Cheating Parents. Dennis Ortman

of Marcy’s labors, especially the lavish lifestyle it afforded them. He did not take his work nearly as seriously as Marcy did. He did what he needed to do to get by, particularly enjoying golf outings with clients. John became an avid golfer, spending most of his free time at the country club they had joined. When their two daughters were born, Marcy took a brief maternity leave and then hired a nanny to care for their children. Keeping the business growing and maintaining their lifestyle were her main priorities.

      Being so preoccupied with work, Marcy did not recognize the growing distance in her relationship with John. When he complained about her absence, she responded, “You certainly enjoy the lifestyle I’m providing.” He grew quiet, immersing himself even more in his hobbies and social life at the club. Marcy became married to her job and John felt like an outsider. Eventually, the loneliness became too much for him. John began a secret affair with the hostess at the club. John thought he was discrete, but soon became careless in leaving a hotel receipt in his pants pocket. When Marcy discovered it, all hell broke loose and they began therapy to put the pieces back together.

      John and Marcy both admitted that they had lost the connection they enjoyed in college. John still admired Marcy’s energy and drive but felt neglected emotionally. Marcy could no longer laugh and have fun with John, because she resented and secretly envied his casual and carefree life. Exploring her childhood in depth, Marcy realized how much she had lived her father’s dream for her and neglected to consider what she wanted for herself. She remembered him bringing her to a bar on many occasions where he met with an attractive woman he identified as a good friend. Her father cautioned, “But don’t tell your mother about her, because she would not understand. This is our little secret, just between you and me.”

      Marcy kept that secret for years. She felt a sense of loyalty to her father, who had given her so much. However, she was also angry with him for making her an accomplice in the betrayal of her mother. Guilt gnawed away at her. To relieve the guilt and shame, she worked hard to prove her own worth, pushing herself relentlessly. She became addicted to striving for the success her father desired for her, losing a sense of intimacy with herself and others.

      One day, disillusioned and exhausted with her chase after success at work, she told John, “Let’s take a long vacation. Work can survive without me. I love you and want to rebuild our life together.”

      CHILDHOOD CONNECTION: LIVING IN A HOUSE OF LIES

      When parents are unfaithful, their children dwell in a house of lies. The most harmful aspect of the affair is not the sexual encounter itself but the web of deceit to hide it, in total disregard for the truth and the partner’s feelings. Affairs live in the dark, avoiding the light of exposure. The unfaithful partner lives a double life. What is visible to the family and the public is the pretense of a committed relationship. What is hidden is a secret life of passion with another. When the betrayal comes to light, as it inevitably does, the lies are revealed. The house collapses under the weight of the deceit.

      Your parents played a confusing game of hide and seek with the truth, with each other, with themselves and with you. Your unfaithful parent hid the affair, but his or her guilt led to carelessness in order to be found out. Your parent pretended to be a good and faithful person, but knew deep inside that he or she was living a lie. Your offended parent, perhaps picking up clues of the infidelity, wanted to know, yet did not want to know. Acknowledging the truth would have been too overwhelming and would have required decisive action. The offended parent pretended to the world and to him or herself that everything was okay. Your parents likely kept secrets and lied to you about the affair, just to protect you from the overwhelming truth of the betrayal. As a child, you watched this game being played out, not understanding the rules and wondering what was true and real. You were left confused, not knowing whom or what to trust.

      Remember what it was like for you as a child when you placed all of your trust in your parents. You counted on them to guide and protect you. You looked up to them as role models. Little did you know what was simmering beneath the façade of normality they created. And you believed them that everything was okay, even though you witnessed some arguing and felt the tension in the home. That was all normal to you. After all, what you grow up with you come to believe is normal. Isn’t everyone’s home just like mine?

      When the bombshell of your parent’s affair is dropped, your faith in them, yourself and your perception of the world is shattered. Your sense of security in knowing what is true and real is lost. Your mother is not the kind, loving, faithful person you imagined her to be. When you see your father depressed and outraged, you wonder if he is really the strong person you thought you could always count on. Your parents taught you to be honest and truthful and now their marriage is exposed as a big lie. You imagined your home as a safe and secure place and your parents always reassured you that it was. Now you don’t know if you can trust anything they say. You doubt your faith in what you thought was true.

      Your parents’ cover-up planted seeds of deceit and mistrust in you that would flower in adulthood. To survive the trauma of betrayal, the insecurity of not knowing what is true and real, you look for a safe haven. Not trusting that the world of intimate relationships can offer security, you create a sense of safety in competent activity. Your parents may have told you that you were talented in some way, perhaps intelligent, hard-working or creative. So you put your energy into developing that talent and work hard at it. Feeling insecure and unsure of yourself deep down, you begin to feel good about yourself through a sense of accomplishment. People recognize your abilities and praise you for what you accomplish. You feel proud, somehow making up for the travesty of your parents’ failed marriage.

      As much as you gain by immersing yourself in your chosen field of activity, something important is lost. In performing so well, you become an actor who so identifies with his role that he forgets who he really is. You lose yourself in the image you are creating. Furthermore, you become married to your work, have an affair with your job and abandon your partner. Without knowing it, you learn to identify with the deceitful betrayer by hiding your true self.

      What are some signs of a tendency to hide your true self, instead finding your sense of self-worth and identity in your work?

      AM I AN EMOTIONAL ACTOR?

       • Am I overly sensitive about what others think of me?

       • Do I have a strong need for recognition and approval?

       • Do I like to perform before an audience?

       • Am I driven by a sense of achievement?

       • Does my self-esteem rise and fall according to how others see me?

       • Do I thrive on competition and fear failure more than anything?

       • Am I extremely conscious of my image?

       • Am I willing to lie to make myself look good?

       • Is it important for me to create a favorable impression?

       • Do I tend to lose myself in my work?

       • Do I believe that love comes from what I produce, rather than from who I am?

       • Do I tend to focus on the positive and overlook the negative?

       • Do I often set aside my feelings to get the job done?

       • Am I uncertain about what I really feel in many situations?

       • Am I a vain person?

      PATH OF HEALING: BE TRANSPARENT TO YOURSELF

      When people come to me for therapy, they are suffering and look to me as an expert in pain relief. Often, they ask me, “What can I do so I don’t feel so bad?” Or they may ask more specific questions: “What should I do about my marriage—stay or leave?” They look to me for the answer. They have exhausted themselves trying to work out the problem with their own resources and hope that I can provide the solution. I may be their last hope.

      My response initially causes them dismay, “Who do you think knows best what you need to do? Who is the expert on you?”

      “I know I should be the expert and know what I need,” they say.

      I