For all this talk about infidelity and all the pain that cheating causes couples there is a strong implication in all the records going back hundreds of years that infidelity is a bit like an integral aspect of human’s DNA. Wherever it plays out there it is: in heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, multi-sexual relationships; marital, extramarital, arranged, open, monogamous relationships. All seem to have reported some kind of affairs, flings, arrangements, infidelities, double lives, extramarital and so on relationships most characterised by secrecy and broken trust, betrayal and hurt, fear and loathing. These characteristics, in many cases, lead to the breaking apart of the original relationship and much ongoing irretrievable loss of trust and faith in self and each other. Pain and anger, trauma and hurt, despair and often the establishment or exaggeration of low self-esteem.
Ironically, an affair or an arrangement or an infidelity or sexual indiscretion, although often seen as illicit, frequently becomes the most exciting thing a partner can embark upon in their “relationshipped” life. So exciting and inspiring that this action has inspired more novels and songs and operas and stories than most subjects in literature and The Daily Telegraph or The Daily Mirror. Probably because it inspires gossip and is illicit.
Hurt often arises and is compounded where one party of the triangle is unaware of the infidelity. A man living a suburban life with wife and two children, happy, to all accounts, embarks upon an affair with a secretary and all are happy. He has a sexual liaison that is exciting. The wife is living well, being cared for by her husband and made love to reasonably regularly. The lover is having the time of her life with the boss hoping she will get a promotion. Who is blaming or questioning or feeling anything other than happiness. Until the wife finds out. The classic is the husband giving the wife an iPad for Christmas. On Christmas morning he enters his email address in to get the iPad set up, hands it to his wife who sits watching all his emails loading revealing an affair he has been enjoying for the past three years; and then three years before that with another woman. This is an unhappy Christmas morning. Simply because it was a secret? Well partly the secret. Why does it have to be a secret?