By Dr. Barbara Winter
Infidelity doesn’t knock quietly. It erupts like an earthquake. One moment you are standing on familiar ground; the next, the floor gives way. In my 35 years of clinical practice, I’ve seen how betrayal not only fractures trust but unsettles the very identity of the one betrayed.
An affair is not only about sex. It is about broken trust, fractured identity, and the collapse of the story you thought you were living. I often hear “I don’t know who I am anymore” because infidelity shakes not only the bond between partners but the very foundation of self.
As Esther Perel observes, “When we seek the gaze of another, it isn’t always our partner we are turning away from, but the person we ourselves have become.” In this sense, infidelity is less about rejecting a spouse and more about reclaiming a lost or hidden part of oneself. But knowing this doesn’t soften the blow. It only widens the lens: the wound is not just relational, it is existential.
The Double Betrayal
Infidelity carries a double edge. There is the betrayal of the act itself, and then there is the betrayal of the story. You thought you were living one narrative — committed partnership, shared trust — only to find another story unfolding behind your back. It is for this reason that betrayal cuts so deep. It is not simply what happened, but the disorientation of realizing that what you believed to be real was not the full truth.
Infidelity rewrites your reality. The story you believed about your marriage — and about yourself within it — suddenly feels false.
A Story of Discovery
Janice discovered her husband’s affair not through a confession but through a late-night message that appeared on his phone. In an instant, the life she thought she knew disintegrated. She told me, “It wasn’t just that he was with someone else. It was that the marriage I believed in — the story of us — wasn’t real in the way I thought it was.”
Janice’s experience captures the essence of betrayal: the collapse of the narrative, the shock of realizing your partner was living a parallel story.
Do Marriages Have to End After Betrayal?
Conventional wisdom says yes. Many believe infidelity is the unforgivable offense, the deal-breaker that ends a marriage. And for some, it is. But the story is not always so absolute.
Marriages do not have to end over an affair. Psychologist Barry McCarthy has written extensively about how couples can — and often do — recover from betrayal. According to McCarthy, the presence of an affair signals profound hurt, neglect, or disconnection, but it does not automatically mean the end. In fact, with honesty and repair, some couples create a relationship more alive than before.
This perspective can be both unsettling and liberating. Unsettling, because it challenges the idea that betrayal must end the story. Liberating, because it allows couples to reimagine what is possible, to see that the relationship’s meaning is not contained in a single event, however painful.
An Invitation to Ask Deeper Questions
This does not mean minimizing the devastation of betrayal. Infidelity demands an honest confrontation with pain, anger, and loss. It requires accountability from the partner who strayed, and a reckoning with the grief of the one betrayed. But it can also — paradoxically — become an invitation. An invitation to ask deeper questions:
- What was missing or unspoken in our relationship?
- What parts of ourselves did we abandon to maintain harmony?
- Can we create a partnership that holds both safety and aliveness?
Transformation can be a passage through rupture. Betrayal cracks us open. In that rawness, we are forced to confront not only the other but also ourselves. Sometimes that confrontation ends a marriage. Sometimes it forges a new one within the same couple.
A Story of Hope
Jan and Margo came to therapy shattered by infidelity. At first, every session was filled with rage, grief, and despair. But over time something unexpected emerged. Through painful honesty and careful repair, they created a marriage that felt more alive, more truthful, than the one that had existed before. Jan once said, “I would give anything to erase the hurt I caused … but I can also say that this is the first time I feel truly seen in my marriage.”
This is not every couple’s path. Some cannot or should not stay together. But it is a reminder that even from the deepest rupture, growth and intimacy are sometimes possible.
Finding Your Way Forward
The earthquake of betrayal may end one story, but it can also begin another.
If you are navigating the shockwaves of betrayal, know this: the earthquake you feel right now will not last forever. The ground will not always be this unsteady. Whether you choose to rebuild with your partner or rebuild your life separately, healing is possible.
Infidelity may be the end of one story — the marriage as you knew it — but it can also be the beginning of another. The question is not only: Can we survive this? But also: What kind of relationship, and what kind of self, might emerge on the other side?
If you are living in the aftermath of betrayal, you do not have to navigate it alone. With proper support, the earthquake can become the first step toward rebuilding — whether that means together or on your own terms.
Consider couples therapy to help after discovery. If you’re weighing whether to stay or go, discernment counseling can help you pause and explore before making a decision.
*****
This article original appeared on Dr. Barbara Winter’s website at this link: The Shock of Betrayal: Why Infidelity Feels Like an Earthquake | Dr. Barbara Winter, PhD