Cheating sucks. That part isn’t controversial. And the default advice for this relationship sin usually goes something like: Leave. Block them. Never look back. But what happens when a woman dares to stay? That’s when the spotlight—and shaming—turns on her.
We’re seeing this pattern play out in Amazon Prime’s drama, The Summer I Turned Pretty. Belly, after being cheated on by her boyfriend, Jeremiah, still chooses to marry him—a decision that has triggered a torrent of online hate. Since the episode aired, she’s been branded by viewers as insufferable, embarrassing, and pathetic. Meanwhile, Jeremiah—the perpetrator—largely escapes the internet’s scrutiny.
In the court of public opinion, it’s the woman forgiving a cheater who becomes the punchline.
According to infidelity experts, this one-sided backlash is hardly surprising—and reflects a broader, sexist double standard: We claim to hate cheaters, but the truth is, we hate the women who refuse to leave them even more.
The double standard that blames women for forgiving a cheater
“Historically, women were often locked into marriages regardless of their well-being,” Idit Sharoni, LMFT, a couples therapist who leads an infidelity recovery program called It’s Okay to Stay, tells SELF. “Over time, they fought for and won the right to leave unhappy marriages and normalize divorce.” That progress has been so powerful that now, “when a woman chooses to stay, she can be judged just as harshly for not leaving.”
Layered onto that is a cultural narrative that normalizes men’s infidelity. “The stereotype is that women don’t need a lot of sex and men do,” Lauren LaRusso, LPC, LMHC, author of Beyond Infidelity: How to Turn the End of Your Relationship into the Beginning of Your Life, tells SELF. This belief feeds into the perception that unfaithfulness, for men, is inevitable—an expression of biology and instinct, rather than a betrayal—which shifts the burden of judgment onto women. “It becomes deep-seated in our subconscious schemas about the way men and women are socialized, raised, and wired,” LaRusso says. “Of course, they’re going to go out and have their needs met, which means only a weak woman would stay and stand for that.”
Case in point: Look at how the public treated Khloé Kardashian after giving Tristan Thompson multiple chances following his cheating scandals. He’s the one who repeatedly wronged and humiliated her, yet it’s Kardashian who has been relentlessly mocked and memed. Even Hillary Clinton’s decision to remain married to Bill was cast less as a reflection of a painful, complex circumstance and more as “evidence” of moral weakness, low intelligence, and poor self-esteem. Time and time again, society doesn’t just downplay men’s bad behavior—it ridicules the women for enduring it.
Why staying after infidelity is more complicated than you think
“We’re quick to judge life decisions through a simple ‘good versus bad’ lens,” Sharoni says. And choosing to be with someone who’s been unfaithful doesn’t fit that script—nor does it leave much room for sympathy.
Part of that judgment is reinforced by longstanding “rules” such as, “once a cheater, always a cheater.” By this logic, betrayal isn’t just a one-time lapse in judgment but a permanent character flaw, making forgiveness seem naive or even delusional. Yet, as LaRusso points out, “there are plenty of people who have cheated once and never do it again. So we do ourselves a great disservice when we reduce infidelity to these universal, blanket statements.”