How Infidelity Lead Me To Womanizing
And how I found my way out
When men treat a woman like that of an object, it can be easy to write them off as a womanizer and call them a piece of S@!# without fully understanding what led a person to this point. I know this all to well because for a while, I was that guy.
I was a wrestler in high school. The love for the sport and everything it did for me was almost immediate. It was the healthiest way for me to channel my teenage angst and the ability to shake the opponent’s hand after the match was a true catalyst for sportsmanship. The challenge wasn’t just physical, but mental as well. The growth that came from the grueling practices my team had each day is something I still consider to be one of my greatest feats. The blood, sweat, and tears that I poured into those wrestling mats and in the room of hell will forever be engrained in my memory.
Around this point in my life, I was dating a girl who was my real first love. I recall admiring her from the distance, intrigued by the things I heard about her from mutual friends and teammates, but remaining steadfast in the thought she would never be into me.
After some time, I began to notice her making eye-contact with me, flashing an infectious grin, and turning away. That smile could have led me into all kinds of trouble and I would have gleefully obliged.
Though the lead up to our dating was nothing out of the ordinary for a couple dating in high school, our story is unique as our ‘breakthrough’ moment happened outside of school entirely. I remember going into the Harris Teeter near where I lived as it neared closing time on a Friday night while my twin and oldest brother waited in the car for me. The plan was to grab a few snacks for the road trip in store for the weekend; however, as I neared the checkout line, things grew a bit more interesting. Fate couldn’t have had it any other way as the register she was working was the only one open at the time. We both knew what was to come from that moment and neither of us had to say a word for it to be validated.
I was both excited and trembling at the same time.
I remember us making small talk and her bringing up that she recognized me from somewhere. I kind of giggled and said something along the lines of “Probably from seeing my wrestling.” She quickly responded with confirmation and asked how I was doing. The conversation grew from there.
As the early 2000s would have it (2005, to be exact), everyone had AOL instant messenger (AIM) at the time and it was common to ask for someone’s and add them. This was also the case for MySpace. We added one another on both platforms and struck up conversations that would go on until late hours in the night. Soon enough, she wanted to hang out and I, being head over heels for her, immediately said yes.
I can recall just how nervous I was that first time hanging out. No relationship or ‘flings’ I had experienced up until this point had prepared me for the feelings being around her gave me.
I was with my best friend, Wiggi, my twin brother, and a few other friends at a putt-putt on the far side of town around 7 pm on a Friday night. She showed up with one of her friends who could provide her legal transportation (we were all 15–17 so none of us drove). I remember seeing her getting out of the car and walking up to her — I could smell her perfume before I even hugged her. The typical first date questions flooded my mind: Do I hug the person? Do I shake their hand or just walk right over? I decided to walk over and initiate a conversation, allowing for a little space between us.
We ended up playing putt-putt while everyone else just kind of messed around the course. It was evident we were on a first date. We were both nervous and reserved, but willing to open up at the same time. As time passed, we became comfortable enough with each other to sit close to one another and share a plate of chicken tenders, fries, and a milkshake. I remember the moment we both got home, as we simultaneously hopped back on AIM and talked about how much we enjoyed our time together and agreed that we couldn’t wait to see each other again.
The dynamic of our first date and every conversation we had following that night quickly became the catalyst for a relationship to form. Pretty soon, we were sharing our first kiss, holding hands in the halls, and having friends in the same classes sending notes back and forth for us. We were official and it was very clear.
We did everything that a couple would do. Our connection was deep and the frequency of our intimate encounters reflected nothing short of that. It got to the point where we barely left each other’s rooms because, well… you know why. Things seemed to be going great until the end of the semester in June when I got a letter inviting me to an Olympic wrestling invitational at Appalachian State over the summer. This was my dream! I couldn’t believe I was given this opportunity.
My girlfriend was less than thrilled about this as it meant that we would be apart the entire time. She understood this was my dream and supported it. Her and my best friend saw me off as I loaded the charter bus later that month.
Being a part of this invitational was the time of my life. I was in the best shape of my life and wrestling with some of the greatest in the world. I couldn’t wait to come home and tell her all about it.
When I returned home, things seemed to be great. We were spending a lot of time together and things seemed to go back to normal, with my typical workouts starting back towards the end of summer with my high school team.
I remember receiving a call from one of my girlfriend’s friends, asking to hang out since he had just gotten back from boot camp for The Marines. I accepted and he drove us to the mall where we both grabbed Chinese food and talked. It was during this encounter that I figured out why he had chosen to randomly call me and invite me out for a bit. While outside for him to smoke, he told me that he felt bad that I was being lied to and that my girlfriend was hiding something very important from me: She had been sleeping with one of my closest friends.
Initially, I didn’t believe what he was saying to me so I decided to call my close friend (who was mentioned) and get his word on the matter. It didn’t take much bending for him to come out and apologetically explain to me what had been happening behind my back while I was away, wrestling and training. I heard the same exact story from two other friends, both of which had been near them during one of the times that this took place — in a motel room in the mountains. I was crushed. My next, and the certainly hardest part about all of this, was confronting my girlfriend. I remember calling and not being able to hold back my emotions, with a quivering lip and shaky voice, she knew something was up.
I knew there was no point in beating around the bush and so I flat-out asked her. “Have you been sleeping with….?” I was immediately met with pushback and implications that my question had been rooted in false accusations made by our friends who were supposedly “out to get her.”
Looking back, I can see how she spoon-fed me every lie because she knew I was wrapped around her finger.
No one could break that proverbial string either. After deciding to have the friends on the other end of the call, muted, I was quickly met with correction the moment they noticed I was beginning to fall for the lies, equipped with the witness testimony. After becoming extremely frustrated and feeling betrayed by me for having her on a third-party call, she hung up on me. This started to solidify a truth I didn’t want to believe. The truth was right in front of me, but I was putting off opening my eyes to it.
I remember a few days going by and the two of us not talking. One day, randomly, she shows up and has a talk with me. Towards the end of the talk, she starts to cry as she slid the ring off of her finger — the same ring that I had bought her with the money I saved up from cutting lawns that year and she tearfully confessed to the events of that summer. It didn’t matter anymore, because I was numb. It was in that moment that we said our final goodbye.
That experience was one of the most painful of my life — so painful it didn’t feel real. It took the rest of the summer for me to start to get myself together. I had become more cold-hearted than I had ever been in my entire life. Wrestling became my only focus. Early in the Fall semester of my junior year, I met a few friends that knew what felt like everyone in Charlotte. Shortly after, I started partying a lot. We would meet up on Fridays and find out where the parties were going to be and show up.
This is where my cold heart started to show itself.
I started to drink and would begin a phase of sleeping with countless girls, whom I had no prior history. This quickly became an often occurrence — one of which involved my infidelity towards a girl I knew was in love with me and became an unfortunate casualty to my unshakeable desire to somehow get back at my ex.
After we broke up, I stopped hanging out with certain people and I stopped going to parties. I stopped venturing on this new side of town that allowed me to forget about the ex that had crushed me. Following this, I grew a quick distaste for partying and the person it made me be. I was cold-hearted and isolated myself in the hopes being a loner would alleviate some of the dislike towards myself. I stayed on my dock fishing, away from all of the people my brother invited to party. I feared that I would do the same thing to more women if I were to be around them.
Sure enough, as fate would have it, I wasn’t done sleeping around and hurting girls.
Though many of my male friends would congratulate me on this less than desirable behavior, I honestly could not have been more sick of who I had become. I could not recognize the person I had become. Where did the loving, sensitive, nice young man go that I was so used to seeing when I saw my reflection? He was fading.
It wasn’t until my paw was met with a grave diagnosis that my focus completely changed. All that I cared about was him. I was fortunate to have 3 more years with him until he passed away. I learned a lot in those years together. I confessed to him the bad things I had done and how ashamed I was of my actions towards women and not respecting them. I confided things in him that I had never told anyone, and surprisingly he did the same with me.
Paw had convinced me that the person I saw myself as would continue to fade, and he always said the wisest things that have stuck with me. Regarding how to deal with the pain I had been dealt and how to healthily move past it, I would have to forgive my ex, and in turn, reach out to the women that I had wronged, especially the girl whose heart I had broken through infidelity.
I never anticipated the opportunity to forgive the ex who I felt sent me down a spiral of womanizing tendencies so I was surprised to find in a horrific twist of fate, the arrival of that moment. After being given the tragic news of her new boyfriend’s passing, I had a difficult decision to make — Do I let her receive the news on her own time or do I make sure it’s gently delivered by a familiar face?
I decided on the latter.
I asked to meet at her work to tell her — the intent being so she wasn’t alone in the moments immediately after. She agreed and after 4 years of not talking, I found myself in the parking lot of her work. I was let inside by one of the bouncers and suggested she sit down before delivering the news. She had the reaction many of us would — all sorts of emotions and the inability to return to work. She asked me to take her home. I agreed and waited in my car while she got her things together.
The drive was strange, long, and allowed for plenty of time for us to talk. I remember her bringing up the past and how ironic it was that I was the one to deliver her the news, eluding to the feelings I’d likely reserved for her regarding our past. I took this moment to forgive her. I remember telling her that we were young, human, and sometimes make mistakes. I told her there was no bad blood and in fact, as my first love, she would always hold a special place in my heart.
To this day, we still know one another. It’s been nearly a decade since we had that talk, but we both make it a point to reach out on occasion and see how each other is doing.
My hope for people to take away from reading this post is that you will be faced with hard times in life. It’s not what happens to you, but how you respond in these times, that will define that chapter in your life. The evidence shows how poorly I responded towards a heart-breaking chapter of my life early on. I handled things entirely wrong. I made it a point to hurt others and the success of this made me feel perhaps the worst I ever have.
I am grateful that forgiveness was given to me in all directions of those that I had dealt pain to in the form of meaningless one-night-stands filled with regret.
The next time that you experience pain from a person through a remark or a physical act, I encourage you to look deeper than that incident and try to understand what may have led them to that point. I am not saying that you disregard what they have done to you, but for understanding, it could mean the world to them and I believe that it may allow for closure to those people from having unresolved issues in their life. It could also be the difference in them hurting many more people before they realize what they are truly doing.
The things that people are capable of are both extraordinary and tragic.
It doesn’t matter which way we are affected by a person, we truly do not have a right to judge them, because we haven’t lived life from their perspective. Keep an open mind and an open heart. You never know, it might just save someone from doing something they’ll regret. Be kind and understanding, even when it is hard.
