Can you be in love and still cheat?
I’ve been thinking of Garrett lately.
Garrett, the guy I dated for a long time.
Garrett, the guy I thought I would marry.
Garrett, the guy I loved so much.
Garrett, the guy I cheated on.
I hadn’t thought of Garrett in a long time, but while watching the World Series (go Giants!) and seeing more of Ian Kinsler than I ever had before, I had an eerie feeling. Ian and Garrett look a lot alike — probably not anymore, of course, because Ian’s 28 and Garrett’s a middle-aged man now, maybe even a bald and fat middle-aged man for all I know.
But, back then? He was tall and hunky and sweet and had a gorgeous smile and he loved me and … and I was sleeping with him!! Know how many girls would have loved to have slept with him? Pretty much everyone in college.
So, why did I cheat on him?
How can you cheat on someone
you love? 
It’s a question I’ve pondered quite a bit since doing the nasty deed.
That I cheated is always something that surprises me, like I didn’t even know I
had it in me, like, “Really? I did what?”
Another thing that surprises me still is how easy it was to cheat. There weren’t any cell phones or sexting or a lot of other technie gee-gaws that have since tripped
up many a man (women, too, probably,
but we tend to hear about the high-profile men). No, all I had was a phone (at work),
a guy I wanted to sleep with (and, since he pursued me, obviously wanted to sleep
with me) and a plan.
I always had a plan; If Garrett gets suspicious, who could I say I was with? What could I say I was doing? Where could I say I was?
It worked for about a year, and that’s when I ended the affair. Because I wasn’t in love with my paramour (ever notice there’s no 100 percent accurate name for the male equivalent of mistress?); I was just in love with having sex with him. It was exciting and dirty and I knew I shouldn’t be doing it, but I found a lot of ways to justify it.
And I still loved Garrett. At least, it felt that way.
But by the time the affair ended, I had made myself feel so bad about myself — What a horrible girlfriend I am! Garrett deserves someone so much better! — that Garrett and I were over, too. He never found out (or, if he did, he never said anything to me or anyone else).
Did I really love him, then?
Can you cheat on someone you truly love?
Sure, you can lust after someone and fantasize about him and still come home at night and tell your partner you love him — and mean it — and then bang him like crazy. Is that cheating? I don’t think so, but a lot of people have some odd ideas about what “cheating” is.
But, if you act on that lust, knowing how much it would hurt him, knowing how it may irreparably damage your relationship (although some relationships can survive an affair, I suppose), knowing it could mean that he kisses your cheatin’ butt goodbye (and deservedly so!) … can you really, truly say you love him?
Unless, believing you’re not going to get caught means you’re not actually hurting him/her. Or, you think that it’s “just sex,” not “love” — whatever that means.
Now, I would never cheat on anyone ever again; although the thrill of an affair is undeniably intoxicating, the fallout is ugly and I just don’t want to be that kind of person anymore. Honesty and trust matter too much to me now; I want to give and receive that.
So, can you cheat on someone you truly love?
Have you?
photo © Andrius Grigaliunas – Fotolia.com
And, on a totally different note: I know it’s easy to get cynical, frustrated, angry and apathetic, but, people, your vote counts! Tomorrow’s Election Day. Please, vote as if your life depends on it, because it does!
She hit him so he must have deserved it
“You know,” Sara to me as watched taped snippets of the Masters on the bar TV, “I’m kinda regaining a certain respect for Tiger.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“No, actually not.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re buying the spin at his press conference or that calculated Nike ad, are you?”
“Of course not! I just like the fact that he’s never ratted on Elin.”
“Meaning?”
“He protected her.” 
“You mean he denies that she hit him?”
“Right.”
“And that’s good?”
“Well …”
“What if she denied he hit her? Would that
be good?”
Sara was silent.
But I know what most of us would say — no,
that wouldn’t be OK. We wouldn’t believe her, anyway. We know men hit women.
But is it OK if a woman hits a man?
I am not a violent woman, or so I believed And yet, when I first discovered Rob’s affair, I absolutely lost it — just like I imagine Elin did. And I hit him. Not hard because, honestly, I didn’t even have the strength, I was crying so hard. But I wanted to hurt him — just like he’d hurt me.
It was the first — and last — time I hit a man, but it still scares the crap out of me to think I was able to do that. It was a “crime of passion” as so many relationship crimes are. Sadly, there’s often a gun in the house, too, and we all know where that leads. Still, I make no excuses for it; I did it, I have to live with it, I have learned from it.
But as a society we seem to be much more OK with a woman hitting a man than a man hitting a woman — why?
And why does it seem noble that a man would protect a woman, as Tiger supposedly is protecting Elin? Many men don’t want to admit that they’ve been abused; after all, they’re supposed to be the stronger sex. What would it feel like to admit that you’d been smacked by your 5-foot-2, 100-pound sweetie? That’s why many men don’t talk about it. That’s why you don’t see fundraisers for abused men shelters. But it doesn’t make it any less real.
If we’re seeking equality between the sexes, then abuse should be treated equally, no matter which sex is the one doing the hurting. A man protecting a woman wouldn’t be seen as a good thing, and we wouldn’t think, as most of us do, that a woman abusing a man means he somehow deserved it.
- Have you ever hit your partner?
- Have you ever been hit?
- Do you react differently if you see a woman abusing a man than the other way around?
More ramblings on abuse:
Confession: good for the soul and your career
“What would you do about Jesse?” Mia asked me as she, Sara and and I biked our way around the Headlands one last time before it was closed off for road work.
“You mean if I were Sandra?”
“No, I mean if you’d slept with him.”
“What are you getting at?” Sara asked, sounding slightly annoyed.
“Would you go to E! or TMZ and come out?”
“Oh, you mean kiss and tell? Absolutely not! I don’t know
why women do that,” I said. 
“Kat, you’re so naive. Can’t you figure it out?” Sara snapped.
I hate to sound naive, but, no I couldn’t quite grasp it. Let’s
see — I screw a married guy and then I’m going to blab
my story all over the news? Why? If anything, I’d want to lay really low. I mean, the last thing I’d want is for my mom and
dad — not to mention their neighbors, book club ladies and poker pals — to see me on the cover of People with this headline: “Woman No. 3: I made a mistake with Jesse.”
Sure, confession is good for the soul — but in public? I’d be
so embarrassed.
Does no one else feel like that anymore?
It’s no surprise that ex-wives of philanderers might want
to cash in on their misfortune, like Nicolas Sarkozy’s (most recent) ex and Dina Matos McGreevey. I guess that’s one way to set aside some college money for the kiddies.
But, really, you don’t even have to go through all the
hassle of getting married to get a book deal or modeling contract — you just have to sleep with a high-profile guy once or twice (or save the dress with the stain) and you’ll be a media darling for your 15 minutes. And, pocket a few thou to ease your heartbreak.
Why didn’t I think of that?
Here I’ve been, sleeping with guys for years and feeling pretty damn lucky if I got a glass of red wine, a shared plate of fried calamari and an orgasm out of it. I just didn’t see that it might a smart career move.
And it’s more than just that — it’s power. It’s a woman using her beauty, sexuality and charm to fell a man. Who says women can’t be as manipulative as guys?
I used to think that the rabbit scene in “Fatal Attraction” was a wake-up call for cheaters; now that seems almost refreshingly innocent compared with what happens if one of your babes decides to open her mouth. And, Glenn Close’s character didn’t get anything out of it, either — well, except death. If the movie came out now, she’d have an eight-page spread in Playboy.
And how come you don’t hear from any men who’ve been providing stud service (well, except for other men)? Still, I live in constant fear that one day I’ll turn on E! and see some hottie talking about his wild fling with a certain cartoon blogger …
None of this gets the cheaters off the hook; maybe this public confessional is just what they deserve.
But our obsession with fame at any cost, talent be damned — and what people are willing to do for it — makes me feel sad. On the other hand, I just may have discovered a fall-back plan if I ever get laid off …
- Has kissing and telling gone too far?
- Or, do you feel that if everyone else is doing it, why not?
- Guys, does this make you nervous?
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