It comes down to what ‘living a lie’ means. For me - it means lying about an on-going affair, or on-going desire for other people. In other words - lying (or not telling) about things that are impacting our relationship right now. So even if my wife isn’t cheating on me, but instead has desires for other men and finds it difficult to remain faithful - that would be ‘living a lie’ in that she is keeping something from me that is, whether I know it or not, impacting our relationship right now.
On the other hand, I don’t consider it ‘living a lie’ if she’s keeping something to herself that happened years ago and that has no impact on our current lives or relationship. If it was a one-time thing, had no emotional component, and she has no current desire to cheat on me again - then, while it’s dishonest, it’s not actively ‘living a lie’ right now.
Finding out about a one-time infidelity years ago would weaken our relationship but not add any tangible benefit to my life. Finding out about a current or recent infidelity wouldn’t weaken our relationship - because that would have already happened. It would, however, let me know that our relationship was severely damaged - which would be a good thing.
Well… I’m pretty sure this is not real productive either.
Think about why you’re looking for something on the side. Are you unhappy with some part of your relationship? Is there some need that’s unfulfilled?
If you’re momentarily tempted because a good-looking someone just walked by, then that alone is not a real thought about infidelity and there’s no real point in sharing it. On the other hand, if you’re really being tempted, then something needs to be done and you probably need your partner to be involved in doing it.
So, I wouldn’t necessarily start the conversation off with “I was thinking about sleeping with Marsha.” I might not even bring that up at all. (Again, my position is on this whole thing is to be truthful in response to any questions, but not every truth needs to be volunteered.)
I know I’m coming at it from an oblique angle*, but although the specifics of the exclusivity-promise thing aren’t my thing, I have some familiarity with intimacy. And real intimacy isn’t very compatible with feeling like there are things you can’t share. If I no longer feel like “here is a person I can open up to about anything and expect to be heard, cared about, and understood”, it’s never going to feel like we’re truly intimate any more. The secret would get in the way, hugely so.
If the event happened years ago and, as you said, has no impact on your current relationship, then in what way would it weaken your relationship to have knowledge of it?
It would plant a seed of doubt. Rationally I would believe that the intervening years of committed and faithful marriage were what mattered most. But emotionally, I’d struggle with it and would be at least slightly less trusting (perhaps that’s a good thing, I don’t know).
I like the point that Chronos makes. I think the cheating spouse is obliged to figure out why he or she did so, and what that reason means for the marriage. Otherwise good people who cheat, in my view, are most likely doing so because they’re not happy with some aspect of the marriage. Fixing the marriage is not just a matter of “stop cheating;” it requires fixing the problem that opened the door to cheating in the first place. This may require changes from both spouses, potentially uncomfortable ones, and that in turn may require a level of honesty that calls for confession. I.e., “because I’m asking you to make these changes, I think you need to know just how serious the problem is.”
On the other hand, I suppose there may be instances where the cheater can figure things out on his or her own and re-commit to the marriage without bringing the other person in, and confession may not be necessary. Perhaps, “I freaked out and had a fling when I learned we were having a child, but now that the baby is here, I realize how much I love my family, and I’m grounded again.” Maybe. And yes, the cheater is taking the chance on it being revealed later; at that point, the obligation is not just to explain what happened but also to explain why he or she didn’t confess. As long as the cheater can legitimately say that he or she withheld confession in good faith, that’s the best one can do at that point.
If the cheater wants to confess just to get the burden off his or her chest, without wanting to work on the marriage, that I think is selfish.
It’s also possible that the cheater may just be a bad person, of course, but a bad person isn’t going to be mulling over what’s the right thing to do anyway.
That is, perhaps, the point. You can’t be sure for yourself how you’d react or if you’d be better off knowing. So how can you* make that decision for someone else?
*generic you
Yes, it should happen. It won’t all the time because some people are selfish assholes, but of course it should happen. And if you think it just can’t possibly happen, you need to get out more. Couples have conversations or go into counseling all the time because one party started feeling an urge to stray. Or they may open the relationship because one party wants to have sex outside of the relationship. These are conversations that happen.
And if you feel the urge to stray, you do something about it, proactively. You protect your marital vows.
As for the rest of your justifications, they work for almost anything. Never tell your wife anything bad about yourself because if you tell her before you do it, what’s the point and if you tell her while you’re doing it what’s the point and if you tell her after you’ve done it what’s the point? Heck, that can cover anything: Embezzlement, child porn, inoperable cancer, another family in another state, a career as a hit man… She would only be upset and think less of me and that might damage our marriage, so I won’t tell her.
It’s not her upset or thinking less of you that would damage the marriage. It’s you.
Sure, they happen. But aside from guys who think they might be able to talk their wives into opening the marriage, or guys using it as a weapon to make their wives feel shitty about themselves, I can’t see a very large percentage of guys feeling a desire for extracurricular sex admitting that to their wives. I’d say less than 10%.
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Well, hell yeah. But doing it by telling the wife that you’ve been feeling the urge for something on the side? That’s just plain hard to do in a way that isn’t gonna make her feel like crap. Most of us guys know upfront that we’re not up to it.
No, I don’t think so. Infidelity is different from most of those. (Another family in another state falls under the heading of infidelity: “dear, I think I’d like to start another family with another woman in another state.” And a desire for child porn is one of those things that you’d be afraid to admit to anyone, so that one’s pretty much off the charts.)
I mean, if I told my wife I was thinking of embezzling some money, we’d have an interesting conversation indeed, but it wouldn’t be personal in the way that expressing a desire to have some outside action would.
You’re right: the visions that would run through her head of me in intimate action with another woman for years afterwards wouldn’t make things any worse than they already are. The tailspin it would put her in, feeling like a rock she knew she could stand on has just disintegrated, a tailspin it would take even longer to recover from, wouldn’t make things any worse.
Yes, the infidelity itself harms the relationship. I’m not saying it doesn’t. But it’s insubstantial harm, harm that can quite possibly be repaired without the other person ever being aware that they’ve been hurt. The other person may have sensed something was going on, but now that the affair’s over, that’s gone too. They haven’t yet felt like their insides have been kicked out, and if you keep it to yourself, they may never feel that. Choosing instead to add that into the mix couldn’t possibly hurt more than you’ve already hurt them.
Yeah, absolutely. If I were ever in such a situation, I should do all that in the name of truth.
Hell, no. You’re right that I would have hurt the relationship. But if I don’t tell her, I could largely contain that harm within my soul. I would deal with my guilt inside, be a good husband, and protect her from a massive hurt. I would say to myself, my wife will probably live another 30 years or so. I wouldn’t want her to spend ten or fifteen of those years dealing with the emotional fallout of my having shared with her something that I could have kept from her. Hell, maybe she’d go to her grave without ever getting over it.
Would the rest of her life be better or worse if I confess? I’d say a lot worse. End of story.
I disagree completely. The guy in the first case is showing far more respect for his partner and is clearly the more trustworthy of the two. For me, it would be a matter of commitment to having an open and honest relationship. My partner and I each have a right to know the state of our relationship, and a responsibility to inform the other if that changes.
Every day we all make choices that put the relationship before our own wants or even needs. Would she continue to work 40 hour weeks if she knew there was this breach int he relationship? Or might she dedicate herself more to her career, do some overtime and get that promotion? Or take that new position out on the coast? Who knows what life choices she’s made under the assumption that she is choosing a healthy, faithful relationship over some personal benefit?
He has stolen from her the right to make those choices with all the information she needs.
I disagree. there is no transfer. The cheater does not magically lose the pain and guilt of having cheated. In fact, they then shoulder the responsibility of rebuilding the relationship or accepting the decision they have finally empowered the innocent party to make (whether or not to forgive.)
A lot of these answers assume that the only motivation for telling is assuaging the guilt. I think that’s the least of the reasons one should choose to tell.
I agree wholeheartedly with this.
Exactly, it returns the balance of power in the relationship to an equal place. Withholding the information steals the right of decision from the innocent party.
This is fascinating to me, because we are on complete opposite ends of the fidelity spectrum. For me, the intimacy of sex is so great, it absolutely has to be in the context of a monogamous relationship. Anyone I’m having sex with know this, and knows that I would never agree to sex with them if I knew they’d been sleeping around. They also know that I would rather be in hell with the truth, than in heaven with a lie.
If he cheated, and didn’t tell me, and then had sex with me again, every time that happened would feel to me like a rape, because he knew full well that the answer would be “Hell no!” If I knew about the infidelity. And any happy memories we had built throughout that period would now be tarnished for me; I could never enjoy thinking of those times again knowing that they were based upon a lie.
And the whole reason I’d feel that way is exactly what you said: If there is no interactive sharing-intimacy, then I wouldn’t want any physical intimacy. The worst thing he could do is not tell me honestly where I stand.
Back to the OP: There’s a chance I would forgive someone who cheated and told me, and worked with me to repair things. It’s a fairly slim chance, but it exists.
If he never told me, and I found out somehow, I can’t think of any scenario in which I would ever be capable of trusting him again. Plus, we’ve added however many instances of him having sex with me knowing it was against my wishes? And he had no qualms about taking away my right to choose a response to the situation? That shows a shocking lack of respect for my rights as an individual. No freaking way I could trust this guy again.
Agreed. Doing it is bad enough. Doing it and then confessing to relieve your own guilt is even worse … and ultimately that’s the only reason TO ever confess.
My SIL (I’ll call her Roberta) heard the truth and chose to stay. And then I watched her transform from a loving, giddy bride-to-be into a depressed and bitter wife almost overnight. Before he cheated with Sarah, Roberta didn’t feel at all threatened by his ex. But afterward, Roberta became obsessed with her. It was so unhealthy that it got to the point where no one called her anymore, because all we’d hear about was what a fucking cunt Sarah was. Roberta was an emotional wreck for years, and not only did she suffer, but their kids suffered by extension.
In my heart, I believe she’d have been far happier had he not confessed.
So, I’m not coming at it from the angle of the cheater. I’m looking at it from the POV of the hurt spouse. I don’t personally know anyone whose life was made better for the knowing. And if it’s only going to inflict more pain, isn’t it kinder to spare them that knowledge?
I mean, to me, it’s akin to hearing that your son has been killed. Is it okay to withhold the fact that he was beheaded during the accident? Is truth something to be sought no matter what the emotional cost?
Your analogy references telling someone about a major, painful incident and leaving out an insignificant detail. Seems to me this thread’s scenario is closer to having an estranged child, and no one bothering to tell you that son died, leaving you to live your life assuming you’ve still got a child out there somewhere, perhaps with some hope of reconnecting some day…
For those of you who think it’s best not to share, I’m genuinely curious about whether you’re comfortable having this conversation (about whether you’d want to know or not) with your spouse or significant other. Are you both on the same page?
Admittedly, when it has come up in conversation, it’s usually been in the abstract, rather than a specific discussion about what WE would do. Both of us are very clear that cheating is wrong, and that we wouldn’t do it. But both of us also agree, as a general proposition, that if you’ve done it once, in the past, and have no intention of doing it again, you should keep your damn mouth shut, for everybody’s sake.
For us, the topic has generally emerged as the result of the entertainment industry. A cheater confessing to past infidelities is a not-uncommon device in television and the movies, and whenever it happens, we both agree that the person was stupid, and should have left well enough alone.
