Is every man a cheater?
I know there are loyal, faithful men in this world.
Men who set higher moral codes for themselves and worship the woman standing by their side. Men who would never dream of betraying someone they claim to love for 15 minutes of sexual pleasure. Men who, if they fell out of love or realized their relationship was no longer serving them, would have the courage to speak up and voice this instead of taking a vow of silence and resigning themselves to a life they no longer love. Men who have too much respect for their partner, and themselves, to deceive.
I know there are men like this in the world. Men I know, and men I know of. But I am starting to think that these men are the exception.
You might be fooled into thinking that it’s only the handsome, charming ones with the sun-kissed skin and chiseled-jaws and washboard abs who do the dirty.
But it’s not.
It’s the middle-aged men carrying rounded beer bellies. It’s the men who are losing more hair on their heads every day. The men who could do with a shower and a shave and a clean shirt that doesn’t have last night’s dinner stuck to it. The men who are not quite tall enough to match you in heels when you’re out together. The men who are more scrawny than muscular. The men who are clearly punching well above their weight. The men who are coasting in their 9-5 job and living paycheck to paycheck. The men with who you would not associate the word successful.
It’s the men who you settle for because you don’t believe you’re worth more. You feel a false sense of security that this guy will never break your heart; he’s safe.
But he does.
He does it while you’re at home looking after the kids, hoping he’s enjoying his night out with the lads.
He does it while you’re on a business trip in the city, eager to be reunited with him in two days’ time.
He does it while you’re on a rare weekend away with the girls, feeling guilty that you’re here indulging while he’s not.
You’re thinking about him.
But he’s not thinking about you.
He’s thinking about himself.
He’s thinking about how he hasn’t had sex in weeks. His poor dick. How lonely it has been and how he’d love to thrust it inside someone. Anyone. And that it would be so easy to get away with it too. She never has to know. She’ll never find out. No damage done.
So he removes his wedding ring, and with it, his vow to you.
He doesn’t mention you. Not once.
He’s fully open to wherever this night goes; he flows.
He lays down in a bed with a woman who isn’t you and gives himself permission to enjoy those minutes of ecstasy.
The sun rises, clothes are thrown back on, and he returns to you. Like nothing ever happened. Everything is the same.
She doesn’t need to know.
I have heard one too many stories of men like this. Scratch men; cowards like this. Deluded cowards who believe they are entitled to female attention, pleasure, and sex on tap.
Do you know someone like this?
Have you ever been cheated on?
Have you ever been witness to someone cheating but decided it’s not your business to get involved?
So you say nothing. You swallow the secret. No damage done. Except it’s already done.
A vow has been shattered.
A trust has been broken.
A love has been violated.
And we all deserve better than that.