The Reveal

Are there rules to revealing a cheating ex on social media?

Three weeks ago, I confronted my boyfriend about his repeated requests that we “find a time to talk.” These requests were never followed by any actual talk. We’d been together for three years by then. After his third futile attempt (“We still need to have that talk,” he said, cowering), I realized it was up to me to be the mature one. Again. The actual breakup was swift: “We’re moving towards different futures,” he said, and that was that. We shared a home and a dog. I asked him if he wanted me out immediately or if we planned to consciously uncouple. He encouraged me to take my time, hoping I’d stay in our dog’s life. Two days later, he started meeting strangers from Grindr for sex and lying to my face about it. Three days after that, he hosted an orgy in a hotel room. I had caught him cheating several times in the past. Each time I’d confront him, he’d lie. His evasion skills evolved alongside a growing hatred for me. When you’re living with a person you’re actively cheating on, you can either hate the person you’re cheating on or you can hate yourself. He chose to hate me.

I stood confidently in my power. I spent a few weeks grieving, journaling, meditating, while he continued to fuck away his pain. I got sober. Got back to the gym. Dormant creativity sprouted to life. Lost friendships reignited. I found joy lip-synching my favorite TikTok songs. What a thrill to be inspired again. One of my videos circulated widely on Facebook, where my ex’s mom, coworkers, and other immediate family members all saw it. Our mutual friends and countless strangers also saw it. I mouthed along to the lyrics of Punk Rocky by A$AP Rocky (“I thought you was the one. I guess you just the two. You want the last laugh? Look! Now the jokes on you!”) while I rolled around on my sister’s lush granite kitchen countertops. #ShootingStar, #CheatingEx, #GlowUp, and #WinningEra were among the hashtags. (Eternally grateful to my sis for a soft place to land.)

Soon after, I received a DM from a mutual friend. “Do Better,” the message commanded. This friend then unfriended me. Do better? My ex was the one who cheated. I stayed faithful. He immediately started screwing strangers while I was still sleeping in our bed! All I did was make a TikTok video to cope, to process, to heal. To empower myself after the trauma. I was flabbergasted. Do better?!? I instantly felt too vulnerable to post anything else. Sharing what happened in the public eye — my ex’s dysfunction — suddenly felt irresponsible, no matter how cathartic it was. I wasn’t doing it to be petty, and yet I felt immature. Whiny. But why? I didn’t cause his cheating. If anything, sharing the sordid details, even inadvertently, should have been empowering. So, what is all this guilt all about? Could I have done better? Is there such a thing as a moral high road when it comes to revealing a cheating ex on social media? 

Moving On Proudly

There’s only one rule when it comes to revealing — read: exposing — a cheating ex on social media: don’t do it.

You’re allowed to tell people the reason your relationship ended, MOP, because of course you are. Your ex cheated on you while you were together and didn’t have the balls to end things himself. While his post-breakup hookups don’t count as cheating — no one is required to be celibate in the wake of a breakup — if he was fucking other men in the bed you still shared while you tried to sleep, that was needlessly hurtful. If he was meeting up with men who were hosting, those hookups were none of your business.

You would’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell people why your relationship ended. You were a couple for a long time, and mutuals were going to ask why it ended. And when someone asked, MOP, you could’ve told them the truth face-to-face (or text-to-text): your ex cheated on you, and then, once it was over, he immediately started fucking his away his pain. Word would’ve spread quickly — people love to talk about other people’s breakups — and there’s a chance you would’ve been seen as the wronged party.

That was the high-road option, MOP, and you didn’t take it. Instead, you made a video of yourself writhing around on your sister’s lush (?) granite countertops. And then, after loading it up with accusatory hashtags, you posted the video on a platform where your ex’s family members and coworkers and friends were certain to see it. (Come on now, MOP: It was no accident that his mom saw it.) In addition to ceding moral high ground to your cheating ex when you posted that video, MOP, you ceded any sympathy that might have come your way. Because while cheating exes are bad, MOP, crazy exes are worse — and that TikTok video made you look the crazy ex. (I’m friends with some of my cheating exes. I’m not friends with any of my crazy exes.)

I’m not saying you are crazy — I don’t know you — all I’m saying is that video made you look crazy. And in addition to making you look crazy, that video made you look like you were trying to force people to choose sides. But unless someone is guilty of something truly heinous — and cheating you forgave while you were together and then attempted to weaponize after your breakup doesn’t clear the heinous bar — people who feel like they’re being forced to choose sides rarely choose the side of the person who’s doing the forcing.

P.S. You say you reconnected with friends after the breakup. If you checked in with friends before you posted that video and they didn’t immediately drive over to snatch the phone out of your hand, your friends failed you.

P.P.S. While it’s possible you were the more mature one in this relationship — anything’s possible — the guy posting lip-syncs to TikTok will always be perceived as less mature than the guy having orgies in hotel rooms.

P.P.P.S. Your ex may have gotten a little messy in a hotel room after the breakup. But his mess was private. You made your mess public. Another reason people are going to side with him — even if they were shocked to find out about the orgy and/or shocked to find out they weren’t invited to the orgy.

My husband and I have been married for eleven years, and four years ago he started seeing sex workers. He didn’t tell me for two years (and we were condom-less) and although I suspected something was up, I didn’t pry. When I finally convinced him to tell me WTF was going on, we decided to stay together and he now consistently goes to sex workers. (He goes daily, if he can.) We have sex about three times a week, which is about right for me, and I genuinely don’t want to see anyone else. (If he’s not around, sex toys are all I need.) At first, I asked for him to let me know when it was happening so I could regain trust that he would tell me things, but it felt like pulling teeth to me and like an interrogation for him. So, I dropped it, and we only talk about his “outings” if he brings one up. Recently, I spotted a condom in the car and asked if he had sex there. He avoided the question twice before finally saying yes. I think the closeness to “home”/”ours” and the fact that he avoided telling me made me feel uncomfortable with the whole business all over again. I can’t tell if it’s better for me just to stop asking questions or to ask myself if this is really working. I love being with him for so many reasons, but when something like this happens, it really hurts. What should I do?

Discomfort With Disclosure

How on earth can your husband afford to see a sex worker every day? If your husband spent two years getting $5 blowjobs from desperate drug addicts, DWD, you’d most likely have contracted a sexually transmitted infection from him during that time. So, I’m guessing your husband was seeing the kind of pros who can insist on condoms, DWD, and those women aren’t desperate and don’t come cheap. The financial drain alone is a reason to end this marriage. (If your husband isn’t made of money and you merged your finances when you married, DWD, you might wanna take a look at your bank statements, your retirement savings, and check your credit report.)

On to your question: What should you do?

Accept that your husband isn’t going to change, DWD, and decide if you’re willing to put up with his shit — shit that has only gotten shittier over time — for the rest of your life. He lied to your face for two years, cheated on you with countless women, and put you at risk. Now that everything is out in the “open,” he’s refused to honor his agreement to be transparent and dodges direct questions. It should be pretty clear at this point that he’s not going to change. So, you can accept him as he is — not saying you should, DWD, only saying you can — or you can leave him. What you shouldn’t do is deceive yourself about who your husband is. Screaming, yelling, and couples counseling aren’t going to change him. He will never be completely honest with you, he can’t be trusted to honor the boundaries you set together, and he’s most likely already fucked other women in your bed as well as your car. If you can live with that, you could stay. If you can’t, you should go.

I am a 58-year-old gay man. I am attracted to straight men that are dominant, muscular, and masculine. I love wearing women’s panties and acting very feminine in the bedroom. I have found a man that enjoys being with me and really likes our kinky play times. He gets turned on by the taboo nature of playing with a sissy in panties. He is in a relationship with a woman, so we only get together once every two weeks. He will probably end it soon. The problem is I can’t find any other men that enjoy this type of sexual play. It’s risky to make the first move with someone when I have such kinky habits and desires. Is there an app for me or some other way of finding a man that wants to explore this type of sexual play?

Sissy Is Seeking Someone Yummy

Got problems? Yes, you do! Email your question for the column to [email protected]!

Or record your question for the Savage Lovecast at savage.love/askdan!

Podcasts, columns and more at Savage.Love