So, a group of us were sitting around the other day, eating pizza and talking about stuff, and a question came up, "What happens when two people have an affair and fall in love with each other, even though each one is already married to somebody else? Can they ever be secure with each other? After all, each one knows that the other has been unfaithful in the past; each one knows that the other has lied to a spouse in order to spend time with a lover. Now that they have found each other and are swooning with passion over each other, can they trust in each other's fidelity? And, if not, does that blight their romance forever?"
It's an excellent question.
For my part, I answered with a cautious and qualified Yes. "Cautious and qualified" because of course it's not as easy as innocent trust. Once you've had the experience to know better, you know there is always room for a question. But I don't think that means you have to give up on trust. It may mean a subtle shift in the definition of the word "trust" however.
What I said to my friends at the time wasn't very well fleshed out, but I was thinking more or less as follows.
Once you have had an affair, you know from the inside that the whole question of sexual fidelity isn't as easy or as clear-cut as people like to make it. It just isn't. And you also know, deep down, that it's not just because your spouse is a rotten human being and you have finally, by miraculous chance, found somebody better. That might or might not be true -- I mean, your spouse might in fact be rotten, or on the other hand might have many fine qualities. But either way, infidelity is somehow about more than that.
But if infidelity isn't always about escaping from somebody rotten, then what are you supposed to think about your partner, or your partner about you? I mean, as long as you can pretend that it is all about getting away from an ogre at home, your partner can relax. Sweetheart, I know I'll never have to worry about you going behind my back, because as long as I'm not an ogre like your spouse you'll have no desire to. Right? But of course that's too easy. So what then?
Naturally when the endorphins first hit, I risk getting swept away by True Love again, wanting to bond with my new partner, wanting to make everything perfect. That's as it should be. And because sex is like that -- don't ask me why but it just is -- that first rush of True Love makes me want there to be nobody else in the world for her (or him, as the case may be). I want to be the center of her world. And so it is easy to find myself feeling that "making everything perfect" has to include my partner not fucking anyone else besides me. (Never mind that this might not make a lot of sense if I and my partner are both still married to other people. Emotions don't have to be logical.)
But at the same time I also know from introspection -- better than a strictly faithful spouse might -- that it is really, really tough to get an A+ on this kind of exam. If it were easy, I wouldn't be having an affair in the first place, right? And it doesn't take long for me to figure out that if I find it tough to get an A+ on this exam, then she might find it just as tough.
The answer, I think, is that while I may expect and crave both love and honesty from my new partner, and she from me, we also have to cut each other a little slack. To demand perfect fidelity from our new loves now runs the risk of being unrealistic. And likewise if they demand it from us. This does not mean that we give up wanting it. Nor that we give up striving for it. But we have to be tolerant of failure to meet it. That means being willing to separate the statement "You fucked someone else" from "You don't love me."
Worse yet, I'm not just talking about our histories in the past. I'm not just talking about the sex we had with that partner back before we knew that it was True Love At Last with this one. Because despite all our best intentions (today's best intentions), something might happen tomorrow. We all know it can. I'm not saying we should give up and not even try. I'm not saying that libertinism is the only answer -- not at all. Not libertinism, but patience and tolerance.
Oh, ... I talked about redefining the word "trust". I think the important part there is to be able to trust that your partner still loves you unabated. If you have that trust, then the details may be a little less important.
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So far pure theory. In fact, I've had a couple of these discussions with D. Now, D does not treat sex casually, any more than she treats air and water casually. Back when she was still talking to Wife on a daily basis, Wife would sometimes complain about our (lack of) sex life and wonder if I were seeing somebody on the side. And D and I would chuckle over Wife saying casually, "Of course I wouldn't mind if he did" ... partly because we both know that self-knowledge has never been Wife's strong suit, and partly because D's comment on that was always, "Darling, I will never be that generous. I want you all to myself." This meant, among other things, that D was very, very upset about the few times that Wife and I did actually fuck (see, e.g., here). I finally had to say very plainly that I wouldn't rule out sex with Wife so long as we were married, but it didn't mean at all that I don't love D. [That was then, this is now: I can no longer imagine sex with Wife under any circumstances whatever.]
D for her part has done everything possible to persuade me that I am now her one and only. What is interesting is that I haven't asked. OK, I realize she's not fucking her husband ... if they still had a satisfying sex life, she would never have fallen for me in the first place. (Or not the same way.) But she has made a point of reassuring me that, even though she and I see each other so rarely, she's not seeing anybody else either ... even though she could. And I guess my opinion here, in line with some of my theoretical musings above, is that it's nice to know but I am not very worried. I know that she loves me -- that much is palpable. If she were fucking somebody else too, it certainly hasn't diminished the passion in our relationship one whit. And so I refuse to worry about things over which I have no control and that don't affect me.
Don't get the idea, by the way, that I must be fretting or I wouldn't post about the subject. Mostly I was thinking about this discussion I mentioned above. But I realized that it is a real-life question, too, because it is one that has come up ... so I figured I'd add in my discussions with D purely as an example.
It really was a good question.
It *is* a good question.
ReplyDeleteI wonder about this a great deal, actually. Sadly, I do not have an answer. I think we can trust (not blindly, mind you) but must always have a sense of reality. I blindly trusted that my marriage was "forever," and that I would never want another man. Hmmm, well, that didnt' work out.....
Simply put, I take it one day at a time, and hope for the best.
CW
Your illustrative painting (Le déjeuner sur l'herbe by Manet) is interesting, Hosea. The hooplah that it caused at the time was that the women were naked but the men were not. Was it some kind of weird sex thing or was it redefining pastoral tradition? Anyway, the symbolism is interesting. I once did a version of it as if the figures were being observed from a great distance away.
ReplyDeleteYour answer of a "cautious and qualified yes" feels right to me. It also depends on the circumstances of the adultery. I would weigh the context of how many affairs (e.g. does it seem to be a chronic thing?) and what I could surmise of the motivation and psychology for having them. And then I might just go with my gut.
Like D., I feel a secret sort of sick possessiveness and don't want my paramour to sleep with anyone else *including* his wife. This is an emotional reaction over a logical one.
And like Wife, I've thought the same thing about my husband and how I wouldn’t mind if he were having sex with someone else, which is a logical reaction over an emotional one.
I recall some saying, I can't put my finger on who said it, about one's ability to trust is limited to how capable one is of doing the acts in suspicion. For example, if I can see myself stealing money from my child's piggy bank, I would assume my child is capable of taking money from my wallet.
Maybe it's that Groucho Marx quote about not wanting to belong to any club that would have him as a member.
As always, Hosea, your analysis is very thought-provoking.
No, I don’t think it is possible to ever trust the other. But more importantly, I don’t think it is ever possible again to trust yourself.
ReplyDeleteMy situation was different in that I never was in love with my lover. (Sort of an ironic play on the words). I just had some pathological lust for the man. I never trusted him in the first place, so I never worried about trust between us. I always knew he was a womanizer and a liar. And yeah, shame on me for tolerating that behavior.
The thing that bothers me the most is the revelation that I am not a trusting person. As I was a good Christian girl and was a virgin when I married, I gain some perverse pleasure in scorning other people’s failures. I always thought – What trash! That could never happen to me!
I have a loving husband and wonderful kids. And yet I betrayed that trust in more ways that I thought possible. When having an affair your whole life quickly becomes based on lies.
I am in recovery from an affair, but I no longer trust myself. And that is the most painful trust to lose.
CW -- I think you and I are on the same page here.
ReplyDeleteL -- Yes, there is certainly a point at which you have no choice but to go with your gut. As for whether the emotional or the logical reaction wins, ... well after living through so many years of Wife's infidelities, I think my emotional reaction has kind of burnt out. But that's just me.
Amy -- Hmmm, an interesting spin on the question. A couple of thoughts pop to mind.
One is that my "girlfriend" D -- you will read a lot about her here -- is going through much of the same self-examination you describe. She has said she thinks it possible that one thing she can get out of our affair is more sympathy for people who find themselves tangled in sin. For many years she had a part-time job at her church in addition to her regular work -- she was a recognized and well-respected member of the church community. She gave up that job when she committed herself to the affair with me, because honestly she couldn't reconcile the one with the other. But, as I say, she feels that perhaps in some way she is being challenged to have less self-righteousness and more sympathy. And that is a good thing.
Second, on trusting yourself, ... there is an essay that says perfectly what I want to say on this. If it were in the public domain I would post it here. As it is, I'll refer you to the nearest library. The essay is titled "On Self-Respect" and it is by Joan Didion. It was originally published in her book Slouching Towards Bethlehem but perhaps it has since been reprinted other places as well.
Hosea,
ReplyDeleteI admire D’s integrity to give up her church position. I can understand that angst that she must go through. I had to make a similar decision when I decided to go back teaching full time at the Christian School.
One on the reasons I gave up my affair was that I could not teach the girls in my school the importance of modesty and chastity while I was in the midst of an adulterous affair.
I don’t think adultery and Christianity are compatible. I remember what God said in that it is better to be either hot or cold, but not lukewarm. I am currently in a struggle with my faith. So I am not sure if my final decision will be hot or cold. But I want to avoid straddling the fence.