Last May, I decided that I was going to write a post in response to Elizabeth Edwards’ comments about Rielle Hunter, the woman with whom her husband, John Edwards, admitted to having an affair. At the time, Elizabeth was making the circuit promoting her new book, which included a description of her reaction to the affair. I was distressed by early reports that Elizabeth’s comments regarding Hunter, whom she chose not to name in the book or during interviews, were harsh. I opted not to finish that post then because I did not want to sit in judgment of Elizabeth during such a difficult time in her life.
After the recent flurry of stories about famous men caught cheating on their wives—and therefore the media’s (and the public’s) fascination with those wives (and mistresses)—I decided to revisit my earlier post. I felt a need to address the very public and sexist re-victimization of the women involved with men who cheat—a process, by the way, that begins before the media ink documenting the man’s confession is even dry.
In each case, the focus on the women involved is different, yet similarly critical. During the early phase of the Edwards situation, Elizabeth’s words and actions were analyzed and challenged in every venue imaginable, her motives were questioned, and her ambition was referenced. She was called a tragic victim, a power-seeking spouse living vicariously through her husband, and a mean-spirited feminist who should know better than to trash the other woman. Eliot Spitzer’s wife was chastised for standing by her man while he resigned from office after paying a prostitute for sex. Tiger Wood’s wife continues to be stalked by the paparazzi while taking her children to school or running errands. Meanwhile her husband resumes his career under the protective umbrella of the Masters’ organization.
And wow, the fallout that awaits the other women. The story of Hunter as an “evil seductress” to John Edward’s innocent, “old-fashioned” man doesn’t ring true for me. More recently, the women involved in affairs with the likes of Woods and Jessie James have had their personal lives trampled and their character assassinated.
So why do we judge these women so much more harshly than we judge the cheating men? What drives much of the public response to men who cheat is power and money (which most of these men have far greater access to than the women with whom they chose to cheat). The golf industry suffered financially while Tiger was down, and they are thrilled to have him back. According to some sources, the moneyed supporters of John Edwards found it easier to pay to hide his paramour than to lose their candidate.
As for the women, we question their choices (should she stay or should she go?) on the basis of snippets of information about their lives and circumstances. We parse their every word, looking for absolute meaning in complex situations. We judge them, applying tough standards, while knowing little of their lives or their hearts.
What strikes me most in all of this is how judgmental we all have become. You see, I believe that no one wants to be the other woman, any more than we want our hearts to be broken by infidelity. People cheat (and lie, and otherwise hurt each other) for myriad reasons—none of us are perfect. And women forgive their men for reasons that most of us will never understand because marriage is complicated—as are all relationships and life in general.
Moreover, shining the light of public scrutiny on the women involved with men who cheat is just sexist—and the language used to describe them is the worst form of sexist remarks. So starting today, let’s try not to judge the wives for not “behaving” perfectly in the aftermath of their husbands’ infidelity, which undoubtedly caused them great pain and embarrassment. And let’s stop judging the women who get involved with married men because we know little about why they found themselves making bad choices with such publicly difficult results.
Cynthia
