A Pattern of Harm
- Katherine Tatsuda

- Mar 3
- 3 min read

Over the last year, I’ve learned a lot about cheating.
More than I ever expected to.
Not just from lived experience, but from reading, listening, and trying to understand the patterns behind behavior that can leave so much damage in its wake.
Because cheating isn’t just a moment.
It’s a pattern of choices that ripple outward into the lives of many people.
And there is actually a surprising amount of research about it.
Studies have found that people who cheat once are significantly more likely to cheat again.
Researchers sometimes refer to this as sexual repetition behavior — meaning that past behavior becomes one of the strongest predictors of future behavior.
In simple terms, people who have cheated in one relationship are far more likely to cheat again in future relationships than people who have never crossed that line.
That doesn’t mean people can’t change.
But real change requires honesty, accountability, and a deep willingness to examine the parts of ourselves that allowed that behavior in the first place.
And that kind of work is rare.
One of the things I can say honestly is that I’ve experienced cheating from more than one side.
Earlier in my life, I was the other woman in a situation that caused harm.
Recently, I experienced the pain of being the person who was betrayed.
Both sides of that experience forced me into deep personal work.
I had to look closely at my own choices, my boundaries, and the ways I had allowed myself to participate in dynamics that hurt people.
It required honesty with myself.
Accountability.
And a commitment that I would not knowingly cause that kind of harm again.
That kind of work changes you.
But many people never do that work.
Most chronic cheaters don’t see themselves as villains.
In fact, many of them are highly skilled at maintaining a positive self-image.
Research shows that people who repeatedly cheat often rely on psychological strategies like:
Rationalization
Convincing themselves the relationship was already broken, that they deserved happiness, or that what they did “wasn’t that serious.”
Compartmentalization
Keeping different parts of their lives separated so the cheating doesn’t collide with the image they maintain in the world.
Image management
Working hard to appear like a good partner, a trustworthy person, or someone worthy of admiration and respect.
In many cases, the cheating itself isn’t actually about sex.
It’s about validation.
Dopamine.
Attention.
The rush of feeling admired, desired, or powerful.
And because that feeling fades, it has to be replenished again and again.
Which is why chronic cheating often isn’t a one-time mistake.
It’s a pattern.
And patterns tell the truth about people.
But cheating doesn’t only affect the person who does it.
It impacts everyone connected to the relationship.
Partners.
Children.
Families.
Friends.
Communities.
When trust is broken at that level, the damage doesn’t resolve in one conversation.
Or two.
Or three.
Broken trust can shake a person’s entire sense of safety.
It can make them question their instincts, their memories, and sometimes even their own worth.
Repairing trust — if it can be repaired at all — requires extraordinary consistency, transparency, humility, and time.
Not apologies.
Not promises.
And not simply asking for forgiveness.
Forgiveness, on its own, does not break a pattern.
A person can forgive someone and still be harmed again if the underlying behavior never truly changes.
That’s one of the hardest truths people learn after betrayal.
And one of the most important.
Because cheating rarely happens because the betrayed partner wasn’t enough.
It happens because the person cheating has something unresolved inside themselves that no partner can fix.
No amount of loyalty.
No amount of love.
No amount of patience.
No amount of trying to make things work.
What I experienced in my last relationship goes far beyond the word cheating.
That word only captures one small piece of a much larger picture.
But it is one of the pieces I’ve had to work through and understand.
And what I know now — with absolute clarity — is this:
It had nothing to do with my worth.
Nothing to do with my desirability.
Nothing to do with my love.
Nothing to do with my willingness to try and make things work.
It had everything to do with him.
And sometimes people behave in ways that are so far outside the bounds of integrity, empathy, and accountability that the only honest way to say it is this:
It goes beyond being “human.”



