If someone is a friend, their wellbeing is your business. Telling them the truth of what you saw is protecting their wellbeing, not forcing them to do anything. It doesn't take away anyone's free will and passing along information is not the same as casting judgement on anyone. Of course it's complicated, but that complication is theirs to sort out--all you are doing is passing along info. That info gives the cheated party a choice that their partner was taking away from them--the choice to leave if they don't like what is happening. Without knowing the truth, they don't have that choice.
Since you are not monogamous, put it in another context. If a friend of yours realized you were being financially scammed, would you want them to just "mind their own business"? I personally care more about protecting my friend than protecting the privacy of the person who is hurting them.
Emma, I appreciate you offering a different take here. You raise excellent points - when we care about friends, it can feel like an obligation to inform them of anything that may compromise their well-being. And you're right - in many contexts, knowing vital information is critical for informed decision-making and protecting oneself. If I were being scammed financially, I would want a watchful friend to notify me.
However, romantic relationships involve a different level of intimacy and vulnerability; the bonds and betrayals there are emotionally charged in a way that money matters are not. So, while truth and transparency have their place - radical honesty can backfire when forced from the outside.
It's a fair critique that by not embracing monogamy myself, I have bias around consenting relationships operating by different rules. What constitutes "cheating" or betrayal differs widely across couples and their privately negotiated terms.
So perhaps the complication is not just for the couple to untangle themselves - as an outsider, I likely lack the context to discern what revelations would serve their foundation vs. unnecessarily rupture it. Each situation warrants its discernment.
I don't claim to have the answers here. But my instinct still leans against not intervening in others' intimate affairs. I don’t like it when others intervene in my intimate affairs. Have you ever argued with your partner when friends couldn’t understand why you forgave each other afterward?
Also, as adults, we must all take ownership of our choices and face the consequences. I can only act based on my values, not control others' behavior. And in this case, short of walking in on explicit betrayal, the truth likely has nuance and gaps I can’t understand.
At best, I may have a piece of a much larger puzzle between two individuals. So, from my limited vantage point, allowing their relationship dynamic to play out respects their agency and accountability. Inserting my judgment of right/wrong threatens to derail them only they can undertake themselves.
I cannot make choices for either of them or protect them from themselves. I believe that tolerating my discomfort around a perceived imbalance does not make me complicit. That blame rests squarely on whoever breaches agreements tied to their commitments. I never committed to anyone telling them everything I knew or found out about their lives.
By staying silent, I am not enabling secrecy per se but rather letting consenting adults work out matters of loyalty on their terms. If the situation involved a minor, things would be different. A relationship cannot be forced; it can only be inspired through inner motivations. So discretion remains the compassionate option, in my opinion.
Truth can be weaponized as easily as lies. There are often casualties, no matter which way the scales tilt. I prefer to focus care on support over judgment. But reasonable minds can weigh obligations differently.
I appreciate you offering thought-provoking counterarguments! You gave me more dimensions to ponder. This is the nuanced discussion I hoped to host around such thorny dilemmas. I appreciate you taking the time to write and comment. Thank you very much!
Emma, I kept thinking and came up with a situation where I would be ok with intervening. Rather than standing by silently or immediately informing the injured party in their relationship, another option exists.
You could reach out to the person who you believe to be unfaithful. Coming from a non-judgmental place of seeking to understand, not condemn, You could provide a compassionate sounding board.
Through this human-to-human connection, by listening rather than lecturing, insights can emerge organically about unconscious hurts driving destructive decisions - instead of seeming to inflict harm without purpose deliberately. Self-inquiry and reflection could inspire a redemption process respecting all agency and timelines within that relationship.
The outcome remains beyond my control and in the participants' hands, as it should be. Based on their growth and level of intimacy, I cannot compel confession on any timeline other than one the involved parties undertake. I aim to nurture personal accountability and greater alignment between values and actions. What do you think about this? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
You seem to be picturing this as some long conversation where you share all your thoughts about what you saw. But I've been in this situation and it wasn't like that. My ex-husband was cheating on me and I only found out because a friend of mine pointed out some pictures on someone else's FB. She didn't tell me what I should do or in any other way "intervene". It was just an, "FYI you might want to see this".
So that is the point where I actually had agency--because I had information. I had already "negotiated loyalty"--but he lied and I didn't know that. He was already violating the terms when he agreed to them. But I didn't know yet that he was a just a person who lied and cheated constantly. So I didn't have agency until I had accurate information, and he certainly wasn't going to give it to me.
I don't know if you're following the "Who TF Did I Marry" Tiktok thing, or if you've heard of the FB group called, "Are we dating the same guy?". It's wild out there and people can be very shady. Cheating is lying, so by definition the victim doesn't know it's happening. So this isn't the realm of personal growth and working out issues in a relationship, this is a situation where one person is deliberately harming another person. Being betrayed like that is traumatic.
But I will say that in practice, most of the time the way it plays out depends on who you were friends with first or are closer to. If you are friends with the cheater, chances are you will look the other way, and if you are friends with the victim, you will tell them.
I don't hold it against my ex-husband's guy friends that they didn't tell me he was cheating--they are his friends, not mine, and they would have been betraying him if they told me. But if a friend of *mine* knew and didn't tell me--they wouldn't be my friend anymore, cause what are friends for if they don't have your back.
So the only time this actually comes up as a choice is if you are somehow equally friends with both of them. In which case you have to decide which one you want to *keep* as a friend.
You make an excellent point that cheating by its nature involves deception, so the victim is unaware and lacking information that could empower their agency and decision making.
I also found your distinction thought-provoking regarding who you're closer to determining your responses. Maintaining trust understandably aligns with who your primary loyalty lies with in the scenario.
Once again, I'm appreciating this thoughtful dialogue. Your experience shows just how painful the relational impacts can be when caught amidst deception.
Losing friendships through this process left deep wounds for me too.
I grappled with conflicting loyalties - caring enough to share truth with my friend about their partner's behavior but also respecting my values. I believed allowing some time for potential resolution between them was warranted, though my friend understandably felt entitled to know earlier. So I held the information longer than they would have wanted before disclosing, at serious cost. I owned that I risked and ultimately lost my friend in order to follow my own conscience. In the end, their reconciliation prevailed, though our friendship dissolved. A sobering reminder that truth-telling asks much of both the messenger and recipient to find understanding.
If someone is a friend, their wellbeing is your business. Telling them the truth of what you saw is protecting their wellbeing, not forcing them to do anything. It doesn't take away anyone's free will and passing along information is not the same as casting judgement on anyone. Of course it's complicated, but that complication is theirs to sort out--all you are doing is passing along info. That info gives the cheated party a choice that their partner was taking away from them--the choice to leave if they don't like what is happening. Without knowing the truth, they don't have that choice.
Since you are not monogamous, put it in another context. If a friend of yours realized you were being financially scammed, would you want them to just "mind their own business"? I personally care more about protecting my friend than protecting the privacy of the person who is hurting them.
Emma, I appreciate you offering a different take here. You raise excellent points - when we care about friends, it can feel like an obligation to inform them of anything that may compromise their well-being. And you're right - in many contexts, knowing vital information is critical for informed decision-making and protecting oneself. If I were being scammed financially, I would want a watchful friend to notify me.
However, romantic relationships involve a different level of intimacy and vulnerability; the bonds and betrayals there are emotionally charged in a way that money matters are not. So, while truth and transparency have their place - radical honesty can backfire when forced from the outside.
It's a fair critique that by not embracing monogamy myself, I have bias around consenting relationships operating by different rules. What constitutes "cheating" or betrayal differs widely across couples and their privately negotiated terms.
So perhaps the complication is not just for the couple to untangle themselves - as an outsider, I likely lack the context to discern what revelations would serve their foundation vs. unnecessarily rupture it. Each situation warrants its discernment.
I don't claim to have the answers here. But my instinct still leans against not intervening in others' intimate affairs. I don’t like it when others intervene in my intimate affairs. Have you ever argued with your partner when friends couldn’t understand why you forgave each other afterward?
Also, as adults, we must all take ownership of our choices and face the consequences. I can only act based on my values, not control others' behavior. And in this case, short of walking in on explicit betrayal, the truth likely has nuance and gaps I can’t understand.
At best, I may have a piece of a much larger puzzle between two individuals. So, from my limited vantage point, allowing their relationship dynamic to play out respects their agency and accountability. Inserting my judgment of right/wrong threatens to derail them only they can undertake themselves.
I cannot make choices for either of them or protect them from themselves. I believe that tolerating my discomfort around a perceived imbalance does not make me complicit. That blame rests squarely on whoever breaches agreements tied to their commitments. I never committed to anyone telling them everything I knew or found out about their lives.
By staying silent, I am not enabling secrecy per se but rather letting consenting adults work out matters of loyalty on their terms. If the situation involved a minor, things would be different. A relationship cannot be forced; it can only be inspired through inner motivations. So discretion remains the compassionate option, in my opinion.
Truth can be weaponized as easily as lies. There are often casualties, no matter which way the scales tilt. I prefer to focus care on support over judgment. But reasonable minds can weigh obligations differently.
I appreciate you offering thought-provoking counterarguments! You gave me more dimensions to ponder. This is the nuanced discussion I hoped to host around such thorny dilemmas. I appreciate you taking the time to write and comment. Thank you very much!
Emma, I kept thinking and came up with a situation where I would be ok with intervening. Rather than standing by silently or immediately informing the injured party in their relationship, another option exists.
You could reach out to the person who you believe to be unfaithful. Coming from a non-judgmental place of seeking to understand, not condemn, You could provide a compassionate sounding board.
Through this human-to-human connection, by listening rather than lecturing, insights can emerge organically about unconscious hurts driving destructive decisions - instead of seeming to inflict harm without purpose deliberately. Self-inquiry and reflection could inspire a redemption process respecting all agency and timelines within that relationship.
The outcome remains beyond my control and in the participants' hands, as it should be. Based on their growth and level of intimacy, I cannot compel confession on any timeline other than one the involved parties undertake. I aim to nurture personal accountability and greater alignment between values and actions. What do you think about this? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
You seem to be picturing this as some long conversation where you share all your thoughts about what you saw. But I've been in this situation and it wasn't like that. My ex-husband was cheating on me and I only found out because a friend of mine pointed out some pictures on someone else's FB. She didn't tell me what I should do or in any other way "intervene". It was just an, "FYI you might want to see this".
So that is the point where I actually had agency--because I had information. I had already "negotiated loyalty"--but he lied and I didn't know that. He was already violating the terms when he agreed to them. But I didn't know yet that he was a just a person who lied and cheated constantly. So I didn't have agency until I had accurate information, and he certainly wasn't going to give it to me.
I don't know if you're following the "Who TF Did I Marry" Tiktok thing, or if you've heard of the FB group called, "Are we dating the same guy?". It's wild out there and people can be very shady. Cheating is lying, so by definition the victim doesn't know it's happening. So this isn't the realm of personal growth and working out issues in a relationship, this is a situation where one person is deliberately harming another person. Being betrayed like that is traumatic.
But I will say that in practice, most of the time the way it plays out depends on who you were friends with first or are closer to. If you are friends with the cheater, chances are you will look the other way, and if you are friends with the victim, you will tell them.
I don't hold it against my ex-husband's guy friends that they didn't tell me he was cheating--they are his friends, not mine, and they would have been betraying him if they told me. But if a friend of *mine* knew and didn't tell me--they wouldn't be my friend anymore, cause what are friends for if they don't have your back.
So the only time this actually comes up as a choice is if you are somehow equally friends with both of them. In which case you have to decide which one you want to *keep* as a friend.
You make an excellent point that cheating by its nature involves deception, so the victim is unaware and lacking information that could empower their agency and decision making.
I also found your distinction thought-provoking regarding who you're closer to determining your responses. Maintaining trust understandably aligns with who your primary loyalty lies with in the scenario.
Once again, I'm appreciating this thoughtful dialogue. Your experience shows just how painful the relational impacts can be when caught amidst deception.
Losing friendships through this process left deep wounds for me too.
I grappled with conflicting loyalties - caring enough to share truth with my friend about their partner's behavior but also respecting my values. I believed allowing some time for potential resolution between them was warranted, though my friend understandably felt entitled to know earlier. So I held the information longer than they would have wanted before disclosing, at serious cost. I owned that I risked and ultimately lost my friend in order to follow my own conscience. In the end, their reconciliation prevailed, though our friendship dissolved. A sobering reminder that truth-telling asks much of both the messenger and recipient to find understanding.