An existential crisis is a period of time when a person questions their existence. They might begin to wonder who they really are or what the meaning of life truly is. Some people may begin searching for a new sense of purpose or feel the need to make other changes in life.

Simply feeling out of place or disconnected from life doesn’t necessarily indicate an existential crisis. Thinking about life’s “deep questions” is fairly common, and not everyone experiences an existential crisis. A crisis can be said to occur when you ask yourself (or others) these questions and experience anxiety, frustration, or depression when you aren’t able to find satisfactory answers.

Thoughts of suicide aren’t uncommon during existential crisis. It’s important to get help right away if you experience persistent depression or have thoughts of suicide.

What Causes an Existential Crisis?

Anyone can experience an existential crisis. Some common triggers are listed below.

Age transition

Transitioning from the teen years to young adulthood, or into middle age or older adulthood, causes some to doubt the meaning of life. People might consider their past and future years and wonder what they have accomplished. They may worry about making the most of the years ahead or feel as if they aren’t equipped to handle new responsibilities that come with growing up. Some dwell on or miss a previous stage of life.

A life-altering event

Existential crisis can develop after events such as marriage, divorce, breakup, childbirth, trauma, or loss. These events can lead people to question life as they know it. Trauma or death make many realize their own mortality, especially if the death was unexpected. Some people begin questioning their identity after beginning a new relationship or ending an existing one. For example, an individual may feel they exist in the context of their relationship but have no separate self.

A life-threatening event

It’s common to have a period of crisis after being involved in a car accident or natural disaster or experiencing a life-threatening illness. People facing death from cancer or related illnesses may lose sight of the meaning of life or fear what comes after life. Surviving an accident or disaster can sometimes lead to feelings of survivor’s guilt and a search for the meaning of life. It’s not uncommon to question your survival and worry about being “unworthy.”

Signs You May Be Having an Existential Crisis

Existential crises often happen after something causes a person to realize their mortality or lose an ideal. They’re usually recognized by the following signs:

• Feelings of depression and hopelessness. These could relate to job dissatisfaction, a relationship that isn’t going anywhere, or failure to achieve one’s goals. Some may wonder what the point of life is if it’s not possible to achieve their dreams. A recent loss could also contribute to these feelings.
• Anxiety. Existential anxiety might present as feelings of worry about the future, what happens after death, or the meaning of life. Some may feel they’re missing out on some greater part of life but be uncertain what that is. Most people consider these thoughts from time to time, but they can cause distress when it’s hard to stop thinking about them.
• Isolation and loneliness. Feeling alone in the world is common during times of crisis. Some individuals find it hard to relate to others or believe others don’t understand what they’re going through. People considering existential concepts also may spend more time alone, working through these thoughts. Increased time alone can contribute to feelings of loneliness.
• Existential obsessions. According to the International OCD Foundation, existential OCD describes intrusive thoughts about philosophical questions or other issues that can’t be answered, such as “Why are we here?” These thoughts persist and may lead to depression. It may be difficult to avoid thinking about them, and some spend hours cycling through these thoughts, exacerbating feelings of fear or hopelessness.
• Loss of interest or motivation. Some parts of life may begin to seem less important when searching for purpose. It’s not unusual to feel as if the activities of life are mundane or meaningless. Some people also find that their personal values change as they attempt to find meaning in life. But this can be a positive outcome. Realizing new values can lead to a new sense of purpose, which can help resolve the period of crisis.

Feeling as if there’s no point to anything because nothing you do makes a difference can lead to a loss of motivation. Some begin to feel their relationships with others don’t matter and isolate as a result.

How an Existential Crisis Can Impact Mental Health

If you’re struggling to reconcile your present life with what you’d hoped for yourself, you may experience sadness, frustration, anxiety, and depression. Because people often experience depression and anxiety during a period of existential crisis, they may be diagnosed with one or both of these conditions. But depression and anxiety brought on by an existential crisis aren’t entirely the same as typical depression or anxiety.

Existential anxiety specifically describes fear or uneasiness about life’s true meaning. An individual could feel as if they’ve made the wrong choices or aren’t free to make choices they want to make. They might worry about death or the afterlife. Worrying about these things can keep people from enjoying life in the moment, especially if anxiety occurs as intrusive or obsessive thoughts (existential OCD).

Existential depression refers to the feelings of disinterest, sadness, hopelessness, and loss of motivation that often accompany an existential crisis. People might feel hopeless about society, the world, or other “big-picture” concepts. Feeling as if there’s no point to anything because nothing you do makes a difference can lead to a loss of motivation. Some begin to feel their relationships with others don’t matter and isolate as a result.

How to Deal with an Existential Crisis

Some people can work through existential crisis on their own. It may take time, but eventually, they accept that some of life’s questions simply can’t be answered. They may find a renewed sense of life purpose through newly discovered values. For example, someone who felt like they contributed nothing might decide to spend one day each week volunteering in their community.

If the crisis lasts and negatively affects daily life, well-being, relationships, work, or school, it may be helpful to talk to a therapist. A compassionate, qualified counselor can teach you ways to cope with feelings of depression and despair. While existential crisis isn’t a diagnosable mental health condition, depression and anxiety can be serious if untreated. If you have thoughts of suicide, it’s best to reach out to a suicide helpline.

• Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which helps you learn to challenge and change unwanted thoughts, can help you deal with existential depression or anxiety. Therapy approaches such as humanistic therapy and existential therapy can also be very helpful.
• Existential therapy helps you accept the givens of life—freedom/responsibility, death, isolation, and meaninglessness—and teaches you to cope with them by accepting them without letting them overwhelm you.
• Humanistic (person-centered) therapy helps you discover and focus on the importance of your true self. In humanistic therapy, you may discover the changes you can make to live your most fulfilling life.

When dealing with an existential crisis, it can help to remind yourself how your life has meaning to others. Do you take care of a child, parent, younger sibling, or pet? Do you help others at work? Are you studying something that will allow you to help others? Try keeping track of daily kindnesses, acts of compassion, positive experiences, and other things that give life meaning. You might begin by listing the people in life you care about and ways you impact each other.

If you’re struggling with a specific part of life, consider whether change is possible. Therapy is a good place to not only explore questions about life, but also to identify and address areas of unfulfillment and talk through potential changes.

References:

1. Andrews, M. (2016). The existential crisis. Behavioral Development Bulletin, 21(1), 104-109. doi: 10.1037/bdb0000014
2. ButÄ—naitÄ—, J., SondaitÄ—, J., & Mockus, A. (2016). Components of existential crisis: A theoretical analysis. International Journal of Psychology: A Biopsychosocial Approach, 18, 9-27. Retrieved from https://eltalpykla.vdu.lt/bitstream/handle/1/32983/ISSN2345-024X_2016_V_18.PG_9-27.pdf?sequence=1
3. Different approaches to psychotherapy. (n.d.). American Psychological Association. Retrieved from https://www.apa.org/topics/therapy/psychotherapy-approaches.aspx
4. How to cope with a later-life crisis. (n.d.). Johns Hopkins Medicine. Retrieved from https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/healthy_aging/healthy_mind/how-to-cope-with-a-later-life-crisis
5. Kehr, B. (2018, June 19). Existential crisis in young adults. Retrieved from https://drbrucekehr.com/existential-crisis-in-young-adults
6. Penzel, F. (n.d.). To be or not to be, that is the obsession: Existential and philosophical OCD. The International OCD Foundation. Retrieved from https://iocdf.org/expert-opinions/to-be-or-not-to-be-that-is-the-obsession-existential-and-philosophical-ocd
7. Yang, W., Staps, T., & Hijmans, E. (2010). Existential crisis and the awareness of dying: The role of meaning and spirituality. Journal of Death and Dying, 61(1), 53-69. doi: 10.2190/OM.61.1.c

As a psychotherapist who helps a lot of middle-aged men, I have learned that, as with so many pop psychology clichés, there is much more to the male “midlife crisis” than meets the eye. The problems and challenges that crop up in middle age are less about outside circumstances, which we can’t control, and more about one’s psychology and perspective. In the paragraphs that follow, we’ll discuss (1) how this so-called crisis is really an intensified version of an issue that’s always present, (2) why that is, and (3) what can be done about it.

We are familiar with the pop culture-inspired image of the middle-aged man who suddenly feels “old,” his youthfulness scarily draining away, which leads to a reckless fling or pursuit of a younger woman, often with disastrous results. Think of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty lusting after his teenage daughter’s friend; two grown men behaving like the erratic college roomies they once were in Sideways; or Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction (note how well that worked out!).

Whatever your moral view, these dramatized antics often strike a chord with audiences. Why is that?

The issue isn’t so much moral as one of perception. It calls for deeper understanding of one’s own inner world, and of one’s own vulnerability.

[fat_widget_right]

In middle age, many men find, perhaps for the first time, that mortality becomes real, physical, in a way that can’t be denied. But that mortality, our human vulnerability, is always present, whether we are conscious of it or not.

One of the great privileges of youth is denial of that limitation, an embrace of invincibility, a vital rebuke to the idea of aging and death. Life is finite. This implies not only our own eventual demise, which scares us, but also the demise of those closest to us (also scary). We all have to live with a ticking clock, which is both a curse and a blessing; I’ll explain why later. At a certain point, the clock can no longer be ignored.

I’m thinking of some of the men in therapy with me who are creeping up on middle age and noticing their bodies don’t quite have the same resilience; no more boxing, no more marathons. Such activities had lent an aura of invincibility that won’t be coming back. Suddenly, eight hours of sleep seems very important, and the mind isn’t quite the steel trap it used to be. Viagra and Cialis are given a look, and body parts that weren’t even on the radar begin to ache. (As I write this, my lower back is sorer than it used to be.) That ticking clock makes its presence known, in ways both subtle and obvious.

It was always there, of course, but we tend to deny it—which is not to say we ought to obsess or brood over it like Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters, where he says, “Do you realize what a thread we’re hanging by?” But sooner or later, deal with it we must; our aches and pains and other signs of compromised endurance serve as uncomfortable reminders that time is a kind of currency, and none of us has unlimited amounts to spend. We must, at some time or another, consider how we really want to be spending it.

Sometimes, other unexpected losses occurring in middle age can be uneasy reminders of that existential clock: we may lose a high school friend or a parent; we might experience new medical issues; we find ourselves unhappy with our work or career; or perhaps longstanding relationship issues become more challenging. Knowing we’re mortal intellectually is very different from sensing it in our very bones.

These and other encounters with mortality are indicators of what psychoanalyst and philosopher Robert Stolorow (2007) calls “finitude,” the concept that to be human means accepting the finiteness of time and human limitations, including the big kahuna of mortality itself. These reminders can themselves be “triggers” for those who experienced trauma earlier in life. Psychologists sometimes call this “emotional linkage.”

Can’t we just have a fling or watch some porn or take a pill?

I think this is why therapy can seem so frightening. In therapy people face their vulnerabilities—and that can mean acknowledging that clock, which even therapists are sometimes reluctant to recognize. (Those of us in helping professions who duck the issue, who don’t face it in some basic way, are doing ourselves and the people we work with a disservice.)

Often a man will internalize mortality as “weakness” and respond by trying harder at the gym, ignoring aches and pains, working more, seeking more sex or self-validation by making more money, etc. Consumption of booze, porn, and other “medication” may also increase. All of these, of course, are Band-Aids. These things are reliably diverting only for a while. Ultimately, they fail to address the problem in a fulfilling way psychologically or emotionally.

One thing that surprises many men who come to see me is that the limitations and finiteness they are encountering in a newly anxious way have, as noted earlier, been there all along. The loss of the ability to box, run, work, work out, and have sex with the same vigor and stamina may be subtle, if potent, reminders of times in the past when one felt overwhelmingly weak or defenseless in the face of unbearable pain. Perhaps abuse or abandonment occurred and equally intense self-protections were needed, ways of building the person back up again. The original trauma may have necessarily been forgotten for the sake of survival, but here are those feelings and memories again, with their same implications of shameful “weakness” and vulnerability. Losing one’s youthful strength can feel like losing the armor that protected us for so many years, plunging us into anxiety and uncertainty.

Often a man will internalize mortality as “weakness” and respond by trying harder at the gym, ignoring aches and pains, working more, seeking more sex or self-validation by making more money, etc. Consumption of booze, porn, and other “medication” may also increase. All of these, of course, are Band-Aids. These things are reliably diverting only for a while. Ultimately, they fail to address the problem in a fulfilling way psychologically or emotionally.

Ironically, it’s almost a blessing that time is limited. The finiteness of time gives the present its value; it forces us to focus on what truly matters to us: soulful versus immediate gratification. (Not that there’s anything wrong with the latter, provided it’s not the only means of enjoying life.) If time and youth were infinite, we might not find value in the present, in the moments we get to share with each other, or in the wondrousness of our world.

When we can at least take a stab at accepting our humanness, when we can live in abundance and in the present moment no matter our circumstances, then our world can open up to us in unexpected ways. Human connection becomes more valuable, and authenticity and emotional truth become something to strive for rather than fear or dread. As we come to accept that, as men, it’s OK to need support and love from others in facing what is frightening, we can better help and support others in their own times of grief and loss.

Of course, facing our humanness can be very difficult and messy, and often prompts the raising of hairy questions such as, “Am I happy in my work? At home? How do I deal with aging parents and their impending loss? Is it time to forgive and forget? What do I really care about? Will the ‘real me’ please stand up?”

This is not to say, by the way, that physical activity or outside “stuff” doesn’t matter. (I would not turn down a free sports car.) It’s just that so many men who come to me for help have put all of their psychological eggs in that particular basket. When the basket begins to fray, panic sets in. It’s when our usual “fixes” stop working that real therapy begins. (Carl Jung, for one, felt that therapy truly began in middle age.)

So many who begin working at this—via therapy, creativity, spirituality, relating more closely to others, or other means—discover that, in the end, there’s nothing to be afraid of. There is sadness and loss, yes, but also greater capacity for connection, even joy. There is as much beauty in the human soul as in the natural world, if not more so. Some tender scrubbing at a tarnished heart often reveals a priceless gem. Hard to believe? Why not try it?

It’s not the fears and hidden demons that can hurt us, it’s the persistent avoidance of them that gets us into trouble.

There’s no shame in asking for help (from a therapist, religious or spiritual adviser, trusted friend, even a family member). The practice of gazing, with assistance if need be, into our own psychic mirrors in the end helps us enjoy even more the joys of exercise, food, drink, sex, and embodied aliveness.

Water is most valued when the well runs dry, as the old saying goes. I believe we are meant to enjoy our pleasurable sensory experiences, but not as a total escape from our all-too-human situation. We are all in the same boat with this than most of us ever realize.

Reference:

Stolorow, R. D. (2007). Trauma and human existence. New York: The Analytic Press.

Just over three years ago I considered myself happily married and content to grow older gracefully. I was 46, working hard as a senior school teacher and raising two teenage girls. My husband, who is almost 10 years older than me, had been in poor health after an operation and had been off work for several months. Much of my life was about obligation—it was tedious and I was in a rut.

At the start of the academic year I was assigned, once a week, a 29-year-old trainee teacher. The first day I worked with him I thought what a nice young man he was and wished my daughters would meet someone like him one day. He had a gentle nature and such a non-confrontational approach to teaching that the students took to him immediately.

By week three I was hopelessly in love with him. We were relaxed with each other, could talk for hours and had such an intense connection. I could think of little else, day and night. I have never longed for someone, cried over someone, or been absolutely driven to distraction like I was with this man. I completely lost my perspective, and almost my sanity.

The thing is, unlikely as it may seem, he was obviously attracted to me. He paid me endless compliments, stared at me constantly in class, commented that my husband was lucky, described me to a colleague as ‘beautiful’ and ‘wondrous,’ blushed and stammered when we met around school and generally acted like someone with a teenage crush. The week of Valentine’s Day, he gave me a beautiful drawing of a heart that had obviously taken hours; another day, when I complimented him on his teaching, he responded with “There are just not enough superlatives in the world to describe how wonderful I think you are.” I was in heaven. [fat_widget_left]

Against this barrage of affection I consistently maintained a ‘you’re very sweet but I’m happily married and far too old for you’ response. It was agony but I couldn’t show him how I felt. What held me back was my devotion to him—a relationship between us could never have worked and the one thing I wanted in the world more than him was for him to be happy. When he left after a year I was heartbroken and went for counseling to make sense of it all, which really helped in several ways: I could talk my obsession through in safety and realize how impossible it was, I was able to explore what was missing in my marriage at that time and try to identify the positives, but moreover, my counselor helped me to address problems at home and improve the relationship with my husband.

Three years on and things are completely different—this infatuation, or whatever it was, is all but forgotten and hardly seems real. My husband is mostly back to good health and we are much happier. I’m also doing more things for me—I’ve reduced my working hours and enjoy a more balanced life. And the young teacher? We have stayed in touch, but inevitably he has moved on. When we occasionally meet I can’t honestly understand what I saw in him.

Karina is a senior school teacher, now aged 49. She lives in England, is married and has two daughters—one at college, one at university. The episode that she recounted happened three years ago.

I don’t buy it, the fade-away stuff. I might go for burnout, considering that your kid just finished college, which implies many years of concerned parenting, but really, I have to say that you sound very successful—together with your wife you have created a solid marriage and seen your child graduate from UCLA. You must be doing something right, and I urge you to pat yourself on your back; you deserve it. I have the feeling you’ve been working hard for your family—long, hard work can lead to burnout—and now might be the time to take stock and then use some of that energy for yourself. You have completed an important life chapter. It’s time to turn the page and start another.

You wonder if you are having a midlife crisis, but I wonder what that means, exactly. Boredom? Dissatisfaction with where you are in the world at this particular point in time? You’ve never felt that before? Maybe you’re just tired out, finished with some things, and ready to start some new ones.

[fat_widget_left]

Turning your attention to yourself is a challenge. Maybe you’d like to improve or make changes in your career, your marriage, or your health choices. Analyzing how to go about any of this, discussing different opportunities with your wife, can be rewarding. You can figure out what’s really important to both of you, your goals, and the steps you need to take to achieve them.

Perhaps you are having a “midlife crisis,” or perhaps you’re simply depressed. I recommend that you speak with a therapist to rule out dysthymia, a chronic depressive state characterized in part by feelings of hopelessness, ongoing negative beliefs, and a lack of energy for or interest in things you once enjoyed. Having a check-up with a physician is also a good idea. At 48, hormonal changes could account for a lack of zest and enthusiasm.

Whatever the case, it does sound like the spice has gone out of your life. Work. Dinner, TV, dog, bed. Boring. People in their forties or fifties often define their dissatisfactions, if they are feeling them, as age related. At the very least, unhappiness is heightened because you feel like time is running short. Your life is nearly half over, as you write. You feel internal energic changes, or see your parents aging or perhaps passing. I think it’s time for the next big thing.

People can lose their zest at any age. My prescription for people who feel that they live boring lives is to look around a bit and simply do something different. What are your dreams? What are the things you like to do?

I don’t know you, what your tastes and dreams are, but maybe you could fantasize a bit, or imagine doing your favorite things, then talk to your wife about them—she might have ideas, too—and then spin some of them out together, if they have mutual appeal.

If she is not interested in doing the same things that you are, so what? Who says you have to do everything together? Many couples have different interests, and that difference can in itself be spicy and stimulating. Doing everything together all the time doesn’t appeal to everyone. A little distance can make for a better relationship.

Also, who do you know whose life seems ideal? You might ask yourself who you look up to or even envy. That can be a clue, a signal for something you might do on your own or get for yourself—your own version, of course, not a copycat imitation.

I wonder, also, if you’re not maybe a little afraid to strike out in a different direction, and whether fear is preventing you from living as you would like. All change is scary, but it’s exciting, too.

The way I see it, you’re a guy in your late forties, and the world is as open as you are. It’s a big world, too, so get started.

All my best,
Lynn

Marriages aren’t like fine wines. They are not harvested in vineyards and they do not always get better with age. However, many marriages far exceed any expiration date. According to a recent article by Matt Richtel, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer and columnist, modern marriages—which divorce at rates upward of 50%—may benefit from an exit strategy after, say, five, 10, or 20 years. Richtel said that many marriage contracts already exist. Prenuptial agreements are rampant among the wealthy, some couples who live together make paperless commitments to each other, and many celebrities and politicians have legalized business/marriage agreements. In fact, the idea of contractual marriage has been picked up in Mexico, where lawmakers recently introduced the idea of renewable marriages. Good idea or bad, the law didn’t pass.

But should it have? Should the institution of marriage be updated to keep pace with other cultural advances in areas such as medicine and technology? This was the question that Richtel asked several marriage therapists, psychologists, and divorce attorneys. The responses were varied. Author and professor Pepper Schwartz commented that marriage has been getting picked apart for decades and needs to be fully examined. Today’s marriages have less connection to religion and family, which creates a weaker support system, and modern technology encourages people to expect instant gratification from marriage. Schwartz said something like a 20-year marriage contract is an option, and that nuptial contracts including dowries and financial arrangements are not new.

Dr. Robert E. Emery, a professor of psychology at the University of Virginia, says the problem with marriage is the expectation of longevity that it comes with. Children of divorced parents bear the immediate emotional devastation of losing one parent, or having their family rhythm disrupted. If the possibility of divorce was anticipated, and marriages were not supposed to last past a certain point, it would be more culturally acceptable and emotionally tolerable. Emery says the best way to approach marriage is to understand that it is not a union filled with unlimited sex with someone who is beyond perfect, but rather an investment of every available resource that can reap emotional, sexual, and physical rewards. “There are good reasons to be romantic about marriage,” Emery said. “The big benefit of marriage is precisely the commitment over the long term.”

Reference:
Richtel, Matt. Till death, or 20 years, do us part. (n.d.): n. pag. The New York Times. 28 Sept. 2012. Web. 1 Oct. 2012. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/09/30/fashion/marriage-seen-through-a-contract-lens.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Many mental health professionals consider the three “A’s”—addiction, affairs, and abuse—sufficient reason to leave a partner. This blog addresses lower-level offenses related to the first two. While most couples can overcome low-level indiscretions in any area of the three “A’s,” when multiple indiscretions occur or the degree of severity is greater, it may be time to throw in the proverbial towel. As couples grapple with why one partner cheated or entered the depths of alcoholism or drug addiction, they need to evaluate the patterns of relating they have become used to, the interpersonal dynamics they engage in, the dances they dance, and the issues they may have brought into the relationship. One theme that consistently emerges is the degree to which couples are honest with each other. How much do they divulge? How important is it to tell the truth? Do you really need to tell your partner everything?

In Alcoholics Anonymous, we hear people say, “We are as sick as our secrets.” Family addiction therapists are fond of saying that there are no family secrets. By this, they mean that even when we believe that other family members don’t know a certain secret, that secret still has an impact on everyone in the family. If individual members don’t know the specifics of the secret, they are still impacted by it and sense or experience it unconsciously—and that can affect the whole family. I work with patients who learned in their twenties or later in life that they were adopted, that their parents were once married to an abusive spouse, or that they have a sibling they never knew, among other revelations.

I’ve also become aware of the extent to which sober and recovering clients keep things from their partners. Even in relatively healthy relationships, there appears to be a fair amount of small-scale concealment and deception, though the extent of the infractions often is debatable. Several clients I see—coincidentally or not, all men—have reported engaging in exercise cheating. What’s that, you ask? Exercise cheating, essentially, is exercising and not telling your partner, or not revealing how much or what type of exercise one engages in.

Even I have been guilty of cheating on my wife. A few years back, as I was setting up my new Philadelphia office, I decided to buy a painting by an artist that my wife and I liked. My wife studies art history, and I thought she would appreciate that I was acquiring a painting by a Temple University master’s graduate. And while $650 is no small chunk of change for this sort of thing, I thought it was a great investment for my new office. I thought I would surprise her with the purchase. Instead, she was angry. “You art cheated!” she cried as soon as she saw it. She was genuinely annoyed that I had not consulted with her on a purchase of this magnitude. Whether I was right or wrong in purchasing something of that cost for my office was not the issue. What is important is my partner’s perceived betrayal and need for dialogue, negotiation, and consultation.

Many hypothesize that cheating behavior is related to vestiges of evolutionary differences among men and women. While this theory would be a gross generalization in today’s society, it suggests that it was more adaptive in an evolutionary way for men to cheat than for women to cheat. Assuming evolution prioritizes any behavior designed to propagate one’s genes, men may benefit from spreading their genes in a quantity-focused way. Women, meanwhile, have long gestation and nursing periods which may temporarily move them to be more devoted and committed to their offspring. Thus, they benefit from finding a better quality mate. In other words, women are biologically, or at least evolutionarily, better at taking care of their young, especially in early developmental stages. Most people agree, and research appears to back this up, that most men think about sex more frequently than women do. While both men and women want to find a quality mate, men may be more inclined to seek quantity than women are.

According to this evolutionary perspective, neither men nor women want their mates to cheat because a mate who cheats may have more offspring, which in turn means that mate is less likely to care for the original partner’s offspring and more likely to leave and care for his or her new offspring. It is in a man’s evolutionarily best interest not to alert his partner to the fact he is cheating. Any behavior—sexual or not—that results in producing healthy offspring is powerfully reinforced to the extent that it aids in propagating an individual’s genes. So, infidelity and hiding that infidelity through the processes of natural selection and evolution can become more prevalent over time.

A fair question would be whether cheating sexually is related at all to other types of cheating. Just because a partner doesn’t tell a mate where he or she is going and what he or she is doing doesn’t mean that an affair is happening, and it doesn’t mean that a tendency toward nonmonogamous behavior is the cause of disingenuous behavior in the context of the couple. In fact, the point of this article is to lessen the impact of minor violations of the honesty contract. Putting small indiscretions of dishonesty in an evolutionary context may allow couples to see this behavior as resulting from the natural instincts of the animals we are. What is important, though, is that as humans we have the capacity to dialogue. This is precisely what can keep our natural tendencies in check. Speaking honestly to our partners about our needs and wants, while often challenging, is the hallmark of a healthy relationship.

Smoking gun example: A client once described an interaction he had with his wife after she busted him for smoking pot in the garage. She smelled the smoke even as he vehemently denied he had been smoking marijuana. When she found his metal pipe, still warm, he stuck to his story. “The lie just came out,” he explained later. “I was so used to it.” He eventually was able to talk about why he lied and why he has often felt the need to cover things up. It had nothing to do with infidelity, but was instead linked to his history of struggling to feel good about himself, to be able to ask for help with his emotions feelings and thoughts and to find purpose and meaning in his life. Beginning to discuss these issues with his wife and therapist helped him think more carefully about his tendency to lie and cover his tracks. He became better at advocating for himself and negotiating with his partner in a more healthy way.

Honesty is important in recovery from any mental health issue, whether it be depression, anxiety, or stress, but it is especially important in recovery from addiction and substance use because of the strong tendencies to hide, deny, and minimize one’s behaviors. Seeing an addiction psychologist or other specialist is an important first step in understanding one’s self. It is in this therapeutic relationship that a quick foundation can be set for the basis of an honest dialogue with one’s partner, friends, and family. Rebuilding relationships with those we love and who love us is essential to recovery from addiction. Understanding ourselves and the reasons we might cheat and lie can enable us to pause just long enough to ask ourselves whether we really want to go ahead with the behavior or if we might be able to rely on those close to us to help us through the difficult times. Honest communication with the people in our lives is the only way we can become and stay sober or make meaningful and lasting changes in our lives.

The ideal standards model (ISM) of interpersonal evaluations suggests that a partner becomes dissatisfied with his or her relationship when the significant other fails to measure up to what he or she expects an ideal mate to be. Likewise, this level of dissatisfaction can occur when one partner perceives that he or she is not living up to his or her partner’s standards. These relationship discrepancies therefore are indirectly caused by each partner, whether that person realizes it or not. Additionally, each type of discrepancy, whether partner generated (PD-Partner) or self-generated (PD-Self) can produce a different behavioral response. Although partner behavior has been studied in the context of ISM, it has not been explored further. Therefore, to address the partner discrepancy origins and effects using the ISM, Sandra D. Lackenbauer of the Department of Psychology at Western University in Ontario, Canada, recently led a series of studies of partners in unmarried and married relationships.

Lackenbauer assessed how PD affected motivation, avoidance, feelings of self-worth and agitation. In the first three studies, Lackenbauer found that those with high levels of PD-partner felt dejected while those with high levels of PD-self had more agitation. This was especially evident on scales that measured trustworthiness and feelings of warmth and caring. In the final two studies, the participants with PD-partner led to promotion-focused emotional responses while the presence of PD-self resulted in more prevention-based strategies.

The findings from these studies extend previous research on ISM and emotional regulation within intimate relationships. Although some existing research suggests that discrepancies are directly related to dissatisfaction within relationships, the results of Lackenbauer’s research suggests otherwise. In fact, the participants who exhibited PD-partner trends engaged in nurturing and promoting behaviors which can be a positive path for increases in satisfaction. The prevention behaviors displayed by those with high levels of PD-self suggest that individuals who perceive themselves as less than ideal take actions that minimize feelings of insecurity and abandonment in their relationships. Additionally, these individuals tend to maximize their assets in an effort to more closely match what they believe their partner’s ideal to be. Lackenbauer added, “Especially for those people involved in generally satisfying and committed relationships, this prevention strategy could be aimed at reducing the partner discrepancy to ultimately maintain the relationship satisfaction.” Regardless, Lackenbauer believes that more research is needed to fully examine how these discrepancies and ensuing behaviors contribute to overall relationship satisfaction.

Reference:
Lackenbauer, S. D., Campbell, L. (2012). Measuring up: The unique emotional and regulatory outcomes of different perceived partner-ideal discrepancies in romantic relationships. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Advance online publication. doi: 10.1037/a0029054