Blindsided….!

Ambushed…!

…rug pulled out from under me…!

Betrayed…!

These are the feelings expressed by many individuals who show up in my office with their partner who’s been caught cheating.

“I thought everything was going well. Maybe not perfectly but well enough to feel good about things.”

“I never thought in a million years she would do what she did. I trusted her completely.”

“Everyone said we were the perfect couple. People often told me they wished they had the kind of marriage we have.”

“The kids love him! He’s a great dad. I don’t understand what happened.”

Sometimes all of this is the product of exceptionally effective deception. Sometimes it’s the product of a powerful desire to see only what one wants to see. Often it’s a combination.

Recovering from infidelity is a long, often slow process. But, in many cases (maybe most) it can be done. Infidelity creates a profound rupture with its first casualty being innocence. Many individuals (even those in their second or third serious relationship) cling to the notion that their current relationship is a good one. They focus on its strengths and actively paint a picture of a successful future. When infidelity disrupts that cultivated image, innocence is lost immediately. And once innocence is lost it can never be regained. The only real option going forward is to fully embrace adulthood.

Embracing adulthood in this circumstance means owning responsibility. Healing after an affair requires both spouses to search their souls to determine how each of them contributed to the rupture.

In the heat of the moment, it’s often tempting to believe Infidelity is a one-way street. But, it rarely is.

A common response is…

“He/She did this to me. I am completely innocent and played no role in this happening.”

That’s a righteous stance… sometimes a self-righteous stance. And, it’s a stance that mitigates against meaningful reconciliation.

If partnership is the essential characteristic of a committed relationship then responding to relationship problems (even infidelity) must incorporate the demands of partnership. In the best of circumstances, each party acknowledges some contribution to the problem. Without mutual accountability, repair (if you can call it that) is lopsided at best. Attempts to rebuild the relationship without mutual accountability will simply result in an ongoing rupture of partnership. It’s not that each party contributes equally to the problem. The distribution of accountability can vary widely but to suggest that there is no distribution is to abandoned the notion of partnership.

Consider this…

Once infidelity has occurred, the next question each partner must ask is, “How can I be faithful to the repair.” It’s easy to be faithful to blame and guilt. It’s much harder to be faithful to the larger goal of mutual repair.

I’ve been wanting to address the topic of temptation for a long time. It’s a subject that fascinates me intellectually and torments me personally. Perhaps there are people who are unaffected by temptation. I have yet to meet that kind of person. Having resisted temptation often and having given in to it many, many times, I’m certainly not one of them. Actually, it’s hard for me to imagine a world without temptation…even in heaven. If heaven exists, I certainly hope it offers a place for temptation.

So, what is there to recommend temptation?

First, it’s a guaranteed encounter. If you assume, as I do, that relationships are, at their most basic, about the encounter between two forces (individuals each with their own agenda) then temptation offers an interesting venue for the experience of encounter. Depending on the quality of the temptation and the integrity of the person being tempted, it can offer a seriously intense, meaningful and growth producing encounter.

Second, if you assume, as I do, that the most profound learning takes place experientially, then temptation offers that in spades. There’s nothing quite like staring real temptation in the face to learn what you’re made of. That moment tells you all you need to know about the nature of your strengths and weaknesses. What you are tempted by speaks volumes about who you are.

Third, it’s a powerful occasion for the experience of humility. Nothing tells you more about your weaknesses than temptation. Listen to how we frequently refer to this moment. “I have a weakness for ice cream.” Or, “I have a weakness for get rich quick schemes.” Or, “I have a weakness for damsels in distress.” Or, “I have a weakness for believing I can make people happy.”

The fact is… there’s temptation at every turn. It doesn’t have to be some God awful, moral dilemma. It can be something that looks to everyone around us to be fairly mundane. Personally, I’m regularly tempted to walk away from conflict. Some might call that a virtue. I know it’s a weakness to which I succumb regularly.

Should we avoid temptation? Most would say, “Absolutely!”

I’m not so sure about that. I tend to think that if we allowed ourselves to acknowledge it more regularly (as opposed to pretending it doesn’t exist) we would develop “muscles” that would make encounters with temptation safe, interesting and productive. In addition, sharing the experience of temptation with a partner can increase personal strength and deepen the relationship.

Temptations are essentially tests that offer an opportunity to make a conscious choice. To avoid temptation is to avoid moments that demand a grown up response. The more I’m willing to acknowledge temptation and deal with it straightforwardly, the more I experience myself as an adult with agency. That being said, I’m not sure that giving in to temptation is always a bad thing. This is particularly true when the giving in is done consciously.

Consider this…

Partners who share their temptations with each other are exercising trust in a way that demonstrates courage, acceptance and maturity.

There’s the notion out there that we are always comparing our current circumstance to what we had in the past and to other possible options in the present. Some would say that’s a natural, even inevitable, activity. Assuming, that making comparisons is inevitable, how do you evaluate the results of this exercise?

Here are five points of view that deserve consideration as you weigh the results of comparing.

HISTORY

Relationship history is very important. It shows up most obviously in the form of family photo albums and children. These are the things that ground us in space and time. They often help to make sense of the present and create a foundation for future.

If, when a couple looks at their history, they see about the same thing, the likelihood of moving forward together increases dramatically. If, however, each holds a very different understanding of the past, reconciliation can be very difficult. Joining for a solid future together requires a joint understanding of the past.
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So, ask yourselves if the two of you see roughly the same thing when you look at your relationship past. If you do, choosing to move forward together offers a real possibility for success. If you don’t, moving forward together will be difficult.

STRENGTHS

Identify those things that are clearly relationship strengths. Notice things that were strengths at the beginning of the relationship and those that are currently strengths. Pay attention to how solidly these strengths are held. Do they show up often? Are they noticed by both of you? Do they offer comfort and security? Are they things that will matter in the future? Can they be sustained?

Sometimes strengths are transient. For example, having and raising children can be a relationship strength but when the children get older and create their own lives the strength they represented earlier may evaporate.
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Noticing strengths is a bit like attending to resources in anticipation of retirement. Will there be enough to sustain the two of you over time?

So, ask yourself if the two of you identify the same relationship strengths and value them similarly. Ask how willing you are to embrace the strengths your partner identifies. And, ask yourself how you weigh your relationship strengths against the weaknesses.

RESPONSE TO INCOMPATIBILITIES

No couple is completely compatible. There are always points of disagreement…points of disconnect. It’s not incompatibility that dooms a relationship so much as it is the couple’s response to their incompatibility. Couples can live full, deep and productive lives together despite their incompatibility if they are able to respect and feel respected. It’s when differences result in an inability to respect that trouble shows up.

For example, a husband and wife may have very different parenting styles. If, however, they can see the value in the other’s style and respect what it brings to the situation, life together can be dynamic and productive. If, on the other hand, each sees the other’s style as fundamentally flawed and even dangerous to childrearing, their incompatibility will destabilize their relationship and each will have a hard time feeling respected for what he/she offers.

​So, ask yourself if the ways in which you and your partner are incompatible actually strengthens the relationship. Notice how easily or how difficultly you feel respected by your partner when incompatibility shows up.

SOCIAL SUPPORT

Everyone knows “no one is an island.” At our core we are relational beings. We all want to love and be loved. It’s basic to who we are. In the same way, relationships grow and sustain themselves best with they are supported by friends and family. When those around us communicate their appreciation for the relationship we are in, it is much easier to appreciate it ourselves. When they withdraw their support for our relationship it becomes difficult to maintain the level of commitment necessary for relationship growth.

So, look around you at friends and family. Do they see good things when they look at your relationship? Are they supportive? Or do they see you needing to move away and find a new direction for your life?

HOPES AND DREAMS

Like history, how we see the future is very important. Goals, hopes and dreams are the kind of things that bring about forward movement. They give us something to work toward…a direction. A relationship without mutually agreed upon hopes and dreams flounders at best and is dead in the water at worst. It’s important that a couple have occasional conversations about what they hope for the future. It can be something as simple as conversations about a vacation and as complicated as what to do in retirement.

So, take note of the future you and your partner envision and how often that is a topic of conversation. Notice how similar your dreams are and how much each of you supports the other’s hopes.

I’ve been wanting to address the topic of temptation for a long time. It’s a subject that fascinates me intellectually and torments me personally. Perhaps there are people who are unaffected by temptation. I have yet to meet that kind of person. Having resisted temptation often and having given in to it many, many times, I’m certainly not one of them. Actually, it’s hard for me to imagine a world without temptation…even in heaven. If heaven exists, I certainly hope it offers a place for temptation.

So, what is there to recommend temptation?

First, it’s a guaranteed encounter. If you assume, as I do, that relationships are, at their most basic, about the encounter between two forces (individuals each with their own agenda) then temptation offers an interesting venue for the experience of encounter. Depending on the quality of the temptation and the integrity of the person being tempted, it can offer a seriously intense and meaningful encounter.

Second, if you assume, as I do, that the most profound learning takes place experientially, then temptation offers that in spades. There’s nothing quite like staring real temptation in the face to learn what you’re made of. That moment tells you all you need to know about the nature of your strengths and weaknesses.

Third, it’s a powerful occasion for the experience of humility. Nothing tells you more about your weaknesses than temptation. Listen to how we frequently refer to this moment. “I have a weakness for ice cream.” Or, “I have a weakness for get rich quick schemes.” Or, “I have a weakness for damsels in distress.” Or, “I have a weakness for believing I can make people happy.”

The fact is… there’s temptation at every turn. It doesn’t have to be some God awful, moral dilemma. It can be something that looks to everyone around us to be fairly mundane. Personally, I’m regularly tempted to walk away from conflict. Some might call that a virtue. I know it’s a weakness to which I succumb regularly.

Should we avoid temptation? Most would say, “Absolutely!”

I’m not so sure about that. I tend to think that if we allowed ourselves to notice it more regularly (as opposed to pretending it doesn’t exist) we would develop “muscles” that would make encounters with temptation interesting and productive.

Temptations are essentially tests that offer an opportunity to make a conscious choice. To avoid temptation is to avoid moments that demand a grown up response. The more I’m willing to acknowledge temptation and deal with it straightforwardly, the more I experience myself as an adult with agency. That being said, I’m not sure that giving in to temptation is always a bad thing. This is particularly true when the giving in is done consciously.

I graduated college in 1972. Just seeing that on my screen makes me cringe a bit. It was the tail end of the Viet Nam war and a version of the draft was still in place. Looking back on it feels surreal. The draft had moved from men being conscripted to a lottery based on birth date. If you were lucky enough to have a high number you didn’t have to join the military. If not (I’ve never been very lucky) you were called up.

I remember thinking about my cohorts, some of whom experienced combat in Viet Nam. The notion of being obliged to serve my country weighed heavily. But, for me, there was a twist. I grew up in a small Mennonite town in central Kansas. Mennonites are known for their refusal to support the military. That being the case, I had easy access to the conscientious objector status. Though I toyed with joining the military (my uncle served in Korea), I decided to claim my right to not join the military.

My sense of obligation didn’t go away.

The stories of men (boys, really) who suffered in combat plagued me. I decided to do something I thought would be comparable to fulfill my duty. In the Fall of 1972 I left the States for a year in France to learn French followed by two years on an oasis in the Algerian Sahara to teach English to adolescents. Algeria was just a few years post-revolution. Consequently, many of my students suffered from PTSD. There were many rewarding moments in Ouargla. There were also some very violent moments. I have often thought I wouldn’t give up the experience of those two years for a million dollars. And, I wouldn’t do it again for a million dollars. It was brutal.

Maybe it’s a generational thing. Maybe it’s rooted in personality. Maybe it’s just experiential. But, that time left me with a strong respect for obligation.

Over the years since Algeria I’ve frequently been accused of living more out of obligation than desire. My second wife, who died in 2009, would often express her distress at the prominence of duty in my thinking. She always wanted to be wanted…of course! Her distress confused me because I made little distinction between obligation and desire. I wanted to do my duty. But, that never seemed to satisfy.

Fast forward to today.

My work with couples regularly raises the question of obligation vs desire. Often this comes up when a couple has differing sex drives. Perhaps more than anywhere else, intimacy is where we want to be wanted.

The question I grapple with is…

“When you commit to a relationship, have you invited obligation?”

“When you make a commitment, do you enter a space where you are now obligated to live up to that commitment?”

My natural inclination is to think that once I make a commitment I do, indeed, invite obligation and living up to that is now a part of the relationship.

It feels like we live in a world where obligation has become a bad word. Desire is paramount. If we don’t desire we shouldn’t have to act. We should only do what we want to do. In the real world, that, of course, doesn’t work. There are innumerable things we are obliged to do that we don’t want to do. It’s easy to think of that when paying taxes. It’s much more complicated to think of that when parenting or when engaging an unsatisfied partner.

I usually end these posts with a definitive statement. This time I’m ending with a question that is only partially answered.

Does inviting obligation and wanting to live up to that obligation qualify as desire? If it does, what are the implications?

Dan: What’s going on here? Have you been going through my stuff?

Sandy: I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I just want to know more about you. You’re so quiet. You don’t say much about what you’re thinking or feeling. And, you don’t talk about your past.

Dan: That doesn’t give you the right to go through my stuff!

Gerry: Where were you all afternoon? I texted you several times and you didn’t respond until an hour ago.

Sarah: I was just taking some “me” time. I’d like to be able to unplug for a few hours and not feel obligated to everyone.

Gerry: The least you could do is let me know ahead of time that you’re taking “me” time. It would save me the trouble of worrying.

Joe: You seem out of sorts…not yourself. What’s up?

Melissa: I woke up in the middle of the night to see light on your phone. I got up and looked. Who’s Joan? Looks like the two of you have been texting a lot.

Joe: She’s just a co-worker who’s having a hard time. She asked me for advice. I’m just trying to help.

These are the kinds of situations that require couples to grapple with their definition privacy and secrecy.

The distinction between privacy and secrecy is often subtle. Consequently, finding a good balance between the two is more difficult than you’d expect. There are, of course, circumstances where secrecy is obvious…where the facts speak for themselves. More often, the distinction is in the “eye of the beholder.”

If both parties in the relationship are functioning optimally and there are no serious disturbances of relational tranquillity, sorting out when the circumstance is best defined as privacy and when it points to secrecy is dealt with handily. If both are open, conscientious, extraverted, agreeable and not neurotic (the Big Five Personality Traits), the likelihood that a couple will have conflict around privacy vs secrecy is low. Unfortunately, not everyone rates high on those traits.

Perhaps the best way to enter this conversation is straightforwardly. A deliberate talk early in the relationship about private space can be very useful.

For example:

“My wallet/purse is my space. You can enter it only with my permission. I’m not being secretive. I just need to you to acknowledge the fact that I have personal space.”

“When I’m in the bathroom I don’t want to be intruded upon. So…respect my space.”

“My phone is personal. I’m happy to give you access to its contents but only if you ask.”

“If you are curious about my activities I am happy to tell you what I’m doing. If, on the other hand, you are suspicious about what I’m doing I will feel the need to protect my privacy.”

Here’s the other side of the coin:

“When we got married I thought we would be pretty much completely open with each other. I’d like to know there are no barriers between us.”

“I don’t feel comfortable not know what’s going on with you. It makes me nervous and a little suspicious.”

"I feel most safe when you are voluntarily open with me.”

All of that is good, of course. But it’s only a start. Managing privacy and secrecy evolves over time. Operating on rules, consciously or unconsciously, established early in the relationship, some couples can go years without it being a point of contention. It’s only when some form of betrayal arises that privacy and secrecy are seriously discussed. And, it doesn’t have to be an egregious betrayal. It can be as minor as repeatedly showing up late without an acceptable explanation.

After experiencing betrayal, the toxicity of secrecy quickly takes center stage. In many cases the right to privacy is either voluntarily given up or lost to the demands of the suspicious partner. The loss of privacy, while understandable in the short term, isn’t sustainable over time. Self-respect demands access to privacy.

Comfortably trusting each other depends, to some extent, on a mutually agreed upon definition of privacy and secrecy. When trust is broken, retrieving that definition is a priority.

Disclaimer: I’m not a political expert. I read a lot…both right and left…and try to avoid life in an echo chamber. But, I am a relationship expert and when we get down to basics it does seem to be all about relationships. Ultimately we got in this together and we will only get out of it together.

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I’m a couple therapist so it should come as no surprise that I see the world through that lens. I’ve spent my entire professional life across from “warring” spouses each convinced of their correctness and each in some small version of a life and death struggle. So, as I’ve reflected on the political climate of the past months and the current outcome here’s what comes to mind…

All of this reminds me of the good wife who works hard cooking, cleaning and raising the kids while her successful, well-educated husband regularly, but subtly, reminds her that he thinks she’s stupid, uninformed and is only good for doing the menial tasks demanded by life.

The pattern persists for a couple of decades.

The hard-working wife cultivates hurt and resentment with each passing year and quietly plots her response to his persistent degradations. On the day she has had enough she hires the meanest, most unscrupulous lawyer to represent her when she files for divorce. She doesn’t care about the lawyer’s ethics. She just wants to stop the put-downs and disrespect.  When the time is right and her successful husband is at the office, she cleans out the house, moves into an apartment and tells her lawyer to do what needs to be done.

The lawyer, not really caring about his client and certainly not caring about her soon-to-be ex-husband, charges her “an arm and a leg,” goes for the jugular and inflicts as much damage as possible. When all is said and done the husband and wife will part company both lives shattered and poorer for the experience. The lawyer will drive off in his new Mercedes counting the profit made off two souls who couldn’t find a way to have a problem-solving conversation.

I’ve watched this unfold many times and now, it seems I’m watching it on the big stage. All of us will suffer because we couldn’t find a way to have respectful conversations that lead to actual problem resolution. Only one person wins… the lawyer who claimed he was there to protect but was only interested in lining his pockets.

…makes me profoundly sad…

Over the 45 years of being a couples therapist I’ve spent a lot of time with people who are struggling, in one way or another, with the question of fidelity. The fact is that fidelity isn’t all that straightforward. There is the conventional definition of fidelity familiar to most of us. It’s pretty simple… As long as neither of us has sex with or becomes emotionally committed to another person we are faithful. Or, more appropriately, we have avoided infidelity. It’s a low bar.

Then there is the more ubiquitous and unconventional understanding of fidelity. This shows up in subtle but meaningful ways. For example, Tom and Marianne are going to a party Tom’s boss is throwing. Five minutes after their arrival Tom is off having a great time with his co-workers leaving Marianne to fend for herself. She certainly feels awkward but, in addition, she likely feels betrayed. In some small way Tom is being unfaithful to their commitment to “have each other’s back” and more specifically he’s being unfaithful to her as a person he’s supposed to care for.

I’m making two points here. First, being faithful to your partner involves a lot more than avoiding specific behaviors. And second, there is a difference between a commitment to the relationship (marriage) and a commitment to the person who inhabits the relationship with you.

To further illustrate the point… a couple is at the alter (or before the officiant) exchanging vows. Most likely they are not saying, “I am committed to this thing we are doing right now.” No, they are expressing a commitment to each other. It’s Marianne’s commitment to Tom and Tom’s commitment to Marianne that initiates the marriage. The person-to-person commitment precedes the marriage. But, somewhere down the road we often begin to believe the marriage takes precedence over the person-to-person commitment.

I believe that the way we think of marriage contributes significantly to our inclination to value the marriage over the relationship between the participants in the marriage.

This is how we typically think about marriage…

A couple walks up the aisle, exchanges vows and walks back down the aisle into a nicely furnished cell. They close the door behind them, lock it and pitch the key out of reach. And every morning they get up and say, “I love you and I choose you.” Here, the “I love you” makes sense but the “I choose you” doesn’t because they pitched the key out of reach eliminating the possibility of choice.

In this scenario the marriage becomes primary the minute they “pitch the key out of reach.” The couple has abdicated their choice about the relationship in favor of defining it primarily in terms of marriage.

An alternate way of thinking about marriage goes like this…

A couple walks up the aisle, exchanges vows and walks back down the aisle into a nicely furnished cell. The close the door behind them, lock it and each puts a key in his/her pocket. And every morning they get up and say, “I love you and I choose you.” Both make sense because each has a key in his/her pocket. They have preserved the possibility of choice.

In this scenario the primacy of the person-to-person relationship is preserved when each puts a key in his/her pocket. In both cases the structure (marriage) remains and is a source of comfort and security.

All of this may be no more than an interesting thought experiment until a couple needs to make important decisions about how they go forward.

Let’s return, for a moment, to Tom and Marianne. Let’s assume that Tom has been unfaithful in the traditional sense. He’s had a sexual and an emotional relationship with a co-worker. Let’s further assume that Marianne discovered the affair when she saw a sexually explicit text exchange between Tom and his co-worker.

In my practice this is a very familiar scene.

In their effort to repair the damage caused by Tom’s affair, are they more likely to succeed if Marianne is insistent on saving their marriage or if she focuses her attention on her love and concern for Tom?

The distinction is important!

Tom will likely feel like a means to an end if she focuses her attention on the marriage. If she focuses her attention on him and the turmoil he is experiencing he will likely feel valued and genuinely loved.

The same is true for Tom. If he focuses his attention on Marianne and the pain she’s experiencing his chances for repair go up dramatically. By focusing his attention on saving the marriage he is likely dismissing the pointedness of Marianne’s pain. When he takes his attention off the pointedness of her pain the chances for repair go down substantially.

Often, when I’m with a couple going through the kind of experience I’ve just described I imagine myself as a firefighter approaching a house on fire. What is my first priority? Of course it is to the people that are in the burning structure. The structure itself is not at the top of my list. My job is to save the people so that they can rebuild when the time is right.

I wonder about the unintended consequences of valuing a marriage over the people who “inhabit” it. There are times when I believe we so value the marriage that we are willing to sacrifice its “inhabitants.”

What I am sure of is that a marriage without healthy “inhabitants” isn’t much of a marriage at all. It’s like a house that isn’t really a home.

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Every year I’m required to accumulate enough continuing education credits to maintain my license as a marriage and family therapist. The other day, in quest of a few more credits, I signed up for a brief online course on infidelity. I thought, “This is an issue that arises frequently among the couples I work with. I certainly have my own take on the problem but, let’s see what this professional has to say.”

Wow, was I disappointed!

It’s not that the information provided was inaccurate or in any way inappropriate. It was all objective and factual. The presenter identified a number of factors that make people susceptible to infidelity. He looked at the issue from both a micro and macro perspective.

What he didn’t do is make any meaningful reference to how infidelity lands on the heart of any of the parties involved. He was a researcher. Because the subjective experience of infidelity can’t be reliably measured by any of the instruments he used to do his research, he couldn’t address the anguish that often accompanies infidelity. It was a bit like a cancer researcher delving deeply into the actions of cancer cells without making any reference to the person who bears the burden of the diagnosis.

Certainly there’s a place for looking at infidelity objectively. Statistics, though often misleading, are important particularly when we are trying to get a sense for societal trends. Like the body count that comes after a natural disaster, they begin to make the event digestible to the public. But, they don’t come close to describing the life changing experience of losing a loved one or being betrayed.

When two people make a life commitment to each other they rightfully expect fidelity. But what, exactly, does that mean? Is it as shallow as… “We will not have sex with anyone outside our relationship.” For many, this is exactly what it means. For some it gets extended to… “We will not develop a romantic attachment to anyone outside our relationship.”

That’s all well and good. The problem is that in both cases the focus is on what SHOULDN’T happen. Nothing in those two cases tells us anything about what SHOULD happen. I’ve worked with many couples who have avoided sexual and emotional infidelity but who feel completely alone and even alienated in their marriage. Sometimes these couples describe their relationship as essentially parallel with only rare an intersections between the two of them.

Over the years of listening to couples describe their efforts to attain and maintain a quality relationship it’s become apparent to me that there’s a lot more to fidelity than what one does not do. If that’s the standard used to measure fidelity, it’s certainly a very low one.

Recently, the notion of co-regulation has gained some acceptance and I think it’s a great place to start defining the experience of fidelity. Co-regulation is:

Continuous unfolding of individual action that is susceptible to being continuously modified by the continuously changing actions of the partner. (Butler & Randall, 2013)

Just take a moment to let that soak in…

Continuous unfolding that’s susceptible to continuous modification by the continuous actions of a partner…

It feels an awful lot like a dance… like two people dancing WITH each other. Which is different from two people dancing in each other’s company. It feels like a tango.

Like dancing, fidelity is subject to ongoing learning and improvement. It’s never perfected. A couple is always becoming faithful. The experience of fidelity moves with the relationship. It changes with every stage of the life cycle. It looks one way at the beginning of a relationship and a different way when children are added or careers change or the effects of aging show up.

In the posts that follow I want to explore a broader, perhaps more useful, understanding of fidelity with the hope that couples can find the “aliveness” that comes with dancing.

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