So you’ve cheated on your partner. Should you tell them – or not?

You’ve cheated on your partner. You feel guilty, you’re struggling to keep it to yourself and you’re convinced that the only way forward is to come clean. But before you confess, there’s an uncomfortable question worth asking: are you telling them because they deserve to know, or because you want to feel better?

It’s a dilemma explored by author Kit Caless, author of Secrets: What We Hide and Why (free with audible), whose research into secrecy and relationships has led him to question some of our most deeply held assumptions about honesty.

When a confession is really about the person making it

Caless recalls an example from relationship therapist Esther Perel‘s work involving a woman whose husband had been repeatedly unfaithful throughout their marriage. He kept his affairs secret until his deathbed, when he confessed everything.

“Perel’s interpretation of that is, who is that serving? It’s only serving him because he wants to die absolved of his betrayals.”

His wife, meanwhile, was left with a completely upended understanding of their marriage, with no opportunity to talk through what she had discovered.

It’s a striking example of the potentially selfish motivations behind confession. We might tell ourselves we’re doing the right thing, but sometimes the desire to unburden ourselves can take precedence over the person who has to hear the truth.

“Let’s say you had an affair 15 years ago, you’re still married, and you’re happy in your relationship. You haven’t had an affair since, you haven’t even looked at another person. Then is it worth it?” He doesn’t offer a universal answer. Instead, he suggests considering whether the secret is affecting your wellbeing, your relationship or your sense of self.

“If you’re experiencing things like physiological symptoms, headaches, nausea, back pain, if you’ve got a bad prognosis on an illness, or if you’re finding yourself feeling really depressed, can’t get out of bed or super anxious all the time, and it’s the secret hat you feel is causing it, then the right thing to do is probably to disclose, if you can.”

He also has a particularly strong view about secrets rooted in shame. “Guilt is something you’ve done, and shame is something you are.” And when it comes to the latter, his advice is unequivocal: “If your secret makes you feel shame, then get rid of it.”

The difference between lying and simply not telling

There’s another distinction in Caless’s research that complicates the question of disclosure: the difference between actively concealing something and intending never to reveal it.

“Imagine you have cheated on your partner, and you haven’t told them, and on a birthday they tell you how much they love you and how brilliant you are, and what a wonderful person you are. And you’re thinking, ‘This isn’t real. If you knew what I had done, you wouldn’t be saying these words.'”

He describes this as a feeling of inauthenticity. He also distinguishes between being directly asked about an affair and denying it, which he calls active concealment, and never being asked at all.

“If they never asked you if you’ve had an affair, that’s not an act of concealment. That’s what you might call an intent to conceal: your intention is never to tell them, but you haven’t actually had to deny anything.”

If you decide to tell them, how should you do it?

For those who decide disclosure is the right thing to do, Caless has some practical advice. One suggestion is to avoid major occasions. Don’t reveal a family secret at Christmas, a wedding or a funeral, however tempting it might be to get everything out in the open while everyone is together.

“You might think it’s a good idea because all your family are there, and you can reveal the secret all at once. But actually, what happens is you get known as the person who ruined Christmas.”

Instead, he suggests an ordinary day, giving the other person time to absorb what they’ve been told. And once you’ve confessed, don’t disappear.

“The first thing you need to remember is that it’s probably not as bad as you think. And, you know, there’s that whole shame aspect, there’s a sort of sense of dumping a secret and then running off.” His advice is to “stay present” and allow the other person to ask questions.

He also distinguishes between what he calls detective questions and investigative questions. The former are about the details of the affair: how many times, where, and with whom. The latter are more searching: why did you do it? Did it mean something? Were you planning to end the relationship?

“If you can steer the conversation towards investigative questions, you’ll get more productive, something more productive out of the revelation.”

Everything everywhere all at once

There is one final warning from Caless about the temptation to confess everything once you’ve started.

He recalls his father, who worked in a highly secretive area of the Ministry of Defence, describing how people being interrogated would sometimes reveal the information being sought, then go on to disclose numerous other secrets that had nothing to do with the original questioning. “It’s like you unlock this box, like a Pandora’s secrets, and they all come spilling out.”

His point is that not every secret necessarily belongs in every conversation.

So perhaps, then, the question isn’t simply whether you should tell your partner you’ve cheated. It’s whether your confession is really for them – or whether you’re asking them to carry something you no longer want to carry yourself.

Words: Sally Saunders, Images: Shutterstock