Under The Whip

Cheating Is a Violation of Consent, and Yes, I Believe It Is Abuse
My response to a blog post

Disclaimer - This piece briefly references my own experiences with abuse. I do not go into detail and only mention one or two aspects in passing.

I want to be very clear about where I’m coming from, because context matters. I have never cheated on any romantic partner I chose to be in a relationship with. Ever. I have cheated at games when I was younger. I have cheated people out of money when I was younger. And I have absolutely cheated myself out of good opportunities through self sabotage. I have also been cheated on.

And that last one is why I am saying, unapologetically and from lived experience: **cheating is a violation of consent, a complete betrayal of trust, and yes,, abuse. **This is my personal opinion, shaped by my own history, my own trauma, and what I have witnessed over decades, of being my father's daughter.

Why I Call Cheating Abuse
When I say cheating is abuse, I am not talking about morality, religion, or purity culture. I am talking about harm. When I choose to be in an exclusive relationship with someone, and we mutually agree that we are only with each other, that agreement is a consensual boundary. I am consenting to that relationship based on that agreement. I am placing trust in that person not to violate it.

When that trust is broken, the damage isn’t abstract.

Cheating left me with deep emotional wounds. It shattered my ability to trust. I tried to stay with someone who cheated on me, and it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Every interaction became filled with doubt. Were they lying? Were they still cheating? Could I believe anything they said?

The answer was no. There was no way to rebuild trust after that betrayal.

And the damage didn’t stop there. I carried those trust issues into future relationships. I developed severe anxiety. It triggered abandonment wounds rooted in childhood trauma. I had to create very firm boundaries just to feel safe again. And yes, when you knowingly cause emotional or psychological harm, that is abuse to me. Physical harm is not the only kind that matters.

This Isn’t Just About Me
I didn’t only live this, I watched it.

I watched someone I loved endure 18 years of constant cheating. I watched what it did to her sense of worth, her stability, her ability to leave. My father cheated on my mother repeatedly. He would find a new woman, drain the bank accounts while my mom was at work, and disappear. I would come home from school to an empty house, no furniture. He was “kind” enough to leave my toy box. He didn’t leave my bed, though. I would need that when I was forced to visit him. Which I never wanted to do, but judges didn’t care about children being abused when I was growing up. Not even sure they do at all.

People love to justify cheating by saying, *“It’s better for the kids if the parents stay together.” *That argument is absolute bullshit. What actually happened was this, my mother had no support. Four kids. No help. Every time my father begged her to come back so he wouldn’t have to pay child support, she returned. And that instability shaped me deeply.

By my early twenties, I was terrified to set boundaries in relationships. Terrified to say no. Terrified that if I did, I would be abandoned. I stayed quiet, compliant, and afraid, not because I wanted to, but because that’s what survival taught me. So no, cheating “for the kids” is not noble. It is damaging. And using children as justification disgusts me.

Addressing the “Cheating Isn’t Abuse” Argument
I’ve seen a lot of arguments lately that try to frame cheating as ethically justified, often dressed up in language about autonomy, sex positivity, or rebellion against monogamy. And honestly? Much of it is misinformation rooted in a shallow understanding of consent and trauma. Yes, statistics about infidelity vary wildly. Yes, monogamy is culturally enforced. Yes, divorce is hard. Yes, sexual dissatisfaction is real.

None of that negates this truth, Consent is contextual.

If I consent to an exclusive relationship, and my partner knowingly violates that agreement while continuing to benefit from my emotional labor, trust, and commitment, my autonomy is impacted. My body, my mental health, my emotional safety, and my ability to make informed choices are all compromised.

Breaking an agreement may not be the same as sexual assault, and I am not equating the two, but minimizing the harm because “it’s not rape” is intellectually dishonest and emotionally cruel. Saying cheating isn’t a violation of consent ignores how consent actually works in relationships. I did not consent to share my emotional life, sexual health risks, or relational energy with unseen third parties. I consented to exclusivity.

Monogamy, Polyamory, and Personal Responsibility
I am not anti polyamory. I am not anti ENM. I am not anti sexual freedom. I am anti lying. If you are sexually dissatisfied, you have options, and none of them require deception.

• You can communicate honestly
• You can negotiate (and accept a no)
• You can leave

What you do not get to do is stay, lie, and then frame your betrayal as ethical rebellion. If you asked for an open relationship and your partner said no, that was their boundary. If you know you cannot be happy honoring that boundary, then the ethical choice is to walk away. Staying and cheating is not kindness. It is cowardice.

“But Leaving Is Hard”
Yes. Leaving is hard. Divorce is devastating. Economic fallout is real. Children complicate everything. I know this intimately. But choosing the option that causes ongoing, invisible harm instead of short term upheaval doesn’t make it right. It just spreads the damage over years, and often passes it directly to the children who are watching and learning what love looks like.

Children raised in homes where betrayal is normalized often grow up believing that suffering is the price of connection. I am living proof of that.

Where I Am Now
I am not healed. I am a work in progress. Baby step by baby step. What I am deeply grateful for is that I have two amazing partners in my life now, partners who understand that I carry childhood trauma, that I survived an abusive marriage, and that I am actively working to be better than the person trauma tried to turn me into.

I have come a long way in the last ten years. Therapy helped. My stubborn refusal to stay broken helped more. I made promises to myself, • I will never tolerate cheating again • I will never be afraid of someone walking away from me
• “No” is a full sentence •Boundaries do not require guilt or justification

And I will stand by this belief until my last breath,

If you think you need to cheat on someone to be happy enough to stay, do them a favor and leave. If you truly care about them, prove it with honesty. If you have children, understand that what you model becomes their blueprint. Cheating doesn’t protect relationships. It destroys people. And I will never stop naming that harm for what it is.

I pride myself on mentoring people in this lifestyle. It is something I hold close to my heart, and I take it seriously. I tend to mentor one on one, quietly, intentionally, and with a lot of care.

I also want to be very clear about one boundary I keep for myself, I don’t mentor Dominants. That isn’t judgment, it is ethics, at least as I understand them. In my world, Dominants should be mentored by other Dominants, and submissives by other submissives. Power deserves to be learned from those who live it from the same side of the slash. But that’s a deeper conversation for another day.

That is my opinion. No, I will not argue it, in the comment section.

Recently, someone asked me what I like to start with when I mentor. What’s the first lesson? What do I teach right out the gate? The honest answer is, it depends. I know how much people hate that response. It is so vague.

Most of my mentoring is tailored specifically to the individual, because no two submissives are the same. I shape conversations, lessons, training ideas, and guidance around the kind of submissive you desire to be. I also say this early and often, I am not an expert. Not even close. Everything I offer is rooted in my lived experience and the education I’ve gathered along the way. I don’t pretend to know everything, and I never want to.

After we talk about consent, autonomy, bodily agency, and your rights as a human being and a submissive, there’s one thing I almost always say next.

Surround yourself with other submissives. As many as you can.

Please don’t make me your only mentor. That’s not healthy, and it is not fair to you. I can only teach what I know. For example, I am not a full time brat, so I would never claim I can fully educate someone on that path. I can offer perspective, sure, but lived experience matters.

Find submissives you admire. Find ones whose energy calls to you. Find ones who submit differently than you do. Each of us carries our own stories, wounds, joys, mistakes, and wisdom.

I like to think of it like a big, infinite buffet table.

Every submissive brings a dish. You get to sit at the table, talk, listen, learn, and taste. You can fill your plate with the things that nourish you, the flavors that feel right in your body and your heart. And the things that don’t resonate? You can simply smile and say, “Thank you,” and leave them for someone else. No guilt. No shame. No judgment!

Always take guidance with a grain of salt. Not everything will apply to you, and that is more than okay. It is healthy. What matters most is that you are happy, your partner is happy, and the dynamic you’ve negotiated together is consensual, informed, and intentional.

You don’t need to submit the way I do. You don’t need to submit the way your friends do. You don’t need to submit the way anyone else thinks you “should.”

You are not them. Your relationship is not theirs.

You are a unique and beautiful person, and that deserves to be celebrated, not corrected. So go to classes. Read books. Devour podcasts. Attend live demos. Ask questions. Listen more than you speak. And when possible, experience things in consensual, risk aware ways. Be informed, be cautious, and be gentle with yourself, because yes, sometimes shit happens, and sometimes we get hurt. Growth isn’t sterile. Learning isn’t always pretty.

But you are allowed to learn. You are allowed to explore. And you are allowed to become the submissive that feels most true to you.