why we should forgive cheaters

because everyone makes mistakes, some just make them in someone else’s bed…

We should forgive cheaters.
Because they’re human. Because they’re flawed. Because none of us are saints. Because, supposedly, love is bigger than one betrayal, or at least, that’s what the books say. That’s what the therapists say. And that’s what I was told while sitting in a bathroom trying to breathe through a panic attack after finding her name in your phone.

We should forgive cheaters because people make mistakes. Because some mistakes are loud and stupid and devastating, but still mistakes. Because no one teaches us how to love cleanly. Because monogamy is hard and some people just crack under the pressure of being everything to one person forever. Because sometimes cheating is just a symptom of something else. Because sometimes they cheat and still cry when you leave.

We should forgive cheaters because we all want to be forgiven. For the ugly things we’ve done in the dark. For the lies we’ve told to feel safe. For the things we said just to win the fight. Because we all want to be seen as more than our lowest moment. Because we all want to believe that we are still lovable after hurting someone.

We should forgive cheaters because they didn’t know what they were doing.
Because they were lonely. Because they were drunk. Because they were insecure. Because they were “in a bad place.” Because they didn’t mean for it to happen. Because “it didn’t mean anything.” Because they came back. Because they swore it was only once. Because they looked you in the eye and said you’re the one I want.

We should forgive cheaters because holding onto anger is corrosive. Because resentment ages you. Because forgiveness is healing. Because being bitter makes you ugly and hard. Because “if you don’t forgive, they still have power over you.” Because healing requires softness. Because you want to be better than them. Because you want to be free.

We should forgive cheaters because everyone does it.
Our mothers.
Our friends.
Our aunties who call it “just a phase.”
The couples we grew up watching, where one always flinched at the other’s phone screen.
The love songs we dance to at weddings.
The sitcoms that taught us infidelity was just another punchline.
So maybe cheating is just... part of it.
Part of love. Part of history. Part of us.
And maybe forgiving cheaters is just another way of surviving the inevitable.

But here’s the thing:
Forgiveness isn’t always the destination.
Sometimes, it’s just another way to disappear the hurt.
To smooth over what should remain jagged.
To turn betrayal into something palatable, something poetic.

They didn’t trip and fall into someone else.
They walked.
They planned it.
They lied while holding a steady gaze.
They came home and kissed someone they had already chosen to betray.
That wasn’t a moment of weakness.
It was a decision. A performance. A cruelty rehearsed behind someone else's back.

And yet. Even after all that. Even after the logic, and the therapy, and the grace, even after the podcasts, the Pinterest quotes, the endless journaling on warped paper, even after the self-help mantras that say forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, some people still can’t do it.

Some people can’t forgive someone who looked at love and chose cowardice.
Who stood in the warmth of something rare and reached for cold.
Who let someone feel safe while setting the room on fire.

They can’t forgive the shaking hands. The silence. The excuses. The you have to believe me.
They can’t forgive what it stole, the way softness now feels suspicious.
The way trust turns into surveillance.
The way every question sounds like a trap because now, it is.

They can’t forgive the shrinking, how they contorted into something more pleasing, easier to love, quieter in their pain.
How they apologized for bleeding.

Of course, they want to be evolved. They want to take the high road. To bless and release. To rise above it like some ascended version of themselves, wise, radiant, untouched.

But the truth is:
Some people are still angry.
Still hurt.
Still grieving a version of themselves that didn’t know what betrayal felt like.

So no, for some people there is no forgiveness.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.

Not because punishment is the goal, but because forgiveness would mean erasing the self that loved fully and got gutted for it. Because forgiveness would require forgetting. And some things are meant to be remembered. Because it would mean letting go before the wound even scabbed.
Because forgiveness is not free, and it hasn’t been earned.

Some things shouldn’t be forgiven.
Some things should stay broken.
Some trust should never be rebuilt.
Some betrayals do not deserve redemption.
Some apologies don’t matter.

Let them live with that.
Let them rot in it.
Let the silence be the answer.

But yes, we should forgive cheaters.
Because they’re human.
Because we’re all flawed.
Because love is complicated.
Because healing matters.
Because they regret it.
Because they didn’t mean it.
Because it was just a moment, right?
And how cruel would it be to throw away an entire relationship over one little mistake?

How heartless.
How unevolved.
How ungrateful of the person who got betrayed, to expect loyalty in return for love.

Let them forgive.
Let them rise above.
Let them swallow it whole.

And let the cheater sleep soundly knowing they were never held accountable.
That love is just another thing people are expected to survive.

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