Now, given the law of averages, I’m sure some cheaters are, in fact, devastatingly sexy.

But the majority are not.

I mean, the majority of any of us cannot be perfect specimens, but for some reason cheaters -- cheaters who are trolls, cheaters with goiters, cheaters carrying 200 extra pounds, cheaters with back hair, limp-dick cheaters, cheaters with saggy pendulous breasts, cheaters with neck tattoos, cheaters with deformities, hunchback cheaters, clubfoot cheaters, cheaters with puss-infected sores, cheaters with gout, cheaters with male pattern baldness, cheaters with pink eye, cheaters with saddlebags, pock-marked cheaters, amputee cheaters, frizzy-haired cheaters, Stephen-Hawking-in-a-Fucking-Wheelchair cheaters -- believe they are irresistibly attractive.

Catnip! Femme fatales! Ricco Suave!

How do I know this? Evidence! I’m sure you all have uncovered evidence of affairs, seen the sexts, and thought “WTF?” and then “Ewwww.”

Remember the Anthony Weiner scandal? What possessed a man who looks like a sunken-chested marmot to think women want to see his Y-fronts? That’s some delusional confidence you have there, Sir.

My husband does employment law and you should see the sexual harassment cases. Some skeevy guy sends pictures of his butt to a coworker -- a middle-age butt, a butt with visible cellulite, a butt that is probably a butt best kept to one’s self. And yet somehow this person was brazen enough to think that some poor woman would be overcome with lust by the sight of it.

WTF narcissists? What are you THINKING?!

I think they’re thinking it occasionally works. You send enough ugly butt pictures to enough women, you eventually find the weak antelope in the herd who will take you up on it, if you’re not brought up on harassment charges first.

Look, I know cheating is about narcissistic supply (or what I call ego kibbles). I know it’s about how the affair partner makes them feel. It’s fantasy and limerence. And I know I am trying to apply logic to the batshit crazy, but I’d like to think if I was bold enough to try and seduce strangers that I’d have something to work with. That I was, actually, in fact, devastatingly attractive.

Because for ordinary mortals, seduction is an awkward dance of getting to know one another. Fun, exciting, absolutely. But, if you have any sense at all, fraught with some insecurities. Does this dress make my ass look fat? Will he like me? Do I have something stuck in my teeth?

But fuckwits? God DAMN. No adaptive anxiety whatsoever! Consider Newt Gingrich. Multiple affairs! How can there be enough weak antelopes in the herd to EVER countenance even touching Newt Gingrich with a barge pole? (If antelopes had barge poles or higher thoughts... I am mixing my metaphors...) But my point is -- he is ODIOUS.

And yet Newt Gingrich gets laid. Go figure.

I’ve only seen my husband’s serial cheating ex-wife once. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess I thought she’d be more than a pudgy woman in magenta pedal pushers. Yes, pedal pushers. Magenta. A look no one should try and pull off. Especially a woman whose thighs are probably not her best feature. However, they did match her henna-ed hair.

It wasn’t a pretty picture. And if she was an ordinary person of good character, it would be vicious of me to attack her drunken gypsy dress sense. It would be totally un-Christian of me to think “mutton dressed as lamb” and wonder why higher sizes come in magenta. (Misogyny? Color-blindness? Spite?)

Look, I’m sure she’d probably have a few choice words for me. (I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m too busy enjoying this wonderful man you chucked for a troll priest you met on World of Warcraft.)

Doesn’t it blow your mind the way cheaters see each other through drunk goggles of their own narcissism?

Why yes you are the most clever, ravishing, brilliant, sexy beast I’ve ever had the pleasure of blowing in a Walmart parking lot!

This phenomena is best summed up in the exchange on the (long departed but still missed ) Soulmate Schmoopie video series:

“Your dick is perfect.”

“Yes, my dick is perfect.”

And here is the sad, chumpy thing -- we would have loved them imperfections and all.

We looked past the stretch marks, the halitosis, and the socks with sandals. We loved with our whole hearts. No drunk narcissist goggles for chumps. At least physically anyway. (We have other chump goggles -- we see goodness and best intentions where they don’t exist.)

And the sad flip side. We thought we were enough. We thought raising their children, bringing home our paychecks, nursing their sick mothers, sublimating our needs, and living side by side with them each day bonded us. That they could look past our human faults and aging bits and love us back whole heartedly.

But we were traded for the delusional sensation of feeling devastatingly sexy.

***

So the other day, we had a discussion going in the comments about cheaters who do it in the marital bed, the family motorhome, the truck, etc. My opinion is these freaks are a certain subset of cheaters — the real sickos. It’s not enough to cheat, they get an extra kick from secretly debasing their chumps.

I Know a Secret You Don’t Know.

It makes them feel powerful to see you unknowingly humiliated this way. Sleeping in their sticky damp sheets. Using the same towels as the affair partner. Sitting down to a nice dinner with their Schmoopie. Accepting the affair partner’s gifts and presence at your significant life events. They get to revel in your chumpdom and feel superior, united in their dirty little secret. Co-conspirators. Partners in crime.

How delicious. How exciting.

I imagine there are the cheaters who keep their lives more nicely compartmentalized. Home life and double life do not intersect. You visit the pay-by-the-hour Schmoopie, you rate the pay-by-the-hour Schmoopie. You travel for work, you screw at the conference. They enjoy a safer kind of cake. (Well, safe in terms of exposure. Not safe in terms of risk and STDs.)

So why do cheaters take such outrageous risks?

I have some theories.

1) They’re lazy.

People who want to cheat unfortunately often don’t have to look too far to find someone willing. A co-worker, a neighbor, a family friend. All it takes is someone similarly characterless who’s up for no-strings attached sex.

So, this person was in your circle before, and in your circle they remain. How can they look you in the eye? Invite your kid over for a play date? Bring you homemade banana muffins? It’s part of the high. They’re doing a little competition with you — the pick me dance that affair partners do. Even when they tell themselves how uninvested they are, they want those constant reminders how much better they are than you, how moister their muffins are, how much more accomplished their children, how deserving. How lacking you are.

Of course, you’re blindfolded, with both hands tied behind your back, but they’re happy to stand in the ring and sucker punch you and declare themselves the “winner.”

Your spouse, on the other hand, is not just a sicko, they’re probably also just lazy. Why pay by the hour for a hotel when your bed is available? Why make special transportation arrangements when they can drive your truck?

You assign meaning and significance to things because you are a chump. Because you care. You see the connectedness of things. You ascribe meaning.

Cheaters don’t care and they aren’t connected. It’s about kibbles. Will using our marital bed get me kibbles right now? Okay! Nothing is sacred.

Nothing that is except kibbles.

2) They get off on the deceit.

Who gets off on duping delight? Sociopaths. Sicko cheaters feel a contemptuousness for the chump and revel in their superiority at games. Uh, isn’t it a game unless we both knowwe’re playing a game? Nope, not if you’re a sociopath. We can’t have a level playing field here! The game is duping you! Making you pay for all the slights and grudges to their ego.

Or on the other hand, it’s nothing personal. They’re bored. They’ll chump you for amusement.

How else do you explain one of the OW being invited to your wedding? (Raising my hand here.) Yep, I paid the bar tab for one of my cheater’s OW. Isn’t that special?

I’m sure having one of your OW in attendance at your wedding is a keen reminder that you are Not The Boss of Him. See, he’s “agreeing” to rules he’s already broken! Winning!

And it’s high stakes poker. It’s not enough risk-taking to just cheat, you have to amp up the drama — you have to flaunt it right under your chump’s nose. And they deserve it really for being so stupid. For trusting you.

Sex isn’t the high, deceit is the high. Power and humiliating others is the high. Control is the high.

3.) They are delusional.

Why do they take such risks? Because they live in a magical reality. They never think their affair partner will rat them out. Everyone is just an extension of them, so won’t everyone just do as they wish? Of course they will. It is good to be puppet master.

Like all the Cluster B freaks, they’re special exceptions to the rules and constraints of chump society. In their imaginations, they never draw a deuce in their high stakes poker game. They always win and never get caught. When in truth, they mess up because… they just don’t think that far ahead.

When I look back at my cheater’s risk taking, I just marvel. It was so stupid, so transparent, so clearly all going to collapse into a pile of ashes. And yet he did it anyway. Not just to me, but to two wives previously as well. He learned nothing from collapses one and two. Instead, he just took greater and more outlandish risks. He really couldn’t see past the next kibble quest.

I’ve alluded to this study before, but just found it again online from a New Yorker article on the science of sociopathy — these disordered people only see “card to card.” They can’t look over the event horizon to see consequences in order to fear them.

Joseph Newman, who chairs the psychology department at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, is the leading advocate of this theory. His model is based on traditional research methods, such as lab work using rats with brain lesions, and studies of humans using a well-known card-playing task, in which players gradually start to lose money; the players in the control group stopped as their earnings diminished, but the psychopaths could focus only on the outcome of the next card choice. Another hypothesis is that psychopaths lack fear of personal injury and, more important, moral fear—fear of punishment.

I’m not saying all cheaters are sociopaths — but the sadistic freaks who take delight in the double life, enjoy flagrantly humiliating you, and never think the day will come when they’re found out? Yeah, I think they’re sickos.

Whatever it is, you need to get far away from it.

Another one from the Google censorship files. A mistress writes to me and doesn’t get the warm reception she imagined. Her boyfriend has a long history of serial cheating and she’s afraid she might be his next chump.

Dear Chump Lady,

I am probably the biggest chump of all, but here goes… I was married for 21 years and had an affair (the only one) with a married man I work with, who had been married for 17 years.

He said I’m number 8 for him.

He told me about all of them -- even about sleeping with his wife’s best friend (who also happens to be his best friend’s wife and neighbor). My naiveté made me believe that it was a one time thing. He told me it went on for 15 years! I can’t even begin to wrap my head around that, but I am still with him.

He also told me he went to a strip club when he was away for work for a month and picked up a stripper -- also that she stayed with him the entire time he was there. We both divorced our spouses and are living together, but as you can probably guess it’s not good. I obviously don’t trust him and a lot of times can’t stop thinking about his past. It makes me want to vomit. I am terrified he will cheat on me -- he said he won’t of course.

AM I THE BIGGEST CHUMP OF ALL?

DB

Dear DB,

No. You’re not a chump at all. You’re the victor in the fuckwit Thunderdome. You’ve beat out the competition and won the sparkly turd, DB. No tag backs.

He’s all yours.

If anyone wonders why I publish letters from Other Women (which invariably devolve into troll fests) consider them a public service announcement -- this is what winning the Pick Me Dance looks like.

The obvious but nauseating realization that you’re not special? Check.

Twitchy, mind-bending hypervigilance? Check.

Living together (presumably between strippers), clinging to the facade of your sh*tty relationship, to prove that annihilating two families was worth it? Check.

DB, I’m sorry. You competed for this Dreamboat with the full knowledge of who he is. Regretting your decision doesn’t make you a chump.

Perhaps you think being a chump means making stupid relationship decisions. Or having the kind of piss poor self-esteem that allows a person to tolerate fuckwits. Let’s be clear on the concept. Chumps are UNKNOWING. They are duped, lied to, humiliated, used, conspired against, conned. You are none of those things.

You knew exactly what you were getting -- a cheater.

You’re a cheater. He’s a cheater. You aren’t us. Chumps are acted UPON, they are not the actors. Chumps do not consent to be chumps. You, on the other hand, signed up for this shit.

You are not the victim here.

You’re Number 8. One idiot in a long line of idiots.

So now you’re terrified that he’ll do to you what you were complicit in doing to another? And you want MY sympathy? Who the fuck do you think you are?

Look, I’m an actual chump, so part of me feels bad ripping you to shreds for reaching out to me. You has a sadz and maybe I can help. But then I bitchslap myself, because post-infidelity Tracy has zero tolerance for your kind of malignant entitlement.

Entitlement?

Yeah, the kind of chutzpah that writes “I had an affair (the only one)...” You want a bitch cookie? Tell it to the guy who lost 21 years of his life to a cheater (YOU). You’re scared shitless that Mr. Wonderful MIGHT do to you what you actually DID to your ex-husband. Meditate on that.

Or how about the entitlement that led you to fuck a married co-worker? Did you consider his chump wife? Let me guess -- she didn’t Sufficiently Appreciate Him. Compelled him to fuck those strippers and her best friend, huh? She must’ve deserved it. Unlike YOU there Sparkletwat. Best of luck with all your super specialness. Hope it serves as a magic barrier against STIs.

DB, it takes some gobsmacking gall to write to a support site for chumps when you’re the Other Woman. I’m sorry that merely thinking of being betrayed makes you “want to vomit.” (Actually betraying chumps, however, must be just tickety boo.) How hard it is to be you.

I’d hate for your visit to Chump Nation to be for naught, as you wanted advice and all, so here’s some:

Regular pap smears.

Good luck.

So, here it is, in its original form. My treatise on why remorseful cheaters are unicorns.

This is my fundamental argument why the odds of reconciliation after infidelity are long: entitlement. The same qualities that compel someone to cheat (narcissism, greed, lack of empathy) are the opposite qualities you would need to reconcile (humility, a willingness to accept painful consequences voluntarily).

Ergo, this is why I liken successful reconciliation to a unicorn — a mythical creature, rarely sighted, that I want to believe in.

It’s my entire premise of Chump Lady.

People cheat because they feel entitled to cheat.

That’s it. That’s my simple answer to the painful question of WHY? I don’t believe people cheat because they’re broken, or their FOO issues, or because of the staggering powers of Facebook crushes. I don’t believe people cheat because of midlife crises, which descend on former church deacons like a toxic cloud of musk cologne. I don’t believe people cheat because of peri-menopause. I don’t believe people cheat because that hussy flung herself at him and wore down his defenses after his mother died. I don’t believe people cheat because monogamy is not an evolutionary imperative.

I believe people cheat because they give themselves permission to cheat — and that’s a matter of character.

Why would a cheater lead with humility?

So when D-Day hits, it does rather beggar belief that this person is going to lead with humility. To do that, they’d have to call into question their entitlement. And let’s face it, entitlement feels awesome. Humility, not so much.

Entitlement, of course, only feels awesome if you can suppress empathy. (Truly disordered people cannot do empathy.) Entitlement is — all the cookies for me! Empathy is… well, maybe I should share my cookies. You look sad without a cookie. As much as I want all the cookies, I don’t know if I can enjoy my cookies knowing that you’re sad not having a cookie.

When people are caught cheating they do a lot of things to keep entitlement alive. They gaslight. Cookies? I don’t have cookies. They blameshift. It is Right and Proper that I have all the cookies, because you don’t know how to appreciate cookies. They mindfuck. I would give you a cookie, but I was thinking of your health. You can’t handle sugar. They obfuscate. Cookie? Define cookie.

As long as there is entitlement, there is no hope of reconciliation.

Once you realize that, everything else falls into place. Chumps tie themselves in knots on the transparency issue. She didn’t give me her passwords! He won’t close his Facebook account! How can I monitor this?

You don’t have to. The fact that they feel entitled to their privacy means this is a nonstarter. They feel entitled to not answer your questions. They feel entitled to keep working with the person. They feel entitled to keep their good opinion of the affair partner alive.

The biggest, most humungous entitlement I see after discovery is that cheaters feel entitled to reconciliation, period. They think they deserve all the time they want to come out of the “fog.” To answer your questions. To read a book, or schedule a shrink appointment. They feel grossly entitled to a chump’s patience.

Reconciliation — marriage with perks! — is more entitlement.

How many cheaters feel entitled to all the marital perks they enjoyed before discovery of their affairs? Comfort and validation from the chump. Sex. Housework. Income.

Humility is much harder.

Humility means that it’s not all about you. It means you manage your expectations of any reward. Humility accepts consequences and lets go of outcomes. Humility does not try to control the narrative or protect its image.

Humility is painful. It wrestles with shame. Humility recognizes that regaining trust is a long, slow process that may end, despite their best efforts. Humility works hard without pay. Humility is forthcoming. Humility doesn’t keep secrets.

Most chumps who desire reconciliation accept that transforming entitlement into humility is a process.

And so, after being betrayed, wrestling with their own enormous grief, chumps accept yet MORE humility and eat shit sandwiches waiting for their cheaters to catch up on this humility thing.

That makes me mad. All the false starts and failures at no contact. Cheaters “grieving” the affair partner, staring blankly at questions and “not remembering.”

Chumps believe in humility, because they’re so good at it.

They believe their cheaters will come around. They see displays of regret, tears, apologies and put a lot of stock in that. They stay the course, because they believe in the transformative powers of pain. Surely, this person will see how much they hurt me and will feel moved to fix this. Chumps also believe that the cheater’s own pain will make them connect the dots of action to consequence.

I’m still a chump, because I still believe those things. I do think people change. I don’t think everyone is a sociopath narcissist unable to feel empathy. But I think change is HARD and is a tremendous example of delayed gratification. So much work goes into lasting change and the rewards are not immediate. I do not believe this is an attractive course of action for most cheaters.

Why would someone prone to escapism become someone capable of delayed gratification?

The rewards of reconciliation are not immediate and they’re humbling. Why would someone high on the entitlement of an affair choose the painful path of humility? Because there’s so much to lose! One’s family and finances and the respect of the children!

Cheaters don’t think they’re going to lose that. Why? Because you’re still there. Helping them with their homework, walking with them, holding their hand on this humility thing. Reconciliation itself, does not help cheaters with their entitlement issues. If anything, it hurts authentic progress because it doesn’t level meaningful consequences.

But they’ll be so grateful you gave them that chance!

Yes, I want to believe that too. But how has that worked out for the many chumps here — refugees of failed reconciliations, some many years after the original affair? And even if cheaters do feel a true sense of gratitude for another chance — can they kill off entitlement thinking altogether?

Reformed cheaters can be like dry drunks.

All the entitlement, without the sexual acting out. They may spend more of the marital assets, do less housework, not work a regular job. Why? Because they’re special. I think at some level they believe that you are fortunate to have the wonderfulness that is them. Is that better? Is that worth saving?

If you were a cheater examining your choices after D-Day, what would be your most likely course?

Authentic reconciliation — shame and mortification, hard work of trust rebuilding without guaranteed reward, but you get to keep your marriage and family and finances intact. Eternal expressed gratitude to your chump for taking you back.

Cake! The veneer of reconciliation, doing the bare minimum in terms of apologies and marriage counseling. No shame, no mortification (because the chump won’t tell anyone and will continue to protect your image). Marriage, family, and finances intact. And options remain open for current or future affairs.

Escape! Follow the rainbow and start over with your sparkly affair partner. Okay, you lose the marriage, family, and half the finances, but you gain sparkles and there is some imaginary trading up. If you remain “friends” with your ex, you may be able to control the narrative or have another person to fuck once in awhile. The escape option also keeps cake alive.

Divorce. No marriage, half time with family (if that), half the finances. Mortification, shame, no controlling the chump’s narrative. But a chance to start over with a clean slate and someone new.

The only two honest choices are authentic reconciliation and divorce.

The two hardest paths. If you’re a person with demonstrated poor character, which path do you think would be most tempting? If you’re prone to escapism and entitlement — how long do you think you can stay on a hard path without lapsing?

Only one of these paths requires total humility — reconciliation. The other three let you keep most or all of your cookies.

See why I’m skeptical?

Policies that weaponize adultery in divorce don’t protect betrayed spouses — they trap women, expand state control over their exits, and distract from the real economic harms women face.

Last week, Florida Republican gubernatorial candidate James Fishback made headlines by proposing that anyone who cheats in a marriage should lose 100 percent of their marital assets and full custody of their children in divorce. “No questions asked,” he said. Adulterers would forfeit everything.

On the surface, that sounds like righteous fury on behalf of betrayed partners. And let’s face it: betrayal inspires righteous fury. Infidelity is shattering. It destabilizes families, destroys trust, and upends children’s lives. And if being sexually humiliated wasn’t bad enough, there’s the indignity of family court. Many chumps (as I call betrayed people) feel forced into financial settlements that don’t begin to account for the emotional and economic damage done.

So, this kind of stone-the-adulterer-in-divorce-court proposal can feel satisfying. Finally, a policymaker understands the real harm of being chumped. Hurrah. Someone is going to punish the cheater.

But revenge dressed up as divorce reform doesn’t help anyone. Do you really want your children’s other parent impoverished? Or for them to lose access to their child? (I would cynically observe that many cheaters abandon their children quite willingly.) This proposal is not about solidarity with the betrayed — it’s about controlling women.

Florida is currently a no-fault divorce state. The shift to no-fault divorce —beginning in the 1970s — was a lifeline. Under the old fault system women had to prove abuse, adultery, or abandonment in court. Fault divorce demanded all the mortifying receipts – evidence and witnesses. But the largest hurdle was financial – at a time when women were not equally represented in the workforce and had no protections – they needed money to litigate.

Fault divorce did not protect betrayed women -- it trapped them. It incentivized perjury. It empowered the spouse with more money and more control to drag out proceedings indefinitely. It made exit contingent on proving moral guilt to the state.

Do not bring it back.

When you introduce adultery as an automatic financial death sentence — “lose everything, lose your kids” — you don’t empower betrayed spouses. You make allegations of adultery the nuclear weapon of divorce litigation. And in any litigation, the partner with more resources has the advantage.

Who is more likely to be economically disadvantaged at divorce? Women.

Who is more likely to lack funds for forensic accounting, private investigators, and extended custody battles? Women.

Weaponizing adultery does not land in a vacuum. It lands in an unequal system.

Addressing the gender wage gap and lack of family caregiver support would go a long way to stabilizing the family structures Christian nationalists purportedly wish to preserve. Instead pearl-clutchers like Fishback get hung up sex, such as his proposal to levy a 50 % “sin tax” on OnlyFans. To be sure, web cam girls cost money. Financial deception and dissipation of marital assets are part of the chump experience.

But the harm of infidelity is not sex – it’s the theft.

Infidelity is an intimate form of partner abuse -- it’s the theft of one’s reality, believing your world to be safe when it isn’t. Cheaters expose their partners to STI risks without their knowledge. They exploit the unknowing partner’s emotional and domestic labor while diverting time, money, and resources elsewhere.

If we were serious about addressing that harm in divorce court, we would focus on fraud, asset dissipation, coercive control, and economic exploitation. We would look at gender bias in family court, parental alienation, and the horrors of parental reunification therapy. But instead of needed divorce reform, Fishback and others like him wish to reduce the debate to sex. As if the heavy boot of the state will keep people faithful.

It won’t.

It will, however, make divorce more dangerous and more punitive. It will raise the cost of exit. It will encourage strategic accusations. It will incentivize hiding assets before filing. It will deepen conflict rather than reduce it.

And it will distract from the economic reality facing mothers after divorce – a reduced standard of living.

If politicians truly want to stand with betrayed women and children: enforce child support.

In Florida, hundreds of thousands of children are owed billions in unpaid support. Federal data show the state has struggled compared to many others in initiating and collecting support on time. Roughly 38 percent of parents fail to pay on schedule.

Nationally, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, the average monthly child support check for a custodial parent is $533. No one is getting rich on $533. That’s not a monthly grocery bill or even utilities in this economy.

Yet, despite court orders to pay these paltry amounts, we suck at enforcement.

Less than of half of custodial parents (82 percent of whom are women) receive the full amount owed.

About 30 percent receive nothing at all.

There is roughly $118 billion in unpaid child support arrears in this country.

That is a national disgrace. In a time when we have sophisticated methods of debt collection for consumers who default on medical bills or car notes, we apparently lack the political will to collect debt for our children.

But to a mother who is owed, it’s the choice between groceries or allowing your child to join a sports team. It’s college textbooks or dental care. It’s working a second shift to make up the shortfall.

How about a sin tax on deadbeats?

Let’s talk about wage theft from women who shoulder the gap when court-ordered support doesn’t show up.

Let’s talk about enforcing the debts already owed to custodial parents and children.

Punishing adultery may make for viral headlines. But women do not need the state to tether their husband’s wandering dicks. We need enforceable child support and a divorce system that allows people to exit. And rebuild their lives for the better when they do.

*When this photo was taken in 2007 I was owed thousands in back child support on my son. Today he is 28 and I still haven’t received payment.

Esther Perel doesn’t just analyze infidelity — she sanitizes it. And in doing so, she builds a permission structure: a rhetorical framework that makes double lives feel romantic, understandable, and ethically frivolous. Her work doesn’t explain cheating. It quietly excuses it — and always at the expense of the people harmed.

Perel’s original Mating in Captivity schtick is that relationships are a tension between two competing interests: security and passion.

What kind of adventure is left vague. A hooker habit? Kiddy porn? Goats? What matters, Dear Reader, is your yearning for novelty.

Perel dwells in some ethereal judgement-free zone devoid of both ethics and specifics. She deliberately does not explore the abuse of power inherent to infidelity. How does our spiritual wanderer meet these “needs” for security and novelty? By having a double life. There is no infidelity without a double life. Cheating is “passion and security” through deception. Faithful chumps are the reliable home base. Their security is a mirage. But who cares? It’s good to be King.

When the double life is exposed, Perel assumes that those betrayed should care very deeply about what motivates their deceivers. Worse, she shames victims considering divorce. (Hey, who’s going be the security blanket then?)

Let’s not speak in terms of tangible harm — STIs, paternity testing, financial exposure, or uprooting your life for your partner’s career. Let’s talk instead about how fucking strange made them feel more alive. They’re on a journey of self-discovery. Sorry about the chlamydia. Don’t be a buzzkill.

Esther Perel has been creating a permission structure for sexual entitlement for decades.

Transgression is pleasure. Your affair is nothing to be ashamed about or apologize for.

This has all been quite tickety-boo for Perel. She’s got celebrity shrink status, a podcast and even her own board game. But even her talent for self-promotion could not prepare her for the Age of the Epstein Files.

The whole world is waking up to what monsters do in their secret sexual basements.

Now, it’s a lot harder to convince an incredulous public that what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

A Jeffrey Epstein email alleges that Bill Gates put antibiotics in Melinda Gates food so she wouldn’t be aware of an STI. (Gates denies it.) Now Melinda has to publicly relive the horrors of her marriage as new horrors come to light. Anyone who has ever had a D-Day (discovery day in infidelity parlance) can relate to this ongoing It’s Worse Than You Know agony.

But Perel has argued that disclosure of what bad actors do during those double lives isn’t necessary.

Cue Perel in the New Yorker, “In Defense of Adulterers” by Zoe Heller:

Americans, Perel observes, are particularly inclined to believe that a process of forensic confession is a necessary forerunner to the restoration of trust, but “coming clean,” she argues, is often more destructive than it is salutary, and “honesty requires careful calibration.”

Honesty only requires careful calibration if your default position is dishonesty. Notice how Perel moves the battlefield to Puritanical pearl clutching, so we completely bypass the power dynamics of entitlement and secrecy.

This is one of the many ways Perel sides with the powerful over the powerless.

Why this double life permission structure matters.

A permission structure is a framework that subtly signals which behaviors are acceptable or excusable by the way they are explained, normalized, or emotionally justified. Permission structures don’t create abusers. They make abuse feel explainable, forgivable, and emotionally justified. They turn violations into feel-good narratives and victims into obstacles to someone else’s journey of self-actualization.

I’m not saying Perel is in favor of sprinkling Amoxillion over your partner’s cornflakes. Or of child sex trafficking or anything else that lurks in the secret sexual basements of others. But because she refuses to apply a moral framework to double lives or speak in specifics about their harm, she does the mindfuck work for abusers. And I think she knows this and finds it profitable.

Esther Perel subtly sides with the powerful in the #MeToo era

The #MeToo era of transparency and accountability for sexual wrongdoing was Perel’s first indication she might have to pivot her message. (She’s since reinvented herself as a trauma specialist. I liken this to pedophiles getting into the ice cream truck business.) Watch how instead of choosing moral condemnation, Perel gaslights us and soft pedals Harvey Weinstein.

“These are not sexually powerful men. Sexually powerful men seduce. They don’t harass. These are insecure men who leverage their social power.”

Perel tries to defang the men by calling them weak. “These are not sexually powerful men” entirely misses the point. They are abusing their power. Harvey Weinstein was a kingmaker in Hollywood. Of course he was hugely powerful. Which is exactly why he felt entitled to harass women.

There is absolutely nothing “insecure” about forcing a woman to blow you. This isn’t “social leverage,” it’s violence. Our problem isn’t some pencil-necked geek who can’t ask a girl to the prom. It is a man drunk on power. Oh, but he feels “insecure” on the inside? Once again, Perel is more interested in the internal dynamics of the abuser than the abuse itself.

Not convinced?

Here are five elements of Esther Perel’s double life permission structure:

• Romanticizing language

• Psychologizing instead of moralizing

• Centering the actor, not the injured party

• Normalizing secrecy

• Appealing to identity

Let’s use the ridiculous frame that Perel employs for affairs (aka double lives) and apply it to the Epstein situation (aka the world’s biggest coverup). I’m not saying Esther Perel endorses predators. I’m saying her language is structurally useful to them.

Romanticizing language

Jeffrey Epstein was on a quest for aliveness. Bill Gates was just longing to feel “seen, chosen, desired, and special again.” What happens on Epstein’s island is just a “parallel universe” where people feel young, alive, and unburdened by responsibility.

Psychologizing instead of moralizing

Jeffrey had an unmet need for child trafficking. Massages are transcendence, not sex.

Explaining behavior without holding it ethically accountable

Ghislaine Maxwell procured victims to reclaim “lost parts of herself.”

Centering the actor, not the injured party

Forget about the sexual blackmail and threats, starting today we have a new relationship.

Normalizing secrecy

Let’s not release the files. Okay, maybe a few. This will require careful calibration.

Appealing to identity

Jeffrey Epstein’s crimes are just “exuberant acts of defiance.”

Oh, that’s so unfair. Esther Perel doesn’t think that!

She doesn’t NOT think that. It’s all about what Perel omits. Because Perel explicitly avoids making moral condemnations and will only discuss double lives on some sanitized, philosophical plane, her permission structure is very useful for monsters. And if you don’t think cheaters haven’t imperiled their partners’ health, siphoned money, or gratified themselves with sex trafficked people, you don’t know much about infidelity.

Esther Perel is a genius at marketing. But a failure at ethics.

By refusing to name infidelity as abuse — not just a longing — she builds a worldview where double lives feel tragic instead of predatory, complex instead of dangerous, and understandable instead of accountable.

And in an era when we are finally confronting what men do in their secret sexual basements, that kind of language doesn’t just miss the moment.

It protects the people the moment is about exposing.

I thought I could whistle past the graveyard. Keep my independent voice unmuffled. (I PUT AN ASTERISK IN F*CK, OKAY?!) But no. They’ve come for the Jesus cheaters.

So here, Substack. I can’t post this on my blog. Enjoy my recent take down of Philip Yancey.

Popular Christian author Philip Yancey confesses an 8-year affair and quits “his ministry.” Meanwhile, his traumatized wife vows to stick with him.

Philip Yancey Confesses 8-Year Affair

A bunch of you sent me the Jesus cheater news that a popular Christian author (whom I’ve never heard of) and Bob Ross look-alike, Philip Yancey has left public life after confessing to an 8-year affair with an as yet unnamed married woman.

The details seem pretty scant. Yancey just announced his regrets about his wandering dick. His wife made a companion announcement that she’s traumatized. And I was going to snark about his awful perm. I mean, WTF is going on with his hair?

Tracy, Philip Yancey is a best-selling author and spiritual leader. And you want to get sidelined about his hair?

Yeah. Does he use volumizer? This hairstyle hasn’t been popular since the late 1970s and I think it was mostly gay porn stars and Bee Gees. It’s just such a weird Richard Simmons do. And he really leans into it. Which I suspect is intentional. It’s a very Leo Buscaglia, chamomile tea, I come in peace and a sweater vest, gentle guy kinda vibe.

The sort of man you’d never suspect of a double life.

Because he’s just so gosh-darn nice. Philip Yancey is not a flamboyantly pervy Southern Baptist like Jerry Falwell Jr. having a three-way with the pool boy. No, Philip Yancey is a stealth Jesus cheater. A fly under the radar guy who makes pleas for civility in political discourse and thanks his wife for seeing him through his prostate surgery. (Narrator: He was cheating on her.)

Oh, and he was cheating on her in 2023 when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s too. How humble, how spiritual he discusses his health struggles. You’d never imagine such a grateful, thoughtful man could abuse his wife.

You wonder if someone outed him, because all of a sudden he’s sorry.

Christianity Today reports:

Christian author Philip Yancey said in an emailed statement to CT that he had engaged in an affair with a married woman for eight years and would retire from writing and speaking.

Yancey started his writing career in 1971 at Campus Life magazine, which became a part of CT a few years later. He wrote for CT for decades, reporting and later becoming a regular columnist and editor at large. His books, including What’s So Amazing About Grace?, have sold more than 15 million copies. He often wrote about faith in the face of pain and suffering.

Anyone else wonder about his wife’s pain and suffering?

Yancey, 76, has been married to his wife, Janet Yancey, for 55 years. He said he was sending the news “due to my longstanding relationship with CT” and continued:

To my great shame, I confess that for eight years I willfully engaged in a sinful affair with a married woman.

My conduct defied everything that I believe about marriage. It was also totally inconsistent with my faith and my writings and caused deep pain for her husband and both of our families. I will not share further details out of respect for the other family.

Eight years isn’t ‘an affair’ -- it’s a full-blown double life.

It’s practiced deception. Every day is a high wire act of fraudulence. You cannot unknow this about a person. Yeah, but he’s not sharing details out of “respect for the other family.” Dude, you f*cked this man’s wife for EIGHT YEARS. You have ZERO respect for that family. You only care about your reputation and not being called to account with questions.

Also, what a WEIRD choice to lead with that husband’s pain. YOUR WIFE IS IN PAIN. That chumped guy can divorce his cheating wife. It’s none of your business and he doesn’t give two flips what you think about his suffering. I wonder if the chumped husband didn’t threaten to expose the affair. Thus, Yancey’s sudden interest in his pain.

I have confessed my sin before God and my wife, and have committed myself to a professional counseling and accountability program. I have failed morally and spiritually, and I grieve over the devastation I have caused. I realize that my actions will disillusion readers who have previously trusted in my writing. Worst of all, my sin has brought dishonor to God. I am filled with remorse and repentance, and I have nothing to stand on except God’s mercy and grace.

I, I, I, I, I. God forbid your readers come away disillusioned. Again, what a weird emphasis. YOUR WIFE TRUSTED YOU. Who CARES if your author brand is tarnished? I realize you haven’t completed those professional accountability programs yet, but focus on caring about your WIFE APPLIANCE.

I am now focused on rebuilding trust and restoring my marriage of 55 years.

Real humility wouldn’t assume you have a marriage to come back to.

‘I am therefore retiring’

Having disqualified myself from Christian ministry, I am therefore retiring from writing, speaking, and social media.

Instead, I need to spend my remaining years living up to the words I have already written. I pray for God’s grace and forgiveness—as well as yours—and for healing in the lives of those I’ve wounded.

Forgiveness out of the starting gate. Of course. I mean, you haven’t even started the professional counseling and accountability 101 program yet! And you’re skipping ahead to graduate level forgiveness? I thought you were a deep theological thinker. We’re going to slather some “grace” on this mess and pronounce it all good?

Yancey also provided a statement from his wife:

I, Janet Yancey, am speaking from a place of trauma and devastation that only people who have lived through betrayal can understand. Yet I made a sacred and binding marriage vow 55½ years ago, and I will not break that promise. I accept and understand that God through Jesus has paid for and forgiven the sins of the world, including Philip’s. God grant me the grace to forgive also, despite my unfathomable trauma. Please pray for us.

Janet, your marriage vow isn’t binding. Your husband had an 8 year affair while you nursed him through cancer and Parkinson’s. He broke the vow. You’re not obliged to uphold a broken contract. Chumpdom is searingly painful enough without layering spiritual abuse on top of it. You owe this guy NOTHING. Not another day of your life. Or forgiveness.

I will pray for you, however. I pray you get free.

Before that live 65,000 square-foot-LED video display blessed its beam on former Astronomer CEO Andy Byron and his subordinate HR Chief Kristin Cabot all anyone seated nearby could see was a couple of lovebirds. Two middle-aged people groping and grinding each other like 8th graders. His hands on her tits, her hands grasping his hands on her tits. A performance that telegraphed to everyone: “Look what I have! We can’t keep our hands off each other. Such is the gravitational pull of our lust.”

Like many public displays of affection, it was kind of cringe. Okay, get a room, whatever. That is until….

The Jumbotron of Justice landed on them.

Busted! Hands off! Within seconds, they threw each other under the bus. She turns her back on him as he cowers under a seat, head down, revealing his male pattern baldness. One moment they want to be envied. The next moment they don’t want to be seen. It’s total consciousness of guilt.

Because, of course, they know they’re breaking the rules.

Had the Jumbotron of Justice not landed on Byron and Cabot, they could’ve continued to press their coworkers into an awkward conspiracy of silence and gaslit their spouses. But when your extramarital tit-grabbing is broadcast to an entire stadium — and now the whole world — there’s no plausible denial. No my-lousy-partner-drove-me-to-it narrative or the heart-wants-what-the-heart-wants bullshit to hide behind. No, just a cold bleacher seat. And everyone laughed.

Everyone laughed.

For chumps (what I call people who’ve been cheated on) — that’s what’s revolutionary. For one shining moment the cheaters were the objects of ridicule. No one was asking the betrayed partner what they did to be so unlovable, or what needs they weren’t meeting that drove their partner into an affair. No one was pressing an Esther Perel essay on them asking them to explore the shallow depths of infidelity. No, cheating was the punchline. Two vainglorious nitwits caught in flagrante with double lives. Public sympathy is for those poor kids and the unknowing spouses.

A guy stupid enough to throw himself on the ground AS IF he could avoid a Jumbotron is not a prize. A woman who fucks her boss is not a prize. Thanks to that fateful Coldplay concert, two bozos have zero game. There’s no hope of goading their unfortunate spouses into a contest for their affections. For any other chump it would be: Try harder! Win me back! Send a therapist $399 for the online course to affair proof the marriage!

But no. Everyone saw how craven, how worthless these two people are. As evidenced by Byron’s wife immediately ditching his name, and Astronomer accepting Byron’s resignation.

Sure, such a public comeuppance is a chump revenge fantasy come true, but why does it resonate for others?

My theory is everyone is sick of fuckwits.

We live in the Golden Age of Rules for Thee and None for Me.

Which is what cheating is. You invest in me, chump-o and I’ll feign a commitment I have no intention of honoring. I, the cheater, have the power to unilaterally change the terms that we all agreed to. Because I matter more than you do. It is Good to Be King.

Cheaters are just dime-store despots.

And the modern world abounds with these fuckwits. From our president ignoring the rules set forth in the Constitution, to an unelected Elon Musk deciding he can shit-can entire government agencies, to Jeff Bezos invading the island of Venice for his lavishly catered farce — we’re sick of the entitlement. Tired to death of the lopsided investment of give, give, giving so a billionaire gets a tax break.

All these creeps think we aspire to be them. Hands on their tits. So lucky! So chosen! So above it all!

Until the big Jumbotron of Accountability lands.

This is another letter that was censored by Google (via my ad network) at the ChumpLady.com site because it discusses sex addiction. Yes, even from a victim advocacy standpoint. If I’m feeling paranoid about the patriarchy, probably because I was writing from the victim advocacy standpoint. I’m moving all offending posts to Substack.

Anyway, I don’t think the issue is porn as much as it’s fuckwits. Do you want a partner who is checked out for a fantasy? Do you want to pick me dance with pixels? Read on…

Dear Chump Lady,

I asked my porn addicted husband to leave 4 months ago.

He is living in our RV a few miles from the house. I have been a chump for 8 very long years and now I find myself in a terrible position. When I married him 14 years ago, I thought I had vetted this guy well. I was a divorcee with an alcoholic ex and a 4 year old son.

We dated for two years and I had to get an annulment so we could marry in the Catholic Church. I asked all the right questions. My mistake was believing him. I even asked about porn and he assured me that he found porn disgusting and would NEVER hurt his wife that way. He came from an intact family, mom and dad well liked and very involved with the church. I got my annulment and we married. I agreed to quit my career and stay home to raise my 4 year old. We had 4 children over the next 6 years.

I caught him masturbating to porn when I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with child #3. He swore it was stress and his first time and he was sorry. He went to the priest and confessed his sins. Hmmm. Then of course, I caught him again and again and again.

I went through the "oh honey let me help you" stage. The take the kids and leave for a week stage. The throw the computer out and get rid of cable stage. The screen EVERY SINGLE movie we rented for nudity or sexy scenes stage. The acting like a hooker in the bedroom stage. And on and on it went until I read every Patrick Carnes, Schaumburg, Marsha Means book available.

I told no one. I kept it as my shame and secret.

God knows I tried to help him to stop. But, in the end this old girl could not look like a Nympho Teen. Or a Slutty Teen. Or a beautiful 16 or 17 year old girl. I was not enough. He has never admitted to anything physical, but my instinct says different. I always caught him. Then he would "try" recovery.

I am 53 and have 5 children, 4 of whom are still at home and I am homeschooling them. I have not been employed in the workforce for 14 years. The last time I caught him, I told him he would have to leave. He was a police officer and within two months lost his job. We now have no health insurance and I doubt he will be able to get a job as an officer again. He has not been very forthcoming about why he lost his job after 5 years of decorated service and a promotion to detective. But I can make an educated guess.

My question is this: I realize that all of you have had husbands or wives who have had physical or emotional affairs. But this porn feels just as bad I think. I am so hurt and I do not love him anymore and have told him that. I have told him I will NEVER live with him again, but he comes over 3 times a week to eat dinner that I cook, with the kids. So I have to sit there and eat the shit sandwich and smile while my kids are so happy to see daddy.

I still am a chump.

I can't divorce because he has no job and no way to pay child support. So, I walk around like a zombie. I love my children and do not want them hurt. I believed him everytime he said he would change. What to do? How do I stop with the hopium? How do I extricate myself from this man? He says he will NEVER give me a divorce. I would have to rely on the state legal aid to try to get a divorce. I have no family here.

As a side note, his father has been found to have been molesting three of my husband's sisters' daughters. This shit runs in the family. His mom knew, just never said anything. Am I wrong for feeling like this porn addiction is infidelity? He says it is not infidelity and that he loves me and that I am his "soulmate" and he will never let me go. Then he says there are two sides to him -- the good guy and the "deceiver." And he has lied so much to me I can't believe anything he says, but he brings me hot coffee in the morning and my favorite sandwich for lunch.

He makes me sick.

Why am I stuck being a chump? I am trying to get away but I can't seem to get out.

Hopeless Chump

Dear Hopeless Chump,

Let's put aside the porn question for a moment and start with the four-alarm fire of Grandpa is a child molester. Secret sexual basements (see the work of Dr. Omar Minwalla) seem to run in the family -- and that is ENOUGH to run screaming for the hills. Get your kids some therapy now -- direct yourself to local social services, whatever you have to do. Find out if they've been abused by their grandfather and get them some help, ASAP.

It seems to me that your husband liking to jerk off to pictures of 16-year-old girls is not a coincidence. You were a vulnerable single mom when you met him? And now you've got five kids? And he grew up with a child molester for a father? I don't like this fact pattern one bit.

The behavior you're describing sounds dark and compulsive and you've given this guy umpteen chances. It doesn't sound as if you feel safe with him, understandably with the mysterious job loss and porn obsession that interferes with his ability to be a normal partner.

Make an escape plan with the help of a professional.

Your economic vulnerability is a solvable problem. Making your husband someone you could ever feel safe with, is not. Please reach out to support services to help you make an escape plan.

He doesn't control you divorcing him. He can express his displeasure to the judge. Sure, he can try and make things difficult, which is why you don't tell him what you're doing -- you just DO IT. I'm sure whomever awards custody would be interested to hear about his compulsive sexuality and Grandpa's molestation. Demand custody and supervised visitation.

After that -- quit homeschooling. You need to free yourself up to get back in the workforce. And if the kids need counseling, the best place to get it might be the school counselor who can make referrals and set something up. Especially with this drama and dad in the RV, the kids need a safe haven that isn't home life. And you need the independence that comes with a job.

Is porn addiction infidelity?

Now to the question you wrote me about. It doesn't matter what I think about porn addiction as infidelity, or science thinks, or Christian evangelicals think, or charlatan sex addiction therapists like Patrick Carnes think -- what matters is what YOU think. If this is a deal breaker for you, then it's a deal breaker for you. You're not compatible. Your values don't match. He's not the man for you. Look, he's not the man for ANYONE seeing as he's very fucked up and admits to being a "deceiver." So start putting a plan in action to divorce.

I don't feel qualified to give you my opinion of porn, because I'm a middle-aged woman and I still think of Playboy magazines. Looking at salacious pictures isn't cheating IMO. I think for some people it spices up their sex lives, and some folks are more wired to be turned on visually. I worry about shaming people about sexuality or masturbation, which is totally healthy and normal.

When porn is a problem...

However, the accessibility, affordability, and anonymity of porn have radically changed in the Internet age. This is an enormous topic -- what porn has done to how we have sex, how women feel they need to conform to some hyper-sexualized ideal, and what that means for human intimacy.

Computer images don't have feelings. Or needs. A real flesh and blood woman in a pick-me dance with 24/7 porn is not in a fair fight. It's an absurd competition.

And this relationship, like any relationship with a cheater, doesn't bring out your best self. When you find yourself policing your partner's behavior (wrangling where the dick is today and what it's up to...), it's over.

Who wants a porn addict as a partner?

So why should any woman compete for the dubious honor of a porn addict's attention? Don't we deserve better than a partner who goads us into competitions? Whether with flesh and bone affair partners, or pixelated ones? A porn addict prefers sex without intimacy. Escapism over real life. It makes total sense to reject these people as partners. Heck, they don't have the raw materials to be partners.

And I hope this goes without saying, but if the porn is child porn? If the fetish is underage girls and boys? You call the cops. Period.

(If anyone wants to jump on me for civil liberties and presumed innocence -- I'd prefer to let the law enforcement professionals make that call. My sympathies are with the victims of sex trafficking and sexual abuse.)

Hopeless Chump, your situation is not hopeless, it's just hard. Please take the first step -- call legal aid -- and get on the road to your new life.

I always wonder what the monogamy-challenged see in marriage. But I think the answer in Lauren’s case, beyond lavishly catered parties, A-list celebrities, and bling, it’s a chance to showcase her boobs. To hydraulically lift them into a dizzying assortment of evening gowns. And what better backdrop for impression management (I’M A WIFE NOW, NOT A SIDE CHICK! ) than Venice.

The grandeur, the gondolas, the screaming peasants launching effigies of your beloved fiancee into lagoons. Lauren Sanchez’s boobs have arrived.

Lauren Sanchez’s boobs

Lauren Sanchez's boobs attended a White House dinner this week. Ostensibly, this event was to welcome the prime minister of Japan to Washington, D.C. during cherry blossom season. The actual star of the show was Jeff Bezos's mistress's décolletage.

Vacuum-packed into a red-lace couture corset from Frederick's of Hollywood, Lauren Sanchez's boobs were unavailable for comment, as they were slowly suffocating. However, their spokesperson, Lauren Sanchez, said via Instagram "Can't wait to show you more tomorrow."

More?

How much more do we need to see, Lauren? Are the girls having a coming-out party?

Avert your eyes! That bodice could explode at any moment! Nothing but a clenched fist on a granite countertop holds back our innocence.

Tracy, I can't handle this much boob-age before breakfast.

I'm sorry, Lauren Sanchez's breasts demand your full attention.

Were there other guests in attendance, such as the President of the United States, Robert DeNiro or Mr. Thingamawhozzit of Apple computers? No. There was only Lauren's knockers. Boobs of such magnificence they created a path of totality.

Were you a lesser being eclipsed by Lauren Sanchez's boobs? Accept your obsolescence. We can't all dress like tarted-up Renaissance Faire wenches or Miss Kitty's latest backroom saloon recruit.

Who wore it best? Miss Kitty or Lauren Sanchez?

Why are you being so mean about Lauren Sanchez?

Can't the Other Woman make a fashion gaff now and then? Just because she sucks the dick of the patriarchy doesn't make her a bad person.

I'm giving Lauren Sanchez the attention she so desperately craves. Imagine the pick me dance that woman must live daily to keep the attentions of human dildo Jeff Bezos. If she injects anything else into her body, we'll have a silicon shortage.

Poor Lauren won him, now she has to keep him.

Meanwhile, MacKenzie Scott is somewhere in sweatpants giving away billions to charity living her best life. #TeamMacKenzie

Hi Chump Lady,

I (29F) am about 2 months out from D-Day, separated from my husband of three years, and your blog and book have been really helpful in helping me process things.

We are going through a divorce and while I am definitely not ready for someone new now, I am hopeful for the future. The thing is, I am terrified that the same thing will happen to me again. My fear comes from how my husband was when we first met.

He SEEMED wonderful: thoughtful, considerate, kind.

Like he was reciprocal and in a lot of ways did more for me than I did for him. He always let me go on his phone and laptop. He was good with his time and gave me a lot of attention. And, he went above and beyond for both his family and mine. This was true even during our marriage. We spent all day texting while we were at work and spent our evenings/weekends together.

The entitlement didn't start to show its ugly head (at least to me) until maybe a year ago in various ways. And then 2 months ago I found out he had been seeing prostitutes throughout our marriage (maybe even before, who knows).

I now trust that he sucks 100%. But if you had asked me 2 months ago, I would have comfortably bet my life he wasn't capable of cheating.

Do you have any advice for fixing a picker or seeing through the bullshit when someone seems like a good partner/person? I'm scared about investing time or even getting married again, just for the ugliness to come out later on like it did with my FW.

Sincerely,

Hopeless Romantic

Dear Hopeless Romantic,

Intimacy makes us vulnerable. That's the dark side of loving anything. So, no, I don't have a guarantee against heartbreak. Going forward, there's only your boundaries -- what's acceptable to you -- and your resiliency.

You control what you accept, and I applaud you for ending the marriage.

It might feel like the inevitable conclusion, but I'm sure other women have discovered their husbands see prostitutes and stayed. Not because it was acceptable to them (I'm a huge skeptic of "tolyamory"), but for economic vulnerability or cultural messages that buying sex workers is Just What Men Do. And we must eat the shit sandwich because Jesus thinks we're a failure if we divorce, so some other such bullshit.

But you rejected that, so good on you. Now you're worried about the next one...

What are the odds a guy will hire a sex worker?

Startlingly, there's not a lot of data on this. The most recent study was over a decade ago, which reported that 14 percent of men will pay for sex in their lifetime, but only 1 percent had bought sex that year.

"While it is noteworthy to recognize that the 1 percent of adult men who paid for sex in 2010 still result in a large number of customers, there is no credible evidence to support the idea that hiring sex workers is a common or conventional aspect of masculine sexual behavior among men in the United States," study researcher Christine Milrod, of the University of Portland, said in a statement.

My inbox begs to differ. But I hope we can safely say that this is a minority of men.

This part interested me, however.

The super misogynists who make a hobby of this tend to be privileged men with incomes and entitlement issues.

More distinct characteristics, however, emerge among avid customers of prostitutes who self-identify as "hobbyists" and post on message boards that review call girls. A survey of men in this online community revealed that a substantial portion of them are married, white, earn over $120,000 per year, have graduate degrees and think about sex more (and feel less guilty about it), compared with other groups of men, including those who have been arrested for hiring prostitutes on the street.

Men of this more privileged class that cruise the Internet instead of the sidewalks for sex also have different views about prostitution. Compared with men who have been arrested for soliciting a prostitute, the "hobbyists" are more likely to say that prostitution should be legal, that they would marry a prostitute and that prostitutes enjoy their work, the researchers found.

Anyone who thinks prostitutes enjoy their work needs to read Paid For by former prostitute Rachel Moran (who objects to the term "sex work" because it doesn't imply coercion). It's an absolutely sobering account of what it's like to be trafficked to service men.

How to avoid another John

I am definitely not ready for someone new now, I am hopeful for the future. The thing is, I am terrified that the same thing will happen to me again.

Be clear with your future partners how you feel about prostitution. And see if they share your values. Of course, people can lie, but I think there are many misogynistic tropes to watch for. The whole happy hooker narrative, entitlement issues around sex -- that sexual novelty trumps ethics, that if men don't get the kind of sex they're looking for they have a "right" to get it elsewhere.

You describe an agreeable man who paid you attention and gave of his time. But did he treat you with respect? Does he treat the women in his life with respect? Does he thrill to a power imbalance? You didn't give me enough data to go on. But here's what buying sex says to me:

• He's okay having sex with someone who has zero attraction to him.

• Purchasing people and reviewing them like Amazon purchases doesn't bother his conscience.

• He's okay risking your health to get his dick wet.

Real men, who love women, respect women.

It should hurt him to hurt you. That's the baseline for any partner -- your welfare matters. I know you trust that he sucks, but going forward hold the bar high.

I now trust that he sucks 100%. But if you had asked me 2 months ago, I would have comfortably bet my life he wasn't capable of cheating.

You can only know about as much of a person as they will reveal. You didn't make a mistake -- he deceived you. Sure, the gift of chumpdom is discernment -- we learn from this shitshow, but we have to be careful not to tip into victim-blaming. Oh, if only you'd seen the signs! He kept his secret sexual basement SECRET for a reason -- it preserved his entitlement.

Tracy, this is not a warm, fuzzy endorsement of future happiness.

I don't believe all future partners suck. I don't believe you need to be partnered to be happy. There are many, many different ways to build a life.

I'm scared about investing time or even getting married again, just for the ugliness to come out later on like it did with my FW.

Grab life by the curly shorthairs. It will be okay. You only control your side of the investment. I have two "failed" marriages and I didn't die. In fact, the older I get the prouder I am that I walked away from those two fuckwits. It took guts. They didn't value me and I knew I deserved better.

Today, I have better. And I don't just mean Mr. CL. I have better clarity about my self-worth. And that's what I wish for you -- better clarity about your self-worth. You just rejected a man with a double life. That's an excellent start. I wish you a lifetime of high standards and better company. Big ((hugs)).

But one young boy, Christopher, was a bully. He had perfected cruelty and social ostracism. “Amanda stinks! Everyone! Let’s not talk to Amanda!” It wasn’t just that the kid was a jerk, he was a holy terror. And every time I hosted the playgroup, I had to do the Christopher calculus. How much should I parent another person’s child in my home? (Answer: don’t try that shit here.)

Unfortunately, Christopher’s mother was completely oblivious to her darling son’s behavior. She didn’t rein him in, or make him apologize. In fact, she prided herself on her enlightened parenting. (I turned down the invitation to her “chicken pox party.” She was also the first anti-vaxxer I ever met.) Confronted with some act of her kid’s sadism, she wouldn’t take away the stolen truck Christopher was bludgeoning his victim with. Instead, she’d attempt to engage him in a conversation about his “feelings.”

All of this drove me nuts. I immortalized this mom in my first published cartoon “Playgroup Mommies from Hell.” (“Bryson knows 500 vocabulary words and enjoys a good organ fugue. How many words does your child know?”)

These awful people came to mind recently. Once, Christopher’s mother seemed like she was finally, FINALLY going to discipline that kid. Interrupted from a self-congratulatory monologue about breastfeeding, she heard Christopher threatening to shoot his playmates.

She sprung up from her chair, grabbed her son, and scolded:

“Christopher! We DO NOT SAY ‘GUN’!”

This is the exact absurdity I am living with at this moment.

Forget the context. If we make words the problem, we don’t have to look at actions.

After deleting over a hundred posts from my ChumpLady.com blog because Google complained about “dangerous and derogatory” language, they came back this week to demand that I moderate my comments for naughty language as well.

To give you an idea of the Sisyphean task this is, there are over 600,000 comments on my 13-year-old site.

Someone kindly posted the 900 banned words that Google filters for. So that I could add that to my WordPress filter. Or I could purchase the Orwellian-named WordPurify plugin which will helpfully asterisk out t**tyf***ker.

My life has become a bad George Carlin skit.

So what if there are Christian therapists shaming women to stay with cheating husbands by calling them “intimacy anorexics.” The real problem is you wrote “sex addiction.”

Is some poor woman missing her retirement savings because her husband has a hooker habit? Don’t say “hooker habit.” Or massage parlor. Or sex worker.

Are you grief stricken and furious to discover your partner’s double life? Don’t cuss.

It’s not what anyone did, it’s your reaction to it.

So, when Christian sex addiction therapist Doug Weiss got divorced it caused quite a stir. Especially how quickly he remarried a wealthy televangelist widow. And not much was written about it, so my blog ChumpLady.com got a lot of hits. In fact, it was my number one hit on Google, until I got the diktat from Google (and my ad network at the blog) that I could no longer write anything about sex addiction. Or the women harmed from its bogus therapy methods.

Which brings us to today’s reissued Dangerous and Derogatory post.

Sex addiction therapist Doug Weiss gets divorced

An alert chump sent word that Douglas Weiss announced his divorce. Which of course sent me down a rabbit hole of "Who is Douglas Weiss?" Well, I don't really keep up on the goings on of Christian celebrity therapists quacks.

So many unicorns, so little time.

What a very interesting little hole that was.

Dr. Douglas Weiss is a psychologist and the founder of Heart to Heart Counseling Center, which specializes in the treatment of sexual addicts, intimacy anorexics and their spouses. He has counseled with sex addicts and their partners for almost three decades. Heart to Heart Counseling Center maintains weekly 3 and 5 Day Intensives that couples fly in from all over the world to attend, dozens of weekly groups, hundreds of weekly appointments with 16 counselors on staff. Dr. Weiss personally continues to provide 5 Day Intensives at the Center. Dr. Weiss has been in recovery for over 34 years, he and all of the counselors at Heart to Heart verify their sobriety with regular polygraphs.

Dr. Weiss has authored more than 40 books and offers 30 therapeutic DVDs for men, women and marriages. He is proud to be the first author to write a book for the partners of sex addicts.

Dr. Weiss was the first to coin the term Intimacy Anorexia which is the withholding of emotional, physical and spiritual intimacy in marriage.

I suspect only chumps are "intimacy anorexics." Blameshifting being the bread and butter of the Reconciliation Industrial Complex. Does your husband have a hooker habit? Hey, your Intimacy Anorexia caused it. (Previously in misogyny, we called this the "frigid wife.")

I can't believe this guy is getting a divorce.

Hang on Doug, shouldn't you be sending yourself $399 for the cure? With all your youtube videos and weekly intensives, you couldn't save your marriage?

Yes, but what do his satisfied clients say, Tracy?

Here's a review of his services over at Sisterhood of Support (a post that’s since been taken down, a site for partners of "sex addicts." (A diagnosis that doesn't exist in the DSM, btw.)

Wow, Doug. What a ringing endorsement. How do I get on Dr. Phil? Or one of those Lifetime Specials?

If you Google around, you'll read he scrubs his reviews. I don't know if that's true, but at wellness.com, a couple people who paid for his costly retreats, tried to leave reviews, but oops, developer problem! when you try to read them. What a cowinkydince.

But wait, there's more. According to this site, his materials are promoted at some fake clinic looking for sexual assault survivors.

Steps to Sexual Health
Have you dealt with sexual trauma, abuse, or misuse? Steps to Sexual Health is a 10-part DVD series by Doctor Doug Weiss, Ph.D. that encourages sexual healing and healthy attitudes toward sexuality. Available in safe, confidential sessions for groups or individuals. Call or email Crossroads Clinic to book your session.

You know what you need when you find out you've been betrayed? Bedroom performance tips! That's what you need. Here!

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"ALL WOMEN NEED THIS," says Doug.
Really? Even the gay ones?
ALL OF YOU.
What about those of us living alone in a bunker full of cats?
ALL WOMEN.
What if you don't want a husband? Or if you have one, but he's presently engaged with 1500 hookers?
ALL WOMEN! Bow down! Suck!
And you're telling me Lisa got tired of you?
Funny how you need space and privacy to heal. But your clients need blameshifting and sex tips.
I'd love to know more, but won't ask out of respect NDA agreements.
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]]>https://chumplady.substack.com/p/chump-lady-uncut-dangerous-and-derogatoryhttps://chumplady.substack.com/p/chump-lady-uncut-dangerous-and-derogatoryTue, 13 May 2025 20:33:12 GMT
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I moved to Substack because I got in trouble.
I’ve been a potty-mouthed blogger for over 13 years, 10 of which I’ve been with an ad network and never a complaint about my content. Which is, essentially, an uppity woman (my alter ego Chump Lady) writing an advice column with the tagline “Leave a Cheater, Gain a Life.” 
But last week I got an ominous note from my ad network that I’d been reviewed by Google for “dangerous and derogatory” speech and they gave me a list of about 100 posts they wanted taken down. Posts like “The Biggest Lie I Was Told” or “How to Divorce a Narcissist” or “He Cheated on Me with Prostitutes.” 
Oh, and could I please remove the entire category of “sex addiction”? Even though I was writing from a victim advocacy standpoint. A lot of women write to me who’ve been harmed by sex addiction therapy. Shamed into staying with their “addicts.” Told they should spice things up in the bedroom to win him back. And not object if he relapses with sex workers. Because, hey, it’s an illness
Rejecting ‘Stand By Your Man’ Is Dangerous 
My most popular post, by far, number one on Google search for a while, was “Sex Therapist Doug Weiss Gets a Divorce.” A popular evangelical Christian therapist, Weiss who shames people for divorce, got one himself. And quickly remarried a wealthy televangelist widow. And he didn’t tell anyone for nearly a year. I snarked about his hypocrisy.
It’s two years later but Google wants that post removed now. Why, I have no idea. Apparently snark is offensive, but blaming women for their husband’s wandering dicks, and calling them “intimacy anorexics” is fine. 
A support site for partners of sex addicts, Sisterhood of Support, ran this review of Weiss’s services. (The original link was scrubbed. Maybe they got in trouble too?) 
"When I stated I was so devastated that I didn't want to have sex with my husband, he (Doug Weiss) told me that if I didn't have sex with my husband I would lose him. (I guess nonemotional, objectifying sex is okay with him."
"He said that I had full blown intimacy anorexia because I did not want to have objectifying sex with my husband after I found out that he had unprotected sex with over 1500 different prostitutes, my sister, his patients, gym members, nurses, drug reps, etc. ... and did nothing to rectify the marriage and lie, lie, lie."
I needed a place I could post uncensored content.
I removed that post about Doug Weiss from my blog. Because I run a support site and I keep it free. And ads pay my IT costs and me. People write to me everyday and say my online community and my book saved their life. 
It makes me uncomfortable when people say that. You saved your own life, I usually reply. All I did was validate your experience with the experience of a gazillion other chumps. I created a space where you could talk freely and curse and be angry, and no one is going to shame you for it. 
But now that safe space is under threat. Sure, I could exist without ad income, and figure something else out. But if I get shadow banned, not only will I not earn money from my blog, I won’t show up on searches either. (I’m waiting to hear my fate, while I’m under “review.”)
So here I am.
Fuck the gatekeepers. All the naughty posts will go here. And I’ll post new stuff too. My blog will remain (there are still thousands of other posts in the archives and I’ll keep answering letters.) But the uncut stuff I’ll publish here. We’ll start tomorrow with Doug Weiss. Thanks for following me over here. 
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