This question has troubled me a lot in the last few years. At one point I had a number of internet relationships in a row. I believed I was looking for someone who would help me gain something important that was missing in my marriage. I thought that if I could get this thing (whatever it was), then I could save my marriage. I needed it very badly, and I didn’t want a divorce and I didn’t think I could ever get it from my wife.
So I had a number of virtual relationships, and they were very, very intense. I believed I was in love. I believed I was loved. I believed that if circumstances were different, we would be together (most of these women had husbands and children, too—it made me feel more comfortable; that neither of us would become a problem for the other’s family).
Now, it turned out that there was something else going on in my brain at this time. A brain chemistry problem that had a number of effects on people. One of those effects is a very expanded need for lover and/or sex.
So, once I was diagnosed, and found this out, it seemed like these relationships were just fantasies—perhaps a safer way to get whatever I got out of them than it would have been had I gone to bars and slept with real women. Later on, I struggled with this. What did these relationships mean? Were they real? Or were they primarily relationships with myself? I.e, over the internet, I know almost nothing except for a few words about someone else. Out of those words, and maybe a picture or two, I spin these elaborate fantasies about me and this other person. But the other person exists pretty much completely in my mind.
Even if you get more information—hear their voice; see them in video—it’s still largely fantasy. This made me question real life relationships, too. How much of what I think about another person is them, and how much is some kind of construction in my mind? We all know that it is possible to see much in another person that no one else sees. Do we actually see the other? Or are we still seeing a fantasy—for the most part.
I know I’ve done the same thing to real people. I’ve imagined them to be people they aren’t. I have a particular habit of making women into goddesses. I put them up on pedestals and worship them. Literally—on my knees before them. Oddly, they didn’t like this. They didn’t think I actually knew them.
I guess I’m saying is I don’t know what reality is. I can’t tell if it makes sense to distinguish between the real and the virtual. It’s all in my head, anyway.
There’s another thing I don’t know, too. I don’t know what betrayal is. I know that for most people this is black and white. If you spend any emotional energy away from your primary partner, then, unless you have a prior agreement about this, you are cheating.
I don’t quite know what the significance of cheating is. I know I’ve done it and I’ve had it done to me. It hurt like hell. I know I hurt my wife badly. And yet, she decided our family was important enough to give it another shot. She recognized that we did have problems—she acted out in one way (becoming ever more controlling), and I in another way (seeking love in other places—and I do mean love, not sex).
It seems to me that most people in the US think there is a bright line separating acceptable from unacceptable behavior. The consequences of cheating are the dissolution of the relationship. Anyone who doesn’t do that is some kind of wimp.
I have decided (and you can decide for yourselves whether I am rationalizing this or not) that relationships are much more complicated. There is more to them than sex and love and family and all the rest. Betrayals can happen in many ways, not just sexually.
I have ways to get myself off the hook. I was in a manic phase of bipolar disorder. I am a sex and love addict. I’ve seen people use both these explanations to keep their spouse from dumping them. I’ve also seen both used as a reason to dump someone.
I have chosen to do things, whether influenced by an addiction or a disease or just my own selfish desires, or even other psychological issues, that hurt others. I hate that. Yet, I did it because I felt I needed to in order to be more complete. I didn’t want to end my marriage. I knew my wife would not support such a thing. I decided that I would do it anyway, knowing it made me a bad person in many people’s eyes.
I guess it doesn’t really matter what anyone thinks about whether you are betraying your boyfriend or not. What matters is that you need this, and he needs it, and you both know what is going on (I think). That’s not betrayal. And even if you didn’t know what was going on… I think it would be what is thought of as betrayal, but I think you would be doing it honestly, not to get away with something, and not to hurt anyone, but because of needs you have that are important enough to justify these rash measures.
It is what it is. And there’s really not much point in asking people about it, except perhaps as an intellectual exercise. Do what you will as long as it hurts none. But sometimes there is a more tricky balance between hurting others and hurting yourself. That’s where things become much more complicated, and black and white judgments about betrayal—while easy to assess—aren’t really relevant. It’s only something each individual can answer for themselves.
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