Why I Cheated On Every Partner I Had

I had to make the change.

By Alex Alexander — Written on Dec 28, 2022

Photo: Vladimir Gjorgiev / Shutterstock

I've never been a faithful partner. Not once.

I cheated on my first boyfriend when I was 17. When I was married, I had an affair with my yoga instructor, a fisherman, a Sufi poet, my florist, a hairdresser, and a tango teacher.

I loved the thrill of being naughty and never getting caught. I craved excitement.

I'd go at it in broad daylight at cheap motels, in cars, and even in a Pilates studio. I'd shop for lingerie, used explicitly for these cheating trysts, and then toss it in the trash.

I thrived on the newness of a ripped body pressed up against mine. I was absolutely addicted.

Eventually, I left my marriage and found myself in a new relationship. After a few months, we stopped having sex, cold turkey. For eight months, he didn't lay a finger on me.

I tried to be a loyal, supportive partner but my old ways (and sexual needs) crept back in.

Before I knew it, I was doing the no-pants dance with this incredibly hot musician from a popular rock band. He was married and bored; I was intimacy-starved.

We met up once a month and let it all out. I carried on like that for a while, then called it quits with my boyfriend.

Here's the thing: I never became emotionally attached to any of the men I ran around with. I just needed the rush.

I'd always be dressed and out the door before they tried any of that cuddling or pillow-talk nonsense. Many of them would comment that I was "like the man in the arrangement." I got off on that. I felt empowered, fierce, and invincible.

Somewhere along the way, I found that what I truly craved were those exact feelings. I had all of this energy and no other person could help me spend it fast enough.

One day I just woke up — literally. It turned out I had it within me all along to boost myself up and feel like a bada**.

Cheating was the wrong outlet and I needed to cut it out. I was wasting time, and disrespecting myself and my partners.

I found myself a cute apartment, took a new job, and started spending quality time alone.

I stopped dating and didn't have random hook-ups anymore. I got busy taking care of myself. My urge to constantly get naked simmered down.

I adored living alone. I took up snowshoeing; I loved the feeling of trekking out into the newly fallen snow in my winter gear. I went on day trips and would disappear, not telling a soul where I was.

These moments filled the void I used to fill with sex.

I found hidden beaches, hiked gorgeous trails, and learned to make fresh jam and bread. I'd prepare elaborate meals just for me, and treat myself to high-end cheese and wine.