Can a Relationship Survive Infidelity?
- Sarah Biren, LSW
- Jan 7
- 8 min read
By: Sarah Biren
Infidelity. Cheating. Affair. Adultery. Betrayal.
No matter what you call it, it hurts.
If you are here, maybe the question of survival has become more than hypothetical. Maybe you’ve been cheated on. Maybe you’re the one who cheated. Maybe you both crossed different lines in different ways. Maybe the rupture is fresh. Maybe it happened years ago and you’re still trying to make sense of it. Maybe no one else even knows it happened, and you’ve been carrying the weight of it alone and turning to this blog in search of a little clarity, hope, or just a place to start.
Wherever you are, know this: healing is possible.
And, you are not alone.
This blog is not about finger-pointing or shaming. It’s not about villainizing the partner who crossed a boundary, nor is it about glorifying the one who was hurt.
This is also not intended to be an ultimate prescription or exact guide on how to approach infidelity.
What follows just scratches the surface of the much deeper question that so many partners quietly wrestle with: Can a relationship survive infidelity?
Relationships are rarely black and white, and infidelity, as painful and personal as it is, often lives in the grey. Infidelity is not just one story. It’s a thousand different ones, each with its own messy, complicated truth. There’s simply too much nuance for any one-size-fits-all solution. What’s right for some partners might be completely wrong for others.
But while each story is unique, the pain and confusion that follow are achingly similar.
Whether it was a one-time slip, an emotional connection that crossed the line, or a long-term secret, the impact is real. It shakes the foundation of trust, shatters the story you thought you were living, and leaves you staring at the pieces, wondering what (if anything) can be salvaged.
Some people walk away immediately. For them, it’s a dealbreaker. A non-negotiable.
Some stay and try to rebuild. It’s complicated. Kids, culture, finances, personal values, social circles, religion, goals, living situation, friendships, family expectations. The list goes on.
And many(so many)sit in that confusing, in-between space of asking infinite questions: “What does this mean for us now?” “Where do we go from here?” “Is there something left worth fighting for?”
It’s in that messy, uncertain space that the hardest (and often most necessary) conversations begin to unfold.
We will take the first step into this conversation together.
Survival vs. Revival
So, can a relationship really survive infidelity?
Short answer: yes.
Longer answer: not in the same way it existed before.
Survival is about movement.
Maybe right now, simply taking your next breath feels like survival. Maybe getting through your days, one minute at a time, is what’s keeping you both afloat. Maybe giving each other space, however that looks for you, is exactly what you both need to survive. Any movement is movement. I’m saying that again.
Any movement is movement.
The important thing is to keep moving through. Survival isn’t always loud or obvious, sometimes it’s just the quiet strength of continuing.
In the aftermath of survival, some couples grow stronger. That doesn’t mean cheating was “good” or “worth it”, it just means that surviving it exposed something that desperately needed to be seen. And when both people do the work (and it is a lot of work), they sometimes come out with a more honest communication, deeper intimacy, and a relationship that actually feels more connected.
Revival means bringing something back to life.
I want to be clear. Revival does not mean “going back to the way things were.” Because the truth is, that version of the relationship doesn’t exist anymore. (Honestly, just writing that gave me a pang to the chest.) The reality is, things have changed. The relationship has shaped into something new and unfamiliar. Clinging onto what the relationship used to be only delays the chance to understand what it could become.
When I say revival, I mean getting radically honest about what bringing life to this new relationship looks like. It means approaching the hurt with curiosity. Asking what happened, what came out of it, and who each of you is now in the aftermath. It’s about deciding together if there is something worth rebuilding… and if so, how to build it differently this time.
Rebuilding After Betrayal
Rebuilding trust after infidelity is not about pretending it never happened. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. That old phrase, “forgive and forget”? In both my personal and professional opinion, it feels way too neat and tidy for something as complex as betrayal.
Forgetting what happened can bypass the very work that rebuilding requires. The kind of work that comes from gently turning toward what’s been uncovered. The pain, the questions, and the truths then serve as the starting point for creating something new.
A book I’ve turned to in expanding my own understanding around infidelity (and highly recommend) is Esther Perel’s The State of Affairs: Rethinking Infidelity. Perel stretches and challenges the usual stories we hear and tell about cheating. She approaches the topic with curiosity, nuance, and deep compassion suggesting that rebuilding begins with asking the big questions. Ones that help to understand not just what happened, but what came of it all.
For this process of inquiry to truly begin, there must be a shared sense of safety. A space where questions can be asked, and answers can be shared openly, free from judgment or fear. Such a trusting space may require the following:
Radical honesty. No more emotional withholding, with yourself or each other.
Transparency with compassion. Offering honesty and openness while prioritizing emotional safety.
Accountability. Taking full responsibility, without defensiveness or blame-shifting.
Space for grief. Essential. Because something was lost. A lot was lost. Memories, history, goals, expectations, trust, plans. And mourning that loss is part of the healing.
A shared vision. Building a relationship that feels more aligned with who you are now.
Rebuilding is a process. And like any process, it takes time. And, it is not linear.
A while back, I saw a meme that visually represented the process of recovery. At the top, it showed a straight line pointing forward, representing what folks think recovery looks like. Then underneath, it showed a squiggled mess of lines, like a messy tangled ball of yarn, representing what recovery really looks like. Rebuilding can be that messy ball, and that’s exactly what makes the process real and meaningful.
Something to also keep in mind, rebuilding is not always successful. Sometimes the line is cut, bringing everything to a halting stop. Sometimes the line fades, fragments, or separates into frayed ends. But when both people are committed to growing together, transformation is possible.
The Questions
Infidelity is not just the betrayal of your partner, it’s the betrayal of the story you thought you were living. The story of your love. Your future. Your family. Your home. Your shared reality. And what’s left in its place? An ever-mounting pile of questions.
Was any of it real? Why did they do it? What does this say about me? What now? Is it love or lust? What are we missing? Where did we go wrong? Did I deserve this? How could I do this? How could they do this? What do they have that I don’t? How could they choose to lie over and over and over? How could I choose to lie over and over and over? Was it worth it?
These are not light questions.
These are big, existential questions, and they deserve space.
The work isn’t about rushing to the answers. And it’s quite possible the answers to these questions may shift along the way. The work is about making room to sit in the discomfort of exploring these answers together. It’s about choosing to understand rather than react, to stay curious instead of assigning blame. I want to be clear. Understanding does not mean justifying. Understanding invites insight and meaning. Justifying can reduce the experience or dismiss impact.
Overall, these questions may not have simple answers, but being curious about the answers and honoring what comes up is the first step toward rebuilding something real. And if desired, long-lasting.
When Is It Time to Walk Away?
The realest answer: only you will know.
Sometimes, survival means letting go.
When a relationship, or the people in it, have changed into something unrecognizable, it may be that the most loving, life-giving choice is not to hold on, but to make space.
There is no gold medal for staying in something that breaks your spirit. You do not need to shrink yourself to be loved, accepted, or safe. Living in fear of judgment, rejection, or conflict is not a life, it’s a quiet surrender of who you are.
I encourage you to live a life that strives for the kind of love that allows you to grow into your fullest, truest self, leaving what no longer serves you takes immense courage. But it is also the first step toward choosing yourself. And that is always a path worth walking.
If You’re the One Who Was Betrayed…
You are not foolish for loving.
You are not broken because someone broke your trust.
You are not defined by what was done to you.
You are worthy of love that honors you.
You are still whole, even with the hurt.
You are powerful for facing the truth.
If you choose to stay, choose it fully. Not from fear, guilt, or pressure, but from clarity. From strength. From a real desire to build something new.
And if you choose to leave, leave knowing that you honored your heart. That you gave love a chance. That you deserve peace. Either way, your healing matters.
If You’re the One Who Cheated…
Yes, you hurt someone.
Yes, you broke trust.
Yes, it is on you to take responsibility.
And…
This does not define all of you.
You have the chance to move forward, however that looks for you.
Healing is possible.
If you want to repair the damage, it starts with owning your choices. Not defending them. Not minimizing them. Not blaming your partner. Just…owning them. Being radically honest about what you were missing, what you were chasing, and what you found. Even if it is hard to admit.
Apologies can open the door, but real healing means walking through it. It requires showing up consistently, listening with humility, and creating space for both you and your partner to grieve, rage, and doubt without letting guilt take the lead.
You can’t undo what’s been done but you can decide who you’re going to be now.
What Do You Want This to Mean?
You get to decide what this rupture means for your story. Your first version is over. Would you like to create a second one, together?
Maybe it’s the end of a chapter. Maybe it’s the beginning of a new one. Maybe it’s the moment you finally come home to yourself.
Whatever you choose, let it be a choice rooted in truth, not fear. Let it be a choice that honors your worth. Let it be a choice that allows for healing.
Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about whether your relationship survives.
It’s about how you do.