Why do people cheat?
It’s the kind of question we ask in a whisper, late at night, after a friend’s relationship explodes, or after we catch ourselves wondering what it would be like to message that ex we swore we deleted.
Everyone has their theories. Some say it’s lust. Some say it’s loneliness. Others just blame Instagram.
But the truth is… it’s complicated. Not the Facebook-status kind of complicated, actual, messy, psychological, brain-wired, emotionally jammed kind of complicated.
And the more you dig into it, the more you realize: cheating isn’t always about sex. It’s often about something people don’t talk about at all, identity, desire, and sometimes, plain old panic.
I remember a friend once said, “I don’t even think I wanted him, I just wanted to feel like I could still get someone.” That stayed with me. Because it sounded shallow at first, but it wasn’t. It was sad. It was human.
Psychiatrist Frank Pittman, who spent decades treating couples wrecked by infidelity, put it best in his book Private Lies:
“Most affairs are attempts to cope with a personal crisis, not to reject a partner.”
That’s huge. People cheat not always because they’ve fallen out of love with their partner, but because they’re falling out of love with themselves. Or they’re bored.
Or angry. Or they feel invisible. Or they hit 40 and suddenly think, “Is this it? Am I just a dad with a receding hairline now?”
And science backs this up.
A 2017 study in the Journal of Sex Research asked real people why they cheated, and got real answers. Some said it was revenge. Some wanted variety. Some just wanted to feel something. Others… couldn’t even explain it. It “just happened.” As if they tripped and fell into someone else’s hotel room.
Biological anthropologist Dr. Helen Fisher, who has studied love like it’s a chemical formula, explains that our brains are wired to chase both stability and novelty. So even if you love your partner deeply, there’s a sneaky dopamine rush waiting to ambush you when someone new pays attention to you.
It’s the same dopamine that makes you say, “I’ll just watch one episode” and then it’s 3 a.m. and you’re emotionally attached to a fictional assassin.
So part of it is brain chemistry. But that’s not the whole story either.
Let’s talk about emotional neglect, the invisible kind. Not the shouting matches, but the slow, quiet drifting apart. You start feeling more like roommates than lovers.
Conversations become logistical. Sex becomes predictable, then optional, then absent. And one day someone laughs at your joke like they actually saw you, and you feel alive again. That’s how affairs often start. Not with temptation, but with attention.
In Marital Infidelity, psychiatrist Frank S. Caprio writes that cheating is often a form of “ego restoration.” People cheat to feel worthy again, exciting again, desirable again. It’s not about losing love. It’s about losing a version of yourself you liked better.
And here’s the twist: people cheat even in happy relationships. Seriously. A 2018 study published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior found that some people cheat even when things are going fine at home. They’re just… curious. Restless. Seduced by the idea of possibility.
It’s the emotional equivalent of eating a cupcake after a full dinner, not because you’re hungry, but because it’s there.
Then there’s technology. Cheating used to require effort, secret meetups, phone booths, shady motels.
Now? A few DMs, a “haha ur cute,” and boom, you’re emotionally entangled with someone you haven’t even met in person. Social media is like a 24/7 temptation buffet.
Everyone looks hotter when filtered through a Valencia lens and emotional distance.
But let’s not pretend everyone who cheats is some sad, wounded soul searching for meaning. Some people cheat because they’re selfish. Or immature. Or impulsive. Or they’ve been raised on movies that treat cheating like a spicy subplot instead of a nuclear bomb.
Others do it to hurt their partner. That’s revenge cheating. It’s petty, it’s dramatic, and it’s surprisingly common. Think of it as the romantic version of “if you push me, I push you back.” Except with way more damage.
Esther Perel, in her brilliant book The State of Affairs, says something that stuck with me: “Affairs are about desire, the desire for connection, for freedom, for autonomy, for intensity.” Sometimes, the affair isn’t about leaving the partner, it’s about reconnecting with a lost part of oneself.
So why do people cheat?
Because they’re scared. Because they’re lonely. Because someone made them feel seen. Because they haven’t felt desired in years. Because they’re grieving something, youth, adventure, their own reflection.
Because they thought they could get away with it. Because they made a mistake. Because they’re human.
Cheating isn’t just about betrayal, it’s about unmet needs, unsaid words, and unresolved emotions. It’s not romantic.
It’s not glamorous. It’s a crash, not a firework. And the aftermath is rarely sexy. It’s messy and quiet and full of awkward counseling sessions and texts that start with “Can we talk?”
Understanding it doesn’t mean excusing it. But maybe it helps us stop asking “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking better questions, about connection, desire, communication, and, ultimately, honesty. Even if the truth is hard to hear.
So no, people don’t cheat just because they can. They cheat for a thousand tangled reasons. And maybe, just maybe, the best way to avoid it… is to actually talk about it before it happens.
