Once a Cheater

This editorial series, S-E-X, is brought to you by the Fort Worth Moms Blog and Andrea Palmer, MD FACOG with Fenom Women’s Care. All 15 original articles from the S-E-X series can be found on our website.

“Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

We’ve all heard that before. Every woman in the room nods her head in agreement. But I am here to tell you that it’s not always true. I should know. Because once upon a time, I cheated on my husband.

I have never met a woman who has been unfaithful to her husband say to herself, “You know what? I think I’d like to go cheat on my husband today.” No. That isn’t the way it starts at all. It starts with this unspoken, maybe even unrecognized, need for attention. For compliments. For a break in the monotony of everyday life. For a normal conversation with a man that doesn’t turn into an argument.

It starts with the need to feel valued again. And we all have those needs, don’t we? We all have those days when we look at our own faces in the mirror, but the reflection is almost unrecognizable. The only thought that comes to mind is, “Who am I anymore?” If you combine those normal, everyday feelings with a lack of good boundaries and solid judgment, you can find yourself in a real mess. And that’s where I was.

I would have never believed myself capable of cheating. That was my first mistake. Friends, we are all capable. Given the right circumstances, we are capable of being swept up in conversation, surprised at how easily we laugh with someone other than our husbands.

For me, that small talk turned into something deeper. Before long I was sharing how my day went. It felt nice to be heard. To be complimented. Those conversations quickly took over my thoughts. It was so subtle, I didn’t even see it coming. The daily exchange of easy, lighthearted communication was so refreshing. I didn’t have to talk about appointments or laundry or what we were having for dinner. I could talk about my dreams. I could tell silly stories from my childhood, and he listened with wonder. This relationship became my focus.

I was still working and parenting and going through the day-to-day in my marriage. But my heart was somewhere else. My dreams began to shift toward what life would be like outside of my troubled marriage and in a life with this other man. I could imagine us making dinners together. I had ordinary dreams of watching the kids play in the backyard while we sat out on the deck at sunset. Oh yes. I was gone long before I was actually gone.

Somewhere along the way, I confided in a friend about what was happening. “Cut it off,” she said. “You can stop this. It’s not too late.” But for me, it felt too late. I no longer cared about the consequences. All I knew was that I had finally found someone who got me. Who really understood me. Who listened to me. We had started seeing each other during the work day. It felt too late to walk away.

Did I feel guilty? Absolutely. I felt terribly guilty. How could I not? As a southern God-fearing woman, I was going against everything I knew to be right. I was conflicted and tired. All of the hiding and secret-keeping began to wear on me. I hated the act. I knew it was all going to end, and end badly. And it did.

Within a few months, it was over. My secret came out in the open, and my world began to unravel. I lost my husband. I lost my church-related job. I lost friends. People in our small town took sides, and I found myself in a place where I felt like I had nothing more to lose.

I began the process of picking up the pieces of my life. I had to keep going. I found a new job. I went to counseling. I didn’t grasp the weight of what I had done until many months later. I spent those weird in-between months grieving all of my losses, and trying to come to terms with the fact that it was my own fault. When I finally did, I tried to make amends. I knew I couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. So I did what I could and apologized to those I had hurt with my terrible decisions. I asked for forgiveness. I tried to forgive myself. As it turns out, that was the hardest part.

Now married again, I know what I have. I am fiercely protective of my marriage in a way that I wasn’t wise enough to be with my first. So when I hear someone say “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” I cringe. I want to step in and explain that sometimes you lose enough the first time around, you never want to go back and repeat the same mistake.

I want to offer a gentle reminder that we would all do well to be so, so careful. To guard our hearts against sentimental social media messages from ex-boyfriends and flirty comments from co-workers, and to invest deeply in the families we formed when we said “I do.”