. Often, I figure out that the issue is that my brain jumped from point A to conclusion Z by following assumptions drawn from my past. At which point, I work on myself rather than blow up at my partner.

Skepticism

In your partner… Don’t assume that you’re partner is lying and also don’t assume that they are always honest. Err on the side of belief but also make sure that your trust isn’t blind. Authenticate their words through observation and corroboration.

In the early stages of our relationship, I sought verification for many of my now-husband’s words. I didn’t snoop (that behavior ALWAYS backfires!), but I was observant, looking for evidence that supported his claims.

In yourself… Don’t assume that just because you feel it, it has to be real. Our emotions can lie to us as well. Be skeptical about your conclusions and try to separate fact from reactions. Also, remember that if you look for what you expect to see, your brain is setting you up to find it. Keep your mind open and yet questioning.

I am still learning to differentiate between spilled milk and an oncoming milk truck. And I know that about myself. So when I reach a premature conclusion, I look for facts to back it up before I accept it as truth.

Faith

In your partner… Believe that there are honest people in the world. And until/unless you’re proved differently, have faith that you’re with one of them.

I used to grow frustrated that my now-husband couldn’t seem to grasp the enormity of my ex’s transgressions. But then, I found solace in that fact. He doesn’t get it because that kind of deception is simply not in is vocabulary. And I’m more than okay with that.

In yourself…Have confidence that you will be able to move through your past and have the security of trust again. Operate with the certainty that you’ll get there and the focus will help you find your way.

In the beginning, I was asking if I could trust again. A few months out, I changed that to a declaration, “I WILL trust again.” I didn’t know how or when, but I made trust a goal rather than a question.

Acceptance

In your partner… For those of us who struggle with trust, we can often confuse disappointment with deception. Your partner will make mistakes. They will disappoint you. That’s not a breach of trust, that’s a fact of life.

In his willingness to readily own up to his mistakes, my now-husband has helped me find acceptance with infallibility. None of us are perfect. Stuff happens. And that’s why trust is an ongoing process.

In yourself… Accept your part. Do you turn away from uncomfortable truths? Do you start off believing that everything is a lie and seek only to prove it? Do you place the onus for trust on another’s shoulders? Also, accept that you have been wounded and that it will take time and patience for you to heal.

As soon as I shifted my focus from what my ex did to what I needed to do, my healing really began. Even though I could continue to blame him for destroying my trust, learning how to find it again was up to me.

Trust is not expecting your partner to be perfect.

Trust is choosing a partner that faces instead of hides.

Trust is not never being hurt or disappointed.

Trust is looking beyond the result and seeing the intention.

Trust is not searching for ways that others are trying to deceive you.

Trust is listening to your gut and sifting out the truth.

Trust is not trying to control every action and every outcome.

Trust is operating within your locus of control and releasing the end result.

Trust starts with you. And it’s up to you.

What Infidelity Steals From You

Learning to Trust Again: How to Deal With the Triggers

triggers

“Will I ever learn to trust again?” I implored of my dad after receiving the surprise text that my husband had left the marriage and left the state. At that point, I was concerned about learning to trust somebody else after being the victim of horrendous gaslighting and betrayal.

It was only months later that I realized the true concern was not trusting others, rather I needed to know if it was possible to learn to trust myself and my own perceptions again. I kept questioning my responses to situations, wondering if I was listening to my intuition or overreacting because the circumstances triggered memories created by the earlier trauma.

Determined not be deceived again, I started paying more attention to my emotions and gut reactions to a situation. However, I was also aware that my emotions were not always rational and were prone to sending out false alarms since they were still raw from the betrayal. Before giving credence to my emotional responses, I learned to ask myself the following questions to determine if they were a reaction to something in the present moment or if they were simply an emotional echo from the past:

Is my response disproportionate to the situation?

It was just a silly argument over a coffeepot with my now-husband in our early days of dating. But my body saw it as life or death. I don’t even remember the details, but I do remember that the intensity of my response scared me. My body felt as though electricity was coursing through my vessels, charging my limbs so that I was prepared to fight or flee.

In reality, there was no danger. Not only was I physically safe, but this event did not even register on the relationship threat scale. My overreaction had nothing at all to do with the present moment and everything to do with the trauma in my past.

Am I experiencing a sense of déjà vu?

Shortly before our wedding, my now-husband detailed to me his plans for turning the basement into a home theater. As he was going over the floorplan and the modifications that would be needed, I was transported to a similar discussion with my first husband when he decided to build himself an office in the basement. An office that soon became the headquarters for his deceptions.

The whole time the basement theater was taking shape, I felt like I was occupying two locations in time and space. As much as I tried to stay present with the excitement of the theater, my fears kept pulling me back to the moment when I discovered the extent of my first husband’s lies hidden within his below-ground office.

 

Am I feeling like I’m out of control? 

When I discovered that my first husband had been living a double life and, by extension, I had been living a fabricated one, I entered free fall. It’s a disorienting feeling to realize that you’ve been manipulated for so long. When I’m triggered, my thoughts begin to spiral out of control. My mind will race from one thing to the next and it’s like the air has been bled from my normal self-soothing pathways.

I’ve learned that this out-of-body reaction only occurs when something takes me back to those early moments of utter and complete panic. When I’m responding to something solely anchored in the present day, my feet remain firmly anchored on the ground and I feel in control of my emotions and my responses.

 

 

Am I reaching premature conclusions?

Perhaps in a desperate attempt to never be deceived again, my subconscious brain began to assign reasons to any single point of data, no matter how inconsequential or likely benign. It was the equivalent of a hypochondriac assuming that a headache must be the result of a fatal brain tumor, rather than first addressing the much likelier causes of dehydration or too much caffeine.

When trying to ascertain if a perceived threat was real, I learned to list, in writing, the facts and only the facts. This helped me see if I was reaching a logical conclusion based on the available information or if I took a leap of panic into the worst-case scenario.

 

 

Am I assuming malicious intentions?

One of the hallmarks of over responding to a stimulus is taking everything as a personal affront. Whenever I find myself taking things too personally and assuming that it is a directed attack towards me, I know now that I’m really reacting to what has happened in the past.

A key way that this used to manifest in my new relationship is whenever my husband would be more reserved or withdrawn, I immediately assumed that I was the reason for the distance and that he was pulling away intentionally. This hypothesis would then be accepted even without any evidence to support it.

 

 

The more I answered, “Yes” to these questions, the more likely my response was rooted in the past and had little to do with my present situation. I also understood that continuing to have an emotional reaction to these situations would have a detrimental impact on my present life. And it was my responsibility to learn how to neutralize the triggers and my responses.

One event in particular highlighted the progress I was making on deactivating my triggers. It was shortly after my now-husband and I married. While at work, I received a notification that money had been transferred out of a joint gift account in the amount of $500, a little less than half what was available. The alert did not specify where the money moved.

My stomach dropped as my brain raced back to the memory of examining the account records after my ex left, where I discovered countless transfers in the $500 range. Transfers to accounts that I did not have access to. My emotional response in the present was telling me to panic, that this was a sign of deception and marital fraud all over again.

But this time, I stayed in control. I focused on the facts: my now-husband had never shown any signs of betrayal, I had the vast majority of my funds in my name only and so I wasn’t at the same risk as before, and all I knew was that the money had moved. Resisting the urge to make this my husband’s problem, I took a few deep breaths and continued my day.

Once I arrived home, I pulled up the account on my computer. The money had been moved into our joint savings account, as we had previously agreed. The amount was determined by limits set by the bank. What my triggers had assumed was deception was, in reality, an act of kindness.

And that’s the problem with triggers. They conclude guilt and demand proof of innocence. Deactivating them lies in believing first in decency yet also keeping the eyes open to signs of dishonesty or hostility. Trust in your perceptions but verify before assuming.