A recent chance encounter with an old friend led to nostalgic gossiping, as it often does. This included remembering an affair among former mutual colleagues, which prompted reflection. Not so much about the well-worn themes of “Why People Cheat?” – I’ve watched enough of that to think I get the various motivations. More specifically we wondered about the role of the third party, and how he or she fits in. How she or he thinks, and how she or he is viewed by others involved.
Assumptions
I want to separate out some of the common themes that come up when thinking about affairs. So I’d ask you to assume (or at least trust me about) three things:
- I’d like to take gender off the table, if that is ever possible. There are plenty of important and interesting gendered themes when discussing affairs, but that isn’t what captivates me in this particular case. In fact, it is relevant to this point that, with my former colleagues, the individual having the affair was the wife. Or, even more to the point, that it is not relevant.
- Assume that we do not need to care about the “injured” party. How the affair impacts that individual is off the table. This husband was an ass; and one could make a case that he simply didn’t care. You can imagine him as abusive or withdrawn or also cheating or whatever. I promise I’m not asking for this assumption so that we can feel sympathy for “home-wreckers,” but to get beyond thinking about affairs from the perspective of the other spouse, and try to make sense of the relationship between those involved in the affair.
- Assume that the two married individuals either can not or at least will not divorce. Whether this is due to religion, money, children. Again, it doesn’t matter what specifically the reason is, just that this is the circumstance. Long-term changes are unlikely.
The Third Party on the Third Party
So in this situation, what motivates the third party to be involved in such a scenario? If this were a friend, we would tend to tell them that this is simply not a good idea, wouldn’t we? Haven’t most of us had this conversation? Or, let’s be honest, listened to someone else have it with us? Certainly the individual could just be interested in short-term sex, but does that ever really work? (Have romantic comedies taught us nothing?) Are they holding out irrational hope for a future? In a short life, are they not worried that they are spending limited time and emotional capital on an ultimately unavailable partner? Is that the point?
The third party that I knew, I knew well, but not that well. He knew that this was a mistake but couldn’t pull himself out of it. He ignored other possible relationships because they might interfere with his availability. Ultimately, his motivations were not that different from any motivations for a relationship: he enjoyed the human contact, comfort, and energy that came from this woman. The long-term was too vague to interfere with the short-term glow that he had. And, don’t we all understand, the downsides were easily rationalized away. The highs of the roller coaster imprinting much more clearly than the lows.
The First Party on the Third Party
And this leads to what is particularly interesting to me. Given the above, how does this person having the affair rationalize it? Not rationalize what she or he is doing to the spouse, but what she or he is doing to the third party? In theory, this is someone that the first party has developed a strong emotional and physical bond with. A friend, a colleague, a lover. And yet, unlike the close friend who is saying “run away” this person does everything possible to pull the third party in closer. To actively limit the third party’s ability to grow and develop long-term meaningful relationships. I think of this in terms of spouses left behind during war as well. The spouse at home is lonely and needs support, but they must know that ultimately, even if the other spouse returns and never finds out, that in exchange for months of love and support, the paramour will receive nothing more than emotional pain. (If you just realized that this is the second time I’ve made a point that can be illustrated by a Natalie Portman film, bonus points to you.)
It is no new interpretation to say the story of Dracula is ultimately a story about sex. An old man’s thirst for the young that is so overpowering that it literally drains the life out of her. And it is true that there is a Vampiric quality to so many affairs. (And this is also why the apparently mostly-sexless Vampire-lead of Twilight is so stupid.) Perhaps the first party’s needs simply require fundamentally ignoring the life of the third party. Blocking it out. Having just finished Gary Shteyngart’s Super Sad Love Story – which, like all of his books, I do not recommend – the main (unmarried) character’s internal need to provide provide oral sex for his much younger girlfriend was viscerally representative. It is not alone.
But people are not all vampires; are not all narcissists. It can’t be that everyone in an affair simply lives this disjointed life, psychologically ignoring yet attempting to satisfy the third party. How does the first party explain away the incredibly difficult and untenable position they are placing this other person in, someone they care about, often deeply? Is this why, in fact, so few affairs are true “love affairs” and why so many involve other benefits for the third party?
Distance and benefit?
The old, profoundly lame, joke is that men don’t sleep with prostitutes for the sex, but to get them to leave. I wonder if there isn’t something slightly deeper occurring here. Perhaps, the going away actually stands for limiting emotional connection in a way that helps the man rationalize his ultimate lack of availability to the third party. The first party feels that affection is being shown in the only ways possible.
We see this in mistress or cicisbeo culture as well. Or in terms of “sleeping ones way to the top.” Or so many celebrity affairs that are so well-publicized. The married individual can not provide the standard promises of a relationship, so other forms of benefit are substituted. Benefits that the first party can rationalize as a potentially fair substitute for a real relationship, either explicitly or implicitly. And in these cases, the third party can also sleep a little more soundly (on those nights when he or she is alone), knowing that the benefits are either a signal of promise or at least something that makes it all explainable, worth it.
Equally Unattainable
And perhaps this is why so many affairs involve situations where both couples are married or equally unattainable. Or why our shared anecdotes reference uncommon yet re-occurring events – reunions, conferences, etc. In these situations, life frames the expectations so narrowly that no one can have them. Or at least have fewer of them. Both parties are in both roles or the time-frame is so limited that the impact on the other’s emotional life is inherently limited. It’s a vacation from life instead of a part of one’s life.
In the story of my colleagues, the third party ultimately moved to another job across the country. The practical distance gave him the emotional distance he needed. He started a new life, a new emotional life. He is married now. Happily, last I heard.
