SurvivingInfidelity.com^®

Note: I’ve spent the last couple of weeks writing and rewriting this. It ended up reading a bit more like a blog post than I originally intended, but hopefully there’s still some value in here for anyone navigating this stuff.

I’ll start by admitting this is merely my interpretation of a cinematic adaptation of Sense and Sensibility. As a rule, I tend to avoid costume dramas and the works of Jane Austen entirely. I haven’t read the books, nor have I voluntarily sat through any of the myriad screen adaptations churned out over the decades. So why on earth did I watch it, you might reasonably ask?

My wife and I recently eloped to Edinburgh. The day after the ceremony, we were nursing what was, without hyperbole, the single worst hangover of our collective lives. We had spent the wedding day on the receiving end of endless free drinks, courtesy of enthusiastic well-wishers. I always knew Edinburgh attracted plenty of tourists, but the sheer generosity of Americans upon spotting a newly wed bride and groom was genuinely unmatched.

Desperate for a quiet recovery, we decided to visit The Scotsman Picturehouse, tucked away deep beneath The Scotsman Hotel. It is an absolute gem of a boutique cinema if you ever find yourself in the city. However, when you pitch up to a luxury 48-seat screening room with a very boutique timetable, your cinematic fate is strictly at the mercy of the schedule. Ours led us straight into the arms of 19th-century etiquette and bonnet drama. To make matters worse, the cinema staff kindly served us a couple of complimentary bottles of prosecco to celebrate. Attempting to force down warm fizz while our stomachs were actively launching a military coup against the previous night's American-funded bar tab was a heroic effort, to say the least.

Yet, as I sat there battling mild alcohol poisoning in a velvet armchair, what struck me most about this adaptation was its heavy thematic focus on honour as the single highest currency in a partner. It got me thinking quite a bit about a message I frequently find myself preaching on here: the absolute necessity of fixing your picker.

I suspect many of us, particularly when stumbling into relationships in our youth (but certainly not limited to), aren’t paying a blind bit of attention to morality, boundaries, or basic integrity when choosing a partner. Instead, we chase chemistry, physical compatibility, surface charm, and how entertaining someone is on a Friday night. I fell into that exact trap for years. I was perpetually drawn to alternative women, fixating entirely on shallow aesthetic markers: their taste in music, how they dressed, and just how wonderfully chaotic or wild they were. Back then, if a woman listened to Radiohead, quoted Sartre, and professed a deep love for the deeply unsettling works of Yorgos Lanthimos, I was practically ready to hand over my life savings and line up for the inevitable emotional wreckage. I mistakenly thought a shared obsession with existential dread and surreal cinema was the ultimate proxy for actual human depth.

Instead, I eventually learned the hard way that chasing an aesthetic thrill—no matter how artsy, edgy, or intellectually captivating—is a fantastic recipe for finding short-term amusement, and a catastrophic recipe for finding a life partner. U-turning away from that mindset was easily the best decision I ever made, second only to breaking lockdown rules to invite my now-wife out for a walk.

Watching Sense and Sensibility through that specific lens made the central conflict hit surprisingly close to home, especially given the wreckage we dissect on forums like this every single day. The story drives the point home by contrasting two sisters and their rather dodgy romantic options.

First, you have the main dilemma involving the elder sister, Elinor Dashwood, and Edward Ferrars. Elinor is head over heels for Edward, only to discover he is secretly engaged to someone else. Edward eventually confesses that this prior commitment was made out of a misplaced sense of pity and duty to a family in dire straits. Despite his own utter misery and a desperate desire to be free of it, Edward refuses to break his word because he considers himself bound by honour. When Elinor finds out, her sister Marianne is completely baffled by her restraint, essentially arguing: If he loves you, and you want to be together, why on earth are you walking away? Elinor’s logic relies entirely on character. It is precisely because Edward is the sort of stubborn idiot who will honour a promise at immense personal cost that she respects and loves him. She values his moral integrity far above a convenient, easy shortcut to happiness.

If that lesson feels a bit subtle, Marianne’s own arc hits you over the head with a heavy frying pan. Marianne initially falls head over heels for John Willoughby, a dashing young rogue who is passionate, charming, loves a dance, and seems tailor-made for a high-drama romance. Naturally, he turns out to be entirely spineless, dumping her the second his inheritance is threatened when a bit of real-world adversity hits. Meanwhile, brooding in the corner is Colonel Brandon, a quiet, solemn soldier. To be entirely fair to Marianne, the man never cracks a smile, dresses like an undertaker, and looks like absolute anti-banter at a house party. You can completely sympathise with her writing him off in favour of the exciting rogue. But once Willoughby’s total lack of integrity is exposed, Marianne finally sees Brandon’s quiet, unwavering honour for what it actually is, and gives him a chance.

The film lands on a fairly blunt thesis: charisma, aesthetic appeal, and passion are entirely hollow without underlying character. And if that doesn’t sound like a post-infidelity wake-up call, I don't know what does.

So many of the relationship breakdowns we look at on these forums trace right back to the initial selection process. When you choose a partner based purely on butterflies, excitement, or how well they fit an aesthetic fantasy, you are completely bypassing the metrics that actually matter when life gets heavy: integrity, impulse control, emotional resilience, and a bedrock commitment to honour. If someone’s foundational character is built on sand, the first time they encounter an ego stroke, a rough patch, or a bit of workplace temptation, they fold like a cheap deckchair. They don't have the internal architecture to stay loyal because they were never chosen—or choosing—based on character in the first place.

Now, I want to be crystal clear here: This is not victim blaming. No matter wether your picker needs fixed, it's not your fault they cheated! I am also well aware that not all cases of infidelity fit neatly into the "faulty picker" box. Many people on these forums picked their partner for all the right reasons. You evaluated their character, watched how they treated people, and chose them precisely because they demonstrated outstanding morals, solid principles, and genuine integrity over years or even decades. You didn't fall for a charming rogue; you chose someone who genuinely seemed to have a rock-solid foundation.

The harsh reality is that people can change. Life events, personal crises, severe burnout, or mental breakdowns can cause someone to drift dramatically, temporarily disaligning their actions from the very morality they once held dear. In those tragic instances, I honestly doubt there is anything a betrayed partner could have done to mitigate or predict the betrayal. Even if you are exceptionally sharp, picking up on those subtle internal shifts before the line is crossed is nearly impossible, and I remain deeply skeptical that anyone can fully guard against a fundamental shift in their partner's psychological state.

Crucially, acknowledging that someone suffered a crisis, cheated, and subsequently restored their principles doesn't make their actions inherently forgivable either. A midlife crisis or psychological spiral explains a choice, but it doesn't excuse it. As we know all too well on these forums, countless people walk through the absolute darkest valleys of life, grief, and crisis, and never choose to betray their partner. Integrity isn't tested when things are smooth sailing; it's defined by what you do when the ship hits an iceberg.

Granted, in the real world, you would hope you don't have to settle for the bleak Austen choice between an exciting cad and a deeply honourable man who acts like a wet weekend. Ideally, you want to fix your picker so you end up with someone who is passionate, hilarious, and fundamentally good to their core. I did a lot of work refining my picker between being betrayed and finding my wife. A few failed relationships and many causal acquaintances acted as the unfortunate catalyst for this development. But fun was had along the way and it's lead me to someone who I think ticks all the boxes.

Character isn't just a nice-to-have bonus feature once the initial spark settles down. It's the whole ballgame. Society seems to have devalued honour. Id say bring it back

Move it to the top the list. While fixing your picker can't guarantee 100% immunity against someone fundamentally unravelling years down the line, prioritizing the quiet architecture of integrity remains the single best line of defense we have.

[This message edited by DRSOOLERS at 1:48 PM, Sunday, October 25th]

I usually look at dogs on Instagram, however today I listened to a woman whose message was spot on.
We don’t just marry our spouse. We marry every single person that had an impact on them from birth. Every rule, every argument, school, etc.
As a social worker whose clientele was making poor choices I had to explain to foster parents what to expect. They had brought their own family histories into their relationships. Not only that they had then made a new family with entangled rules. Into that home comes a kid with a pretty distorted idea of behaviors and then try to figure out how to navigate their new but, hopefully, temporary home.
So marriage can be a crap shoot. You had better have the same sense of humor, the same moral structure, the same hopes and plans for the future but reality is going to hit at some point. My family NEVER used sarcasm. My husband used it all the time. It has taken me years to get him to stop. It is aggression disguised as humor. Don’t know where he got it because his parents are sweet people.
He cheated. I did not confront until years later. I am sure alcohol, traveling and a good time were the catalysts. I have never wanted to cheat. The only people I know who did wanted out of a bad marriage. When asked why they didn’t just leave all of them said they did not know how unhappy they were until they met another person. I guess you get mired down in the grind until very little daylight shows. Then a miracle occurs. Only two stayed w their affair partners.
We all think we are so mature. I beg to differ.

Congratulations on your M. I wish you the best.

If you're going to get drunk, I can't think of a better place than Edinburgh, except, perhaps, Islay.

Looks like you solved the problem of taking money from your father. Let him buy you a couple of good English bicycles so you and your new W can cycle through the lake district....

*****

I avoided Austen until the 'Masterpiece Theater' broadcasts of the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. It got me to read the book. That version wasn't absolutely perfect, but it was close. It got me to read the rest of her novels, all of which are stil waiting for a good translation to video.

I've been especially unhappy with the translations of Sense and Sensibility, and your comments make me fear this new one is lacking, too.

You really need to read the book.

*****

Instead, we chase chemistry, physical compatibility, surface charm, and how entertaining someone is on a Friday night. The girl I dated on and off when I was 15-16 had a fantastic, fully adult, truly voluptuous body. Think the young Sophia Loren. She wasn't very nice, though. IDK ... youngsters of all genders need time to mature physically and emotionally. So by the time I was 16, I knew enough to look deeper than outward form. I never thought I was uncommon in that regard.

Don't get me wrong. Outward form could spark interest, but for me, by the time I was 18, conversation was more powerful than looks. I just wasn't going to commit much of myself on the basis of a spark alone.

So many of the relationship breakdowns we look at on these forums trace right back to the initial selection process. When you choose a partner based purely on butterflies, excitement, or how well they fit an aesthetic fantasy, you are completely bypassing the metrics that actually matter when life gets heavy: integrity, impulse control, emotional resilience, and a bedrock commitment to honour.

Once again, I have little doubt that strong glutes and, for men, good lungs attract attention, but by late teens, don't most people know there's more to life than limerence? I mean limerence is part of what makes 2 people a couple, but don't the vast majority of human beings know that's not enough to sustain a relationship?

My bet is that most of us have a pretty healthy selection process - and zero ability to predict the future.

I don't see many SIers demonstrating that they ignored character. Rather, they express shock that the person they thought was honest and humane broke character. Most BSes here say the A(s) seem so out of character.

The harsh reality is that people can change.

Exactly. I know you (and others) assume character is defined by a person's worst behavior. But perhaps most of us are people of character until they weren't.

IMO, the vast majority of us break down because of a combination of pressures, not because we're evil. That is, we all can do evil; we all can do good. We're (virtually) all some combo of our worst, our best, and our in between.

Granted, in the real world, you would hope you don't have to settle for the bleak Austen choice between an exciting cad and a deeply honourable man who acts like a wet weekend.

IDK if this is your preconceptions talking or just a bad interpretation of the book. Read the book. You may find you've misinterpreted the character.

Ideally, you want to fix your picker so you end up with someone who is passionate, hilarious, and fundamentally good to their core.

I think one of Austen's best abilities is to describe real people with accuracy. A few are caricatures, but I see her making successful attempts to show us that people aren't on thing or another. Everybody is sympathetic, except those who represent rigid convention, and even most of them seem to have aspects that aren't totally awful (Senior moment - I can't think of the names right now). I think one of her points is that there's something in all of her characters that are part of us.

Character isn't just a nice-to-have bonus feature once the initial spark settles down. It's the whole ballgame. Society seems to have devalued honour. Id say bring it back

I read of an experiment in a college psych class some years ago:

At the start of the class, the students were asked to rank the desirability of their classmates. They were then separated into teams to complete a weeks-long project. After the project was completed, the students were again surveyed about their classmates' desirability.

The researchers concluded that the 1st survey, done when the students presumably knew little about each other, got answers based on looks - desirability was based on what the researchers thought were the best looking class members.

But the 2nd survey was based exactly on character, as much as character could be determined on the basis of of a project that lasted weeks. That is, the researchers concluded the people who were the best teammates moved way up in terms of desirability.

Maybe my optimism isn't misplaced.

It got me thinking quite a bit about a message I frequently find myself preaching on here: the absolute necessity of fixing your picker.

Oh... the irony!

I've given you a lot of grief over the last year for reasons I'd imagine you're well aware (although I suspect you've dismissed most of it out of indignation). While this post was well written and insightful, the irony has had me laughing out loud for quite a while.

For someone who - or so you claim - has analyzed hundreds (or was it thousands?) of cases, I find it hard to believe you’ve missed that a good many betrayed spouses contemplate this very notion. I couldn't possibly remember how often members here have discussed or questioned their broken picker, even if in different ways or words.

You’re preaching to the choir, which is only a part of the irony.

Most of the members here are are older, wiser and more experienced than you. A good percentage will offer the gift of reconciliation for all sorts of reasons, good and bad. The lesson you seek to impart is a little too late. It would certainly benefit a much younger crowd, which, for me, only adds to the irony.

There's an underlying theme here that is also very dismissive. While I cannot speak to accurate statistics, a respectful number of couples have successfully reconciled and are quite happy with their picker. I know you find that difficult to accept. In that regard, your assertion is insulting.

It's easy enough for any potential partner to talk about (and often genuinely believe) where their morals lie and what their character consists of, even very emphatically... Many times their behavior fails to align with their values and morals. "Character" is not something stagnant and unchanging. Rather, I think everybody's is changing all the time, for better or for worse. I can understand why that would seem scary for... particularly categorical thinkers, or for those who need a very steady sense of identity for themselves and in others in their lives.

Do you mind if I ask how old you are, DRSOOLERS? (mentally I have you as late 30s to mid 40s, but I want to correct that mental model if it's inaccurate. Forgive me if you've already told me in the past.)

And big congratulations on your marriage! Happy for you

[This message edited by GotTheMorbs at 2:29 AM, Monday, October 26th]

Sisoon

Much appreciated, many thanks for the kind wishes.

Looks like you solved the problem of taking money from your father. Let him buy you a couple of good English bicycles so you and your new W can cycle through the lake district....

I think I stand by my choice not to engage with him further. We didn't need the money, and truthfully, I can't imagine how it would have improved the day. We both agree it was perfect—for what we wanted anyway. We might have managed an extra day at the fancy hotel, further activities, or maybe paid for guests' drinks all day, but it simply wasn't worth the uneasy feeling that accepting it would have given me.

If he offered to pay to remodel my bathroom, perhaps the scale would pivot. That won't happen, though.

Don't get me wrong. Outward form could spark interest, but for me, by the time I was 18, conversation was more powerful than looks. I just wasn't going to commit much of myself on the basis of a spark alone

Oh, I agree. I did worry that I hadn't quite outlined this fully. I think most people do indeed grow out of a looks-only approach fairly early in life, quickly moving on to look for comparable personalities. I did this too, but it wasn't nearly enough.

I view relationship development in tiers. First, you're attracted by looks—most people develop out of that. Next is personality: aligned interests, how you interact, and so on. I'd suggest fewer people develop out of that stage. We see posts all the time from people with serial cheats who suggest that if they just cut out the cheating, their partner would be "the perfect partner." That's because they're talking about personality, not character. After that comes general disposition: are they nice, do they seem caring, and so on.

What I'm talking about is the next tier up: how honourable are they? What is their core makeup? What precisely are their morals, and how strictly do they adhere to them? I'm unconvinced this level of scrutiny is the norm.

I don't see many SIers demonstrating that they ignored character. Rather, they express shock that the person they thought was honest and humane broke character. Most BSes here say the A(s) seem so out of character.

Ok, so I actually have no framework for determining this. What I do see in SI are many cases of long-standing relationships that generally started at a fairly young age—say, university age. I'm simply not sure how many people were interrogating moral attachment at that stage. This is all speculation, but I'd suppose not as many as you might think.

Firstly, it's difficult to interrogate someone's character. At a young age, you can't necessarily dig through a track record; they haven't had the experiences that might lead to the cracks you're looking for. It requires a succession of carefully watching out for red flags over a long period of time, having hypothetical discussions, and observing reactions to characters' actions in books, TV shows, and current affairs. It also requires constant vigilance while not getting swept up in all the other amazing features ticking the boxes for mere compatibility. Perhaps by the time someone starts considering such things they are many years down the line at which point, disengaging would cause a lot of fallout. I don't know.

I do agree shock is the prevailing emotion upon betrayal—it was for me too. However, that doesn't mean I didn't need to adjust my picker. I did; it just took time for me to see it. But because I hadn't put that framework in place, I was going off my seven years of experience with them. What they did juxtaposed against those seven years made it seem "out of character", but when you dug deeper, it wasn't. There were red flags—so many that if I had employed this tactic, I would either not have got as far in the relationship as I did, or I wouldn't have been nearly as shocked as I was.

IMO, the vast majority of us break down because of a combination of pressures, not because we're evil.

Again, I can't stress enough that I don't think these questions are definitively answerable, so I'm not suggesting you're wrong, but I don't see it as you do. Yes, some people break down due to pressures, and it takes a hell of a lot of waves to break a barrier. But others fold like cheap lawn furniture in the wind. Others never break down at all. That is character. What defines that resistance? Why does only one person cheat in a dysfunctional relationship while the other does not? That is the honour I'm advocating for.

IDK if this is your preconceptions talking or just a bad interpretation of the book. Read the book. You may find you've misinterpreted the character.

It must be the adaptation, then. It really paints things in black and white. In the film, the colonel never cracks a smile and looks entirely incapable of doing so. They define him as a good and moral man, but it would be an understatement to say he looked like a barrel of laughs.

Maybe my optimism isn't misplaced.

Maybe not, but I'd suggest what you're defining here as character is merely personality. I have been attracted to people purely through personality, and that's not what I'm talking about. Take my most recent ex—not a long relationship, probably under a year. Looks-wise, she wasn't my typical match, which was quite deliberate; I knew I needed to change my dating patterns, so I opened myself up a bit more than usual.

Now, she was great in many ways. Her personality was good. But I couldn't shake the red flags. The red flags weren't her personality. Not even necessarily here traits. They were red flags of this deeper level I'm attempting to define. For that reason, I never fully let her in—a shame for both of us, but ultimately the right call.

What were these red flags? She had very low self-esteem; often we went out, she accused me of staring at other women when I simply wasn't. She kept the messy ending of her previous long-term relationship sheepish and vague. She had been intensely prolific between that relationship and us meeting. Now, I don't have an issue with that when someone is single, but specifically when it's for validation rather than genuine fun, it's telling. I got the impression she was seeking external sources for her self-worth.

Finally, the two bigger ones: she was incredibly guarded over her phone, and once mentioned she was in contact with a former friends-with-benefits who had fallen on hard times, claiming she was just giving advice (which made sense given her career). When I said I wasn't sure how that made me feel, she suggested I could look at the chat, but added she wouldn't want a relationship that entailed reading each other's phones. I turned down the option. Then, after an argument and subsequent make-up, she told me that during the intervening day of frostiness, she had downloaded a dating app. We hadn't broken up, but even supposing we had, downloading a dating app within 24 hours seems decidedly unhealthy.

Now, this is an extreme example—lots of red flags in a relatively short period—but I'd wager they often aren't as obvious as this. Stepping back from all of it: her personality was great. She was funny, caring, loving, incredibly complimentary. Sex life was great and very specifically aligned in an area I enjoy. But she didn't have the moral attachments.

@unhinged

For someone who - or so you claim - has analyzed hundreds (or was it thousands?) of cases, I find it hard to believe you’ve missed that a good many betrayed spouses contemplate this very notion. I couldn't possibly remember how often members here have discussed or questioned their broken picker, even if in different ways or words.

I haven't missed this. Not sure why you're suggesting otherwise. At no point did I declare this revolutionary thinking; I'm simply clarifying some thoughts I've had on the topic that could well be useful to someone else.

If I had to cite a USP for want of a better term, I'd say the spin on this take is the push to examine honour as a distinct trait. But hey, I kind of outlined all of that already. Perhaps I haven't read many accounts where betrayed spouses specifically examine honour, but I could be wrong.

Most of the members here are are older, wiser and more experienced than you.

Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.

I will grant you that many members are wiser than me, but I personally don't see a direct link with age. I've met plenty of old clowns in my life, and the wisest person I ever met was younger than me. But to put this more succinctly in the great words of Mr. Lebowski:

"Yeah, well, that's just, like, your opinion, man."

a respectful number of couples have successfully reconciled and are quite happy with their picker.

The vast majority of people I've spoken with—though admittedly not all—deeply wish they hadn't encountered infidelity. I'm suggesting that often, but not always, the very reason they encountered infidelity is because they hadn't examined their partner's moral attachments, meaning that when the right stressors arrived, they ended up with a cheater. I'm saying their picker and their experiences are frequently, though not exclusively, linked. Unless they're with a partner who had a momentary lapse due to deep trauma or some other psychological break, I'm arguing that their picker and the fact they ended up with a cheater are connected. So saying you're happy with your picker while wishing you hadn't been cheated on often doesn't add up.

In that regard, your assertion is insulting

Hah! Genuinely almost fell off my chair here. It's like clockwork. I was wondering when your trademark moral outrage would surface—I almost made it through the whole post without it being tagged on at the end.

It would take some serious effort to genuinely be offended by this post, but congratulations on finding a way to twist it in your own head anyway. Won't someone please think of the children!

Honestly though, I am flattered by your devotion to my posts and responses. I have previously suggested we don't appear to interact well and perhaps shouldn't, but what can I say? You simply can't help yourself. Look, now I'm blushing.

@Morbs

"Character" is not something stagnant and unchanging.

Whilst I agree, I don't believe one's honour or attachment to morals is quite as temperamental as all that. They shouldn't be the weather, temporally changing on a whim. Can someone be a good person and slowly have life beat them down into being a bad person? Yes, but I have no gauge to say how often that is actually the case. Furthermore, I can see trauma or a major event triggering a brief lapse—and yes, I agree you can't account for that—but generally speaking, I still think doing the legwork beforehand can help determine if people are truly morally aligned.

Basically, my post is suggesting that I'm simply not sure how many people consider honour when committing to a partner, and that it should be more prevalent—much like it was in Jane Austen's day.

Pretty accurate, though I'd say mid-30s.

Thanks for congratulations, hope you are happy and well too.

[This message edited by DRSOOLERS at 10:02 AM, Monday, October 26th]