Dealing With the Shame and Embarrassment of Being Cheated On
Shame: The Silent Relationship Killer
Is shame at the root of your relationship problems?
In most discussions of the common relationship killers, the usual suspects are named: infidelity, finances, addiction, abuse, changes in external demands, or a growing distance between the partners. Yet, there is a silent relationship killer that often lurks underneath those commonly listed reasons and is a contributing factors to many reasons cited for a relationship’s demise. A condition that affects many, yet is rarely recognized and even more infrequently discussed.
Shame.
Shame is poorly understood; it is often seen as interchangeable with embarrassment. Yet they’re not the same. You’re embarrassed when your zipper fails and you have to resort to staples to get through the day without an inadvertent indecent exposure charge. You’re ashamed when you live and work alongside financially secure people and you’re wearing pilled and tired attire because you cannot afford new clothes. In the first case, the problem is with the item of clothing. In the second scenario, the clothes are only the surface. The real issue is deeper, perhaps a feeling of being unworthy and inferior.
Shame tells you that you are not enough.
Shame is a hidden condition. It hides behind happy faces and lives inside enviable homes. It’s often ignored. Frequently misdiagnosed. And almost always malignant, spreading its blight throughout.
The causes of shame are variable and are often embedded in childhood where the message was either explicitly received or inadvertently assumed. The child that feels unwanted can become an adult burdened by shame. Children who are raised around addiction often assume the blame for the disease. Those that face unending criticism or unachievable goals may continue to feel “less than.”
Shame strips you of your power. It makes you feel small and vulnerable.
Shame is toxic to relationships. It encourages secret-keeping by insinuating that if revealed, the person will no longer be loved or even accepted. Shame creates distance between the partners as one feels unseen and the other feels excluded. Shame becomes the elephant in the room, unspoken of yet so big that it has its own gravitational pull. Shame says, “You’re not okay. And if people discover that truth, you’ll be discarded.”
Shame wants to be hidden because exposure removes its leverage.
Holding on to hidden shame is ultimately a losing battle. It grows like dough set out to rise, stubbornly overflowing its barriers. It manifests in unhealthy behaviors, everything from overeating to toxic masculinity.
And many of those unhealthy behaviors are potentially relationship-destroying.
Shame and Infidelity
The causes of infidelity are myriad and complex. And shame is a companion to many of those justifications. When someone is feeling shamed, they may be tempted to exert their power wherever they can. It’s a childlike, “I’ll show you,” reaction that can have disastrous consequences. When feeling less than, any attention from somebody who is “forbidden” will be especially attractive, especially if the shame is anchored in ideas around sex (think about the common Madonna/whore complex).
Shame and Money
When a child first realizes that their family does not have the same means as the others, it becomes a shameful secret to keep hidden. No matter how much material success is found in adulthood, that early lesson may remain tucked away. For others, this shame begins when a job is lost or when illness steals away the ability to earn. Our culture places a great deal of emphasis on earning power (especially for men), leaving those on the lower end of the spectrum feeling as though they are inferior.
Shame and Addiction
This is such a complicated relationship. If addiction is in the family of origin, shame was a constant companion from the beginning. many people try to silence their shame through the use of substances and then the addiction in turn feeds the feelings of shame. Notice that the first step in any twelve step program is braving the influence of the shame and being willing to admit to having a problem.
Shame and Abuse
In the typical abuse cycle, the frustration and discontent builds until there is an eruption of fists or angry words. Then, a feeling of shame and regret prompts the abuser to attempt to make amends. Until the energy builds again and the cycle is repeated. The abused also may feel ashamed, believing that they deserved the mistreatment (hint: they don’t).
Shame and Distance
It’s impossible to be truly close to someone who is secretly battling shame. They have walled off a huge part of their history and their psyche. They are afraid of letting you in, of letting you see. So instead, they play a role and pretend to be the person they wish they were. And the most unfortunate and unfair part? You will likely be accused of not understanding them even though you have repeatedly tried.
Shame does not have to be a permanent condition.
In fact, the remedy for shame is actually pretty simple (although far from easy) – talk about it.
Shame tells you that you’re the only one. Talking about it provides the opportunity for you to hear, “Me too.”
Shame tells you that you will be rejected. Supportive comments and reactions allow for you to be seen and accepted.
Shame tells you that you have to carry the burden alone. Sharing it means that the load is dispersed.
Shame tells you that you’re broken.
Revealing the cracks lets the healing light in.
Are you struggling with moving on? Life at the Intersection of Yesterday and Tomorrow is for you.
Speaking Out: Why Hiding Your Struggles Makes it Worse
At this point, the only real regret I have about my first marriage was that I didn’t know.
Not about the financial and sexual infidelity (although it would have been nice to have had some insider information!). And not even about his plan to leave and secure another wife.
I regret that I didn’t know about his struggles with addiction and depression.
Because when it comes down to it, that is the real tragedy.
And unlike the bizarre secret life and the bigamy, hiding battles with addiction and depression* is exceedingly common.
And the consequences of trying to conceal these struggles are far-reaching and often devastating.
*I limit my emphasis here to addiction and depression partly because I believe those are the struggles my ex faced and because those are the two areas that I still witness the most stigma around. These same ideas hold true for most struggles – from weight loss to divorce, from anxiety to dealing with loss. These are the hard parts of the human journey. And they share a common language that we all speak if we’re willing to listen.
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At this point, I can only guess at what happened. At what demons my ex was wrestling with behind closed doors and only witnessed with closed eyes.
I know that he was taught from a young age the skill of hiding. He covered for his father when he was drunk at his son’s birthday party. He created stories to keep classmates away from his house and its concealed secrets. He learned to keep his tears in and his shoulders up.
I knew these things. I saw these things. But I also thought he was different with me. That he could open up. Feel safe. He showed me some secrets. I mistakenly thought he revealed them all.
I learned otherwise when I opened the cupboard doors in the basement after he left. The clutter of empty bottles spoke of another side of my husband. A darker side. A struggling side.
A side he never let me see.
Part of me wonders if is some strange way, by living this other life in secret and then leaving suddenly, he was trying to protect me. Shield me from his shadow-self. He had always seen himself as my guardian.
Or maybe he was too ashamed to reveal his internal conflicts and fears. His concern with his outward appearance and perception increased while his downward spiral accelerated. Ever afraid as being seen as less-than, something he perceived in his own father.
Perhaps he was afraid at the repercussions of speaking out about his problems. I have to admit, I would not have taken it well, especially if it had been hidden for some time. He may have been fearful of my anger. My disappointment. And my own fear.
Or maybe it was more about the fear of being judged by his family. His friends and coworkers. The world. At being distilled down to a single word – “depressed”. Or “addict”. Instead of a singularly complex man.
Conceivably, his depression or addiction had him feeling spun out of control. And so orchestrating his own magic show of misdirection and misinformation became his way of exerting control. Of making the pain somehow a little more bearable. I’m no stranger to that trick.
Of course, he may not even have possessed that level of self-awareness, simply seeking refuge from his pain wherever it could be found. Doubtful that true help could ever be obtained. And instead of seeing himself as struggling in the moment, he may have seen himself as permanently broken. Or maybe he couldn’t even bear to face himself at all.
And that’s the part that breaks my heart.
For him. And for all the others like him that are too stoic or too afraid or too ashamed to speak out.
Because no matter what his reasons were for not speaking out, not reaching out,
Keeping it in only made it worse.
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I Don’t Want to Hurt Them
It’s natural to want to shield those we love from excessive pain or ugliness. We care for them. We want the best for them. Even when it’s at the expense of ourselves.
There’s a magical thinking that can occur – if I can only keep this hidden from them, I’ll fix it on my own and everything will be the same. Yet upon reaching that point, things have already changed. For one, it’s impossible to be fully present when you’re presenting with a facade. You’re playacting. And that’s not fair to you or to them. Also, one of the strongest human drives is to be seen and accepted for who we are. And by wearing a mask, you’re isolating yourself.
We all need a human connection. We wither away without affection, attention and connection just as easily as we do without without food. When you make a decision to keep it in out of a sense of obligation, you’re starving yourself of the very sustenance you need to get better.
Furthermore, although you may believe you’re holding this in out of altruism, it’s ultimately a selfish act. You’ve decided that you are the one in control of their reality and you’re guiding it along based on your script alone.And when they find out – and they will eventually find out – the fact that you have kept the truth hidden from them will prompt anger, frustration, sadness and self-doubt.
Truly acting in their best interest occurs when you present them with the facts and allow them to reach their own decisions.
It is not your responsibility to ensure that others never feel pain. It is your responsibility to not willingly inflict needless suffering. And trying too hard to protect somebody often results in the pain magnifying needlessly.
I’m Afraid of Disappointing People
It’s not unusual for those stricken with depression or addiction to be people-pleasers. To want to be liked and often to find their own validation through that of others. And so when depression or addiction, with its inevitable impact on daily life and productivity, rears its ugly head, it can be easy to try to keep it under the covers for fear of letting down those around you.
You don’t want to go from being seen as “the smart one” to “the sad one.” From “the person who is always there for me” to “the person who never shows up.” Or “the responsible one” to “the don’t-trust-them-with-anything one.” And so you keep quiet. Keep the illusion.
Yet, just like you are not responsible for making sure that nobody ever feels pain, you are also not responsible for making others happy. For pleasing them. You do you and don’t worry so much about them.
Witnessing disappointment in the eyes of another is like a reflection of yourself that you have been avoiding. And maybe that’s exactly what you need to face.
I’m Afraid of Being Judged
And sadly, you will be.
By people who don’t understand, who believe that it can never happen to them and that you are somehow “less than” for letting it happen to you. By people that refuse to see you as a person with an illness rather than simply a walking label. By people who believe that strength is found in silence and that you are weak by speaking out. When in reality, their judgment is only because they’re cowardly with facing uncomfortable truths. By people that see depression and addiction as character flaws instead of character-builders. By people that have narrow minds because they are threatened by the inclusion of the unknown. By people that believe that they can control everything in their lives and are not willing to concede otherwise.
You will be judged.
Not because of who you are. But because of who the adjudicators are.
Don’t let them define your life for you. Be stronger than their fears and more forthcoming than their views.
Let them judge. And seek to prove them wrong.
I’m Ashamed of Who I Am
One of the most important things to realize about the illnesses of addiction and depression is that they lie to you. They devise reasons why it’s imperative that you remain secretive. Not because it’s better for you. But because it’s better for the illness. They grow stronger in the dark, unchecked by outside influence.
They tell you that because you have failed at something, you are a failure. They whisper that you’re hopeless and then feed upon your despair. They convince you that you’re broken, unlovable and that anyone would recoil upon seeing your true nature.
Shame is perhaps the most malignant of human emotions. It is the root of so many bad choices and behaviors as it tries to distract from its own misery while inadvertently feeding it. It is the wound that screams at the sight of the sun, when light is the very thing that will bring healing.
And here’s the thing with shame – it tells you that you are alone in your feelings. When in reality, they are feelings we have all shared. And it’s only upon sharing them that this truth becomes evident.
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If you are suffering with addiction or depression currently, speak up and get the support and help you need. There is no shame in asking for help. In fact, recognizing your need for help and being brave enough to ask for it shows your strength. You are not your illness. You are so much more. Begin by refusing to listen to your illness’s orders to keep it hidden. Because that only makes it worse.
If you have suffered from addiction or depression in the past, speak out about your story. Do your part to help remove the stigma and assumptions about mental illness. Silence implies complacency with the status quo. So refuse to be silent. Allow your story to become one of understanding for those with a tendency to judge and one of inspiration for those further behind you. You don’t have to be perfect. In fact, it’s better if you show that you’re not.
If you love someone who is suffering from addiction or depression, speak with compassion. Facing a loved one’s struggles is hard. Accepting that you cannot control their decisions is scary. And setting and maintaining healthy boundaries is an on-going cycle of hope and heartbreak. Understand that they are not doing this to hurt you, they are doing this because they are hurting. So be kind. Both to them and to you. After all, we’re all in this thing together.
For all of you who have spoken out, I respect you and your courage. I hope my former husband has joined your ranks.
Related:
Hurt People Hurt People and the 7 Keys of Conscious Compassion
The Judgement of Pain – Enough Already!
They’re dropping like flies. The daily bombardment of death and destruction as the bombs render flesh and landscape into unrecognizable rubble is too much to bear and the drone operators are leaving the job behind to retain their sanity. The intimate, up-close view brings the carnage into reality, even when the one operating the drone is safely occupying a padded chair in a cubicle back in the U.S.
And compounding the anguish?
Many of these pilots are shamed for their feelings, since they are not “real” soldiers and their bodies are not facing physical harm. Their healthy-looking bodies belie their broken minds.
And yes, if you had to put human suffering on a continuum, being physically present in a war zone would certainly seem to be worse than viewing it through a television screen.
But here’s the important part.
We don’t have to put pain on a continuum.
We don’t have to adjudicate and rank hardships.
Better or worse is not only relative, it’s inconsequential.
All that matters for that person is how they feel.
And that they receive compassion, support and encouragement (from themselves and others) to feel better.
Because when we judge suffering, we only add to it.
I read a Twitter exchange the other day between two people who had stumbled across my piece on The Huffington Post about PTSD after divorce:
I know nothing about these two people and what they have endured. I did not attempt to engage them in conversation. But the exchange made me sad. Not for me, but for the many people who find my site by entering in some combination of “PTSD” and “divorce” into their search engine. Those people are in real pain and they are looking for real validation that their feelings are okay. And probably hope that they will again be okay.
And by telling them that they are not allowed to feel that way, all it does is add shame to the mix. Because if they are not “supposed” to feel that way, then something must be wrong with them.
The first step to resolving suffering is to accept it.
Only then can you begin to address it.
I have to be careful myself with judging pain. Every day, I deal with teenagers who are inconsolable because of some issue that, from my adult perspective, seems petty.
Because they are not seeing it from an adult perspective.
They can’t.
All they know is that based upon what they have experienced, this situation hurts.
And my job is to listen, acknowledge the distress and help them move beyond it.
The takeaways –
- It doesn’t matter where someone’s experience falls on the continuum of human suffering. All that matters is where it falls on his or her personal continuum.
- Just because someone’s situation was worse, doesn’t mean their pain was. Don’t assume.
- When we judge pain, we are saying that we understand their pain. And we can’t. Because we haven’t lived his or her life.
- Judgement does not alleviate pain; it compounds it. Acknowledgement and compassion are the first steps to ease the suffering.
- By focusing on the similarities in the responses rather than fixating on the differences that caused the pain, together we can learn how to heal.
And, just so you know, the response was not accepted on the Huffington piece because comments are closed due to the age of the article, not because of any censorship of alternative viewpoints. It’s always interesting how we all make assumptions based upon our beliefs and experiences. Myself included.
Voices of Divorce
We all know about The Five Love Languages, but do you know about the five voices of divorce? You may not refer to them by name, but if you have faced the end of a relationship, you have certainly heard their call. Unlike the gentle languages of love, the voices of divorce are harsh, often abusive in tone. They tell us that we are broken, they implore us to lash out at ourselves and others and they plant seeds of fear and doubt. If we listen to the voices for too long, we risk believing their lies and falling into their trap. Learn the tricks that the five voices of divorce use and how to escape their grasp. Click here to read the rest of the post.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 