My partner wants to know every detail. How much should I reveal?
When you hide any part of your affair, your spouse feels pushed out and unable to work towards trusting you again. You should be willing to tell your partner everything he/she wants to know.
That doesn't mean they should know everything. There are details of your affair that will result in more hurt than healing. But you're not the one who should be making that call. This is where the help of a pastor or counselor can be of great benefit because they will be able to guide your partner in determining which specifics they need to know.
If your partner demands immediate answers, I suggest responding: "I don't want to keep secrets, and I am willing to tell you anything you want to know. But my understanding from people who know about these things is that we need help working through this. Before we talk about all the details of the affair, would you agree to get help from a counselor?" Then, when the time comes, be ready to keep your word.
By the way, even though I do my best to help clients understand how important it is to be completely honest, some still believe it will be better to keep some secrets. The motives for doing this are varied. Some even sincerely believe they do their partner a favor by not telling them certain things. This almost always backfires. I received the following emails from a couple who had previously gone through a "confession" (in which he claimed that he had told the whole truth with nothing left still hidden), but the wife found out about more lies and decided to leave him.
Here's what he wrote me: "I had not told her everything, and like you predicted, it came back to bite me. She left. I don't know what else to say. I'm deeply distraught..."
And here's what she wrote: "I am leaving him, not because of what he did, but because he continued to lie to me even though he promised openness and honesty. I won't trust him again."
Recently, I had appointments with three separate men who had continued to lie about their affairs even after promising to be completely honest. These men were partly motivated by not wanting to hurt their wives further, but that wasn't their only motive. Here are their stories...
Story 1: This man’s affair was revealed over a year ago. Once caught, he promised to be truthful about everything but still withheld significant information about that affair and a previous affair (which neither his wife nor I knew about at the time). He didn't want to reveal too much because he wasn't convinced that his marriage would survive. There was part of him that truly wanted his marriage "fixed" but wasn't ready to completely let go of the other woman. His dishonesty left room for reconnection, and the affair restarted and ended several times over the following months.
In ways he never expected (and this happens far more frequently than people expect), his wife discovered more truth, even about the past affair. Now he's desperate, not wanting to lose her, but she wonders if too much damage has been done. Like every wife in these three examples, she tells him clearly that she could have dealt with the whole truth at the beginning of the process. She could have worked on forgiving and trusting him if she knew he was risking it all to be honest with her. But now her trust has been severely damaged, perhaps beyond her willingness to take any more chances with him.
Story 2: This couple had a "Truth Session" with me. All indicators pointed to continued lying, even though he spent much time and energy claiming that he was being completely honest. His wife didn't buy it and asked him to leave the house. He came to see me yesterday with a noticeable shift in his demeanor. He stopped trying to protect his reputation or to make excuses. He doesn't just want to fix his marriage; he wants to fix himself. Because he has moved rather quickly to correct his lies and because his wife seems willing to move toward forgiveness, I predict this couple will find their way to a satisfying reconciliation.
Story 3: This man has no long history of lying or cheating. This was his first indiscretion. The affair was just beginning when it was discovered. The emotional connection was minimal, and the physical contact had not yet progressed to sex. He felt tremendous shame over what he had done and thought it would be less risk to his marriage if he just eliminated certain facts from his confession. This was completely unnecessary, and I am certain that his wife would have dealt with the whole truth in a way that allowed them to survive the betrayal. But realizing that he has continued to lie to her has been devastating. She asked him to leave and indicated no desire to do further counseling. He believes he's lost any chance to save the marriage. I suspect he might be right.
On the other side of an affair, both men and women have difficulty giving up their control of the information. They convince themselves that it is better not to tell. But my experience with couples shows that a quick confession of the whole truth (no matter how bad it may be) is one of the best predictors of healthy reconciliation.
Contrast the previous examples with many who take the risk of complete transparency. They do this without any guarantee of the outcome. They do it because they are tired of controlling lies, want to give a partner what he/she is asking for, need to change themselves, or maybe even believe this is the only way toward a new kind of marriage/relationship. Those clients who give themselves 100% do not regret their choice. They may regret the consequences of the affair, but they do not tend to second-guess their commitment to honesty. (The regret tends to come from those who go only part of the way and then get upset because "I knew that wouldn't work!")
Tom (a real client but not his real name) took that risk. He answered every question thoroughly and honestly. He made no defense. He did not try to excuse or blame; he just told the truth, plain and simple. But the truth was harder to hear than his wife had imagined. She was devastated. She left the session, went home, smashed every picture of them, and told him to get out.
He called me right away to let me know what had happened. "Being honest was a better choice for me, I know, but now I'm not sure it was the best choice for my marriage. I'm not sure she can get over the whole truth." I encouraged him to hang on; there would be more to their story.
Three days later, she asked him to return. She thanked him for his honesty and was committed to rebuilding their marriage. He has remained committed to helping her work through the pain of his betrayal, which is difficult, but they're making progress. I believe their story will have a happy ending.
The Betrayed: The Need for Answers
The following letter was written by Joseph, a betrayed spouse, to explain why questions about his wife's affair needed to be answered. It was originally posted on the now-defunct BAN online message board (DearPeggy.com).
I know you are feeling the pain of guilt and confusion. I understand that you wish all this never happened and that you wish it would just go away. I can even believe that you truly love me and that your indiscretion hurts you emotionally much the same way it hurts me. I understand your apprehension to me discovering little by little, everything that led up to your indiscretion, everything that happened that night, and everything that happened afterwards. I understand. No one wants to have a mistake or misjudgment thrown in his or her face repeatedly. No one wants to be forced to "look" at the thing that caused all their pain over and over again.
I can actually see that through your eyes you are viewing this whole thing as something that just needs to go away, something that is over, that he/she doesn't mean anything to you, so why is it such a big issue? I can understand you wondering why I torture myself with this continuously, and thinking, doesn't he/she know by now that I love him/her? I can see how you can feel this way and how frustrating it must be. But for the remainder of this letter I'm going to ask you to view my reality through my eyes.
You were there. There is no detail left out from your point of view. Like a puzzle, you have all the pieces and you are able to reconstruct them and be able to understand the whole picture, the whole message, or the whole meaning. You know exactly what that picture is and what it means to you and if it can affect your life and whether or not it continues to stir your feelings. You have the pieces, the tools, and the knowledge. You can move through your life with 100% of the picture you compiled. If you have any doubts, then at least you're carrying all the information in your mind and you can use it to derive conclusions or answers to your doubts or question. You carry all the "STUFF" to figure out OUR reality. There isn't really any information, or pieces to the puzzle that you don't have.
Now let's enter my reality. Let's both agree that this affects our lives equally. The outcome no matter what it is well affect us both. Our future and our present circumstances are every bit as important to me as it is to you. So, why then is it okay for me to be left in the dark? Do I not deserve to know as much about the night that nearly destroyed our relationship as you do?
Just like you, I am also able to discern the meaning of certain particulars and innuendos of that night and just like you, I deserve to be given the opportunity to understand what nearly brought our relationship down. To assume that I can move forward and accept everything at face value is unrealistic and unless we stop thinking unrealistically I doubt our lives will ever "feel" complete.
You have given me a puzzle. It is a 1000 piece puzzle and 400 random pieces are missing. You expect me to assemble the puzzle without the benefit of looking at the picture on the box. You expect me to be able to discern what I am looking at and to appreciate it in the same context as you. You want me to be as comfortable with what I see in the picture as you are. When I ask if there was a tree in such and such area of the picture you tell me don't worry about it, it's not important. When I ask whether there were any animals in my puzzle you say don't worry about it, it's not important. When I ask if there was a lake in that big empty spot in my puzzle you say, what's the difference, it's not important. Then later when I'm expected to "understand" the picture in my puzzle you fail to understand my disorientation and confusion.
You expect me to feel the same way about the picture as you do but deny me the same view as you. When I express this problem you feel compelled to admonish me for not understanding it, for not seeing it the way you see it. You wonder why I can't just accept whatever you chose to describe to me about the picture and then be able to feel the same way you feel about it.
So, you want me to be okay with everything. You think you deserve to know and I deserve to wonder. You may honestly feel that the whole picture, everything that happened is insignificant because in your heart you know it was a mistake and wish it never happened. But how can I know that? Faith? Because you told me so? Would you have faith if the tables were turned?
Don't you understand that I want to believe you completely? But how can I? I can never know what is truly in your mind and heart. I can only observe your actions, and what information I have acquired and slowly, over time rebuild my faith in your feelings. I truly wish it were easier.
So, there it is, as best as I can put it. That is why I ask questions. That is where my need to know is derived from. And that is why it is unfair for you to think that we can otherwise effectively move forward...
See Also: Articles on “Truth”