On the cusp of my wedding, my mother said, "It's not too late. You don't have to do this."
How oddly comforting, these words of love and concern from a parent who had already bought and paid for a wedding. Regardless of how kind, sincere, and angelic he was, both my mother and I knew my husband-to-be had cheated during his first marriage. "Once a cheater, always a cheater," she whispered, looking deeply into my eyes. There was no malice. Rather, my mother's eyes brimmed with unselfish tears. "Mom, it's too late to back out now. I love him, I trust him . . . and I'm going for it!" I declared. She squeezed my hands, gracefully respecting my decision.
Ten years later after uncovering layer upon layer of betrayal and infidelity, I remembered my mother's words. Somehow - in some intuitive way - she had known.
He had explained away the "glitches" in his first marriage. I believed him. I know now that these explanations were nothing more than a litany of excuses. The first wife was mean, overbearing, stingy with sex, greedy with credit cards, unreliable, etc., etc., etc. I made sure that I didn't repeat these offenses. Yet, still, he cheated.
There is a reason that schools prohibit cheating on tests. Cheating is a sloppy short-cut, devaluing hard work and dedication. Cheating is purposefully dishonest. It does everyone a disservice. It skews the numbers. It blurs the lines between what is right and what is wrong.
Likewise, cheating in a marriage is a choice. Cheating grinds dirt into the purity of a marriage. Once soiled, no amount of bleach - or excuses - can undo the damage. And the "soil" can include many things, from the death of trust, to the pain of betrayal, to the transmission of diseases. Unlike vows, excuses mean nothing. I did not care to hear that, "It didn't mean anything." Or that, "Love and sex are two separate things." Or, "But I always came home to you." Excuses are fleeting, while the inevitable fall-out is permanent
Fidelity is a choice. Willingly entering a life-long contract is no small undertaking. It seems that once people give their word and swear to be faithful, they should abide by those promises. It takes hard work. It takes intensity. Even if they are predisposed to cheat, it seems that the strength of a person's holy vows would pose a barrier to the act. A person's word is his or her bond. Or, it should be.
Love, too, is a choice. If you love someone, stay true. If there are problems, see a counselor. If the marriage is doomed, get a divorce. But honor yourself and others enough to stay true to your vows until the marriage is legally dissolved.
Otherwise, you are simply a cheater.