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Why we shouldn’t empathize the ‘wronged’ woman

Why we shouldnt empathize the wronged woman
(Illustration: Liberty Antonia Sadler for Metro.co.uk)

It happened to Doctor Foster. Your friends have substantially been dubbed it. Hell, even Jennifer Aniston went by it. The ‘wronged woman’ is a tag as old as time itself.

In Hollywood it’s no opposite – just this week, Ewan McGregor was graphic smooching his Fargo co-star Mary Elisabeth Winstead  while his wife was reportedly sans matrimony ring.

And while Ewan and his new partner were enjoying their code new relationship, his disloyal wife has been portrayed as ‘humiliated’. The pictures even ‘prove it’, with her looking downcast, sunglasses-clad and exhausted.

It’s tough not to see these pictures (which conveniently make her seem not a patch on her disloyal husband’s new younger, perkier model) and get frustrated.

Because given are we told to empathize the wronged woman?  The ‘humiliated’ wife. The ‘wronged’ girlfriend. The ‘scorned’ lover. These are sleepy tropes attributed to the lady who has been cheated on and honestly I’m wearied of it.

Why is it that we always adopt a ‘how sad’ account to women who’ve been cheated on?

Why we shouldnt empathize the wronged woman
(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

It’s a story informed to both luminary and non-celebrities – Jennifer Aniston gimlet the brunt of sorry interviews, where her whole career arena came second to her being famous as that lady that Brad Pitt left for a hotter version. We only laid off bad Jen once she got married given of course, she got her happily ever after with a man – the only excusable outcome.

Never mind that Ewan and his wife had lived detached given May and never mind that their separate could have had an gentle finish with both parties similar to date other people. For all we know, she could have a partner on the side but just hasn’t been graphic with him.

I’ve been both the charlatan and the cheated on (a good sip of kismet we substantially deserved) and anyone who’s been cheated on knows the whole process.

The grieving, the anger, the vengeance-seeking theatre (usually posting voluptuous photos on Instagram in the vain wish he’ll see and HOPEFULLY assume you WILL be getting with that man he was always worried about), and of march the unconstrained crying.

But given can’t we reshape intrigue as an event for women to not be tied up in a attribute that no longer works?

metro illustrations
(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

When my ex cheated on me, all my friends (and some of his) rallied round, with one even apologising for having introduced us.

While it was primarily good having their empathize while we sent mad messages to pronounced ex, after on, we realised that being the ‘sad mopey ex’ was a moniker we didn’t utterly fancy.

After all, if there’s intrigue on any side (or both) in a relationship, there must have been problems that possibly party hadn’t communicated.

Maybe one of you isn’t finished the whole infrequent sex thing. Maybe one of you doesn’t wish commitment. Or maybe the interest of the 19-year-old Swedish girl in Budapest was a enticement too distant (him. Definitely not me).

There could be innumerable reasons for intrigue but for me, amidst days of ruminating and good that we must not have been good enough, being cheated on actually let me realize that it was an event to finish a attribute that was hugely poisonous and draining.

I no longer had to worry when he went on a night out and didn’t return my messages but mysteriously had followed a half-clothed girl on Instagram.

I didn’t have to worry about given his lies never seemed to supplement up or given his promises of a weekend divided unsuccessful to ever materialise.

Now that I’ve been in healthier relations where trust and probity are plain foundations (and yes, the interest of getting a calm after a night out still isn’t lost on me), we can see that these behaviours weren’t healthy and contributed to a lot of anxiety.

Getting absolved of a lie led me to know how critical self-care was, and done me dedicate time to numero uno.

So farewell to these sleepy tropes of the sad, depressing lady (and my intrigue ex). Let’s applaud being free from crappy relations instead.

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