Many of us are in a life stage characterized more by “lasts” than “firsts.” We are working at our last jobs before retirement, occupy the last homes in which we will ever live, and might be in the last romantic relationships of our lives. It’s not so much that there are no remaining “firsts”, but there is little thrill in first social security check, or first colonoscopy.
When we sense Winter is coming, and Spring has passed, awareness of mortality triggers anxiety we didn’t experience in our youth. As we age, awareness of death increases in many ways, most powerful being the death of our parents who we once perceived as immortal. Aging also increases the possibility of illness sure to strip away protective layers of denial, and expose fragility.
As anxiety about the inevitable intensifies, we become desperate to turn back the clock in an attempt to recapture youth. It’s around this time cosmetic surgery is sought, or a new car is purchased, but for some, the illusion of reversing time is best created through new romance, maybe even through infidelity.
Because we are a species that relies on bonds with others, many people widowed or divorced in middle or late life stages seek companionship as part of a natural life course. But for others, stagnant relationships trigger fear that stillness allows death to catch us. Infidelity is then employed as a desperate grasp at what has been lost.
Infidelity creates the illusion of youth recaptured through the thrill of experiencing “firsts” once again. The rush of discovery often replaces relationship monotony to the extent reward justifies risk. More so, the thrill of a new sexual relationship replaces familiarity and predictability sometimes indicative of long-term relationships. What is risked is the loss of a relationship rooted in a bond forged over time, and intimacy that cannot be found through new sex.
Entering the new relationship restores belief in the mystical relationship that never grows stale, and in which time will stand still. The endorphin stage of relationships is characterized by feeling reborn and impervious to the perils of life. Secrecy inherent to infidelity creates a bubble in which time stops, and a return to the omnipotence of youth returns. In a relationship believed to be void of time and threat, death ceases to exist.
The forward march of time is inevitable, and there will come a day when new relationships become less available. Inherently problematic to the person who employs infidelity as a means to avoid death is an inevitable loneliness, and intimacy lost to an unwillingness to confront the mundane in a more adaptive way. For some reason, when monotony strikes, some people look outside the relationship instead of within it in order to find what the are looking for. For some, infidelity is a way to cope with a partner’s illness because recognizing vulnerability in a partner confronts us with our own.
Death anxiety is a powerful motivator that sometimes drives people to seek comfort from places in which there is no real comfort to be found. Should we allow ourselves to be trapped in a superficial world, we will be deprived of deep relationships necessary for us as social beings reliant on bond from birth. For some, the way to beat death is to deny it, and that denial often means escaping crisis through newness rather than confronting challenges with a bonded partner. Far too many people believe infidelity occurs in the absence of love, but it may be more due to the presence of fear.
When clients bring death anxiety to their sessions, I often ask them to visualize their death right through their wake and funeral. It’s uncomfortable, but what people imagine provides insight into their fear about death. Most of the time people fear a life void of meaning, an isolated death, and empty pews at their funeral. When we uncover that fear, we inevitably discuss the extent to which they have allowed for the kinds of relationships that would lead to a full representation of love and closeness at their death. In the end they realize what most gives life meaning is deep relationships.
What is also revealed through death anxiety is a person who is not living in the moment, and whose gaze is fixed on a future in which only negative outcomes exist. That conversation usually reveals fear of intimacy, and a refusal to allow for vulnerability in a relationship because vulnerability is viewed as a doorway to pain instead of closeness. In these cases, infidelity is a preemptive strike against emotional pain. unfortunately for these people, momentary pleasure is an investment with no return.
In a discussion about death anxiety, regrets are inevitably disinterred. There is discussion of goals yet to be strived for, chances never taken, opportunities missed. When people focus inward, they discover fears more indicative of living than dying, and within those fears exists the confounding fear of what we most crave, and need. When people realize real death is the extent to which we refuse to live, therapeutic breakthrough happens.
Infidelity is too often mischaracterized as an act committed by a “bad person”, or someone who is “weak” or lacks character. When I witness the extent to which people judge themselves harshly, I recognize there is little need for anyone else to judge. I am more curious about what makes certain options more attractive than others; what fear motivates behavior, and what thought processes drive action. When people allow their pretenses to be stripped away, and their genuine selves to be revealed, therapeutic focus is discovered. Usually, that focus entails finding ways to confront fear instead of using avoidance that often leads to reckless and destructive behavior. When focus is found, we discover all the ways to live well, which inevitably increases our chances of dying well.
