Unfaithful, Unshielded, Undone: Broken by Your Infidelity

Written by Tim Tedder

The Power of Being Broken

When trust is shattered by infidelity, the betrayed partner carries a deep wound. In their pain, they long—not just for an apology—but for their spouse to really feel the impact of the betrayal, to take responsibility without defensiveness or excuses. They want to believe their pain matters.

But let's be honest: most of us aren't naturally wired to move toward pain, especially when we’ve caused it.

In the face of their partner’s grief and anger, the unfaithful spouse often defaults to self-protection. Some retreat into silence, others lash out. Either way, it's a strategy to avoid shame and discomfort: Confess… Move on… Bury the past.

But that rarely works.

A betrayed wife once described her situation like this:

“My husband says he won’t be punished for his transgression. He’s made no effort for transparency or full disclosure. I’m not even allowed to bring up [the affair partner]. He says he’ll leave if I do.”

When remorse is shallow or short-lived, the betrayed partner is left adrift, still hurting, still questioning, and unable to move forward. They need to see not just sorrow, but a genuine shift. One that says: I get it. I’m owning this.

And that shift usually begins with being broken by your infidelity.

What Brokenness Looks Like

It’s not about dramatic tears or performative guilt. It’s about an internal softening—a humility that lays down self-defense and prepares the way for empathy to emerge. It’s when the betrayer stops trying to control the narrative and starts owning the impact. That’s when healing starts.

Some experience it in a single moment; for others, it comes in waves of insight. But however it unfolds, it’s essential. Without it, forgiveness and trust remain out of reach.

If You're the Betrayed Partner

You may be waiting for this moment with your spouse. But here's the hard truth: you can’t force brokenness.

What You Can’t Do:

• You can’t demand it.
  You cannot move your spouse toward brokenness by insisting on it. In fact, if you demand it, you're likely to get the opposite result. Instead of soft vulnerability, you'll get hard resistance. People are drawn toward empathy, not pushed into it.

• You can’t shame it out of them.
  Someone who is shamed into sorrow will be self-focused rather than other-focused. They will experience a "sorrow that does not lead to repentance." Their tears may help you feel vindicated, but they will likely lead to greater isolation, not reconnection.

What You Can Do:

• Find the right voice for your pain. Yes, anger is part of the process—but make space for more than just fury. Share your hurt with honesty, not just heat. Try these steps:
  (a) Commit to writing down your feelings before you speak them, and then talk about them passionately and honestly.

  (b) Express your hurt in different ways. Make up a story. Write a poem or song. Show a clip from a movie that reflects how you feel. Ask your spouse to read a chapter from a book that explains what you are experiencing. All of these are indirect ways to express feelings, but might be received with less resistance.

  (c) When you realize you've acted in a way that inflicts hurt rather than invites healing, admit it and keep working toward more fruitful communication. While you're in trauma recovery mode, you may have little control over emotional outbursts. That's normal. However, in the aftermath of an emotional storm, your willingness to acknowledge the destructive nature of rage will help you and your partner maintain your hope for change.

• Don’t trust someone who stays unbroken.
  The humble expression of remorse from an unfaithful spouse is a crucial first step in the healing process. Without it, there is little chance for renewed trust. How brokenness is shown will differ from one person to the next, but genuine contrition will be repeatedly and sincerely communicated in some way. You cannot force it to happen, but you can refuse to risk ongoing vulnerability with someone who does not assume responsibility for the consequences of their betrayal.

• Find other outlets for your anger.
  Physical exercise, venting with a trusted friend, working with a counselor, and expressing negative emotions through solitude are all alternative options for managing emotions. It's also important to understand the feelings that lie beneath the anger (usually fear, powerlessness, injustice, shame, or hurt) and discuss them honestly.

If You're the Unfaithful Partner

If you haven’t yet experienced brokenness, if you're more focused on moving on than leaning in, here’s where to begin:

Don’t Run from Their Pain

Stay present even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.

• Don’t wait for the next blow-up. Initiate hard conversations. Say: I want to hear how you’re feeling. I know I can’t fully understand, but I want to try. This may be one of the hardest things you have ever done, but your spouse needs to feel heard and understood.

• Do this over and over again. This kind of healing doesn’t happen in days or weeks. It takes months, sometimes more. There will be times when you become so tired, frustrated, or discouraged that you shut down or lash out. When you do, apologize for it and keep doing the work.

• Put yourself in their shoes—fully. Imagine the roles reversed. Picture your spouse in a secret relationship, maybe even with someone close to you. Picture the betrayal in vivid detail. Sit in it. That imagined pain? It’s only a shadow of what your spouse is feeling.

Don’t Run from Your Own Pain

It’s tempting to numb out, to avoid guilt and grief. Don’t. If you don’t feel anything, that’s not strength; it’s a sign that you need to dig deeper.

If you have not been broken by your infidelity, talk to someone who can help you face the pain instead of fleeing from it.

What Brokenness Feels Like

One woman shared this about her husband’s eventual shift:

“When he walked in the door, I saw a broken man. He sobbed on the couch beside me—I had never seen him cry. I was angry, hurt, but in that moment, my heart broke for him, too.

“His letter said he knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness. He made it clear his goal wasn’t to make me stay, but to own what he had done. As we sat there, I told him I didn’t know if I could ever move past it—but I also didn’t know that I couldn’t.”

That moment didn’t fix everything. But it changed something. It was the beginning of healing.

Let me leave you with one more example from a letter written by an unfaithful wife. Here’s part of what she wrote to her husband:

“If I could somehow take this pain away from you and bear it myself, or restore peace to your mind and heart, I would. There is no way to rewrite or undo the damage I have done, no matter how much I wish it were possible. I am so sorry for hurting you.

“For all the sorrow and regret I feel, I take heart in knowing we do have the power to change our story moving forward from a troubled and fractured marriage into one we both dreamed of—one that leaves an example of love and commitment to our children and everyone who cares about us.”