Please Cheat on Me

Sometimes we want things that don't even make sense to us. Imagine being at a wedding, dressed as a bridesmaid, and while everyone applauds the vows of eternal love, your mind wanders elsewhere: you find yourself fantasizing that your boyfriend, loyal and kind, has cheated on you. Not with an explicit scene, but with the painful detail of an unmade bed, of a room that reeks of betrayal. You feel anger rising; you can almost touch it, even though he has never given you any reason to doubt him. The idea here is unsettling: sometimes our most powerful fantasies are not hidden desires, but tools for exploring emotions that we never allow ourselves to feel in real life. We are brought up to believe that dreaming about a betrayal means we really want it to happen, or that it is a sign that something is wrong. In reality, fantasy can be an emotional gym: inside it, you can scream, destroy things, and push beyond the limits of what you would actually do. Rachel Sontag, the protagonist and author of this story, shares how this fantasy has been with her for decades. No matter who her partner is, in her mind, the scene plays out the same way, over and over again. She discovers the betrayal and gives in to a fury she would never allow herself in real life. She describes plates being thrown, shirts being torn from closets, and mountains of shoes and ties being thrown out onto the street. But in reality, Rachel is the opposite: restrained, controlled, unable to give in to that anger. What is surprising is that this fantasy does not stem from any real suspicion or from a desire to end the relationship. It's almost a need to feel something overwhelming, to put her heart to the test. And here comes the twist: what many would call a toxic thought, or a threat to the couple, instead becomes a way to protect the relationship. By training yourself in your worst emotions, perhaps you become more stable in real life. Yet there is one aspect we often fail to acknowledge: we are accustomed to believing that emotional fidelity is pristine, untarnished by fantasy. But what if, instead, true fidelity is precisely the ability to go through, in our minds alone, the disasters we never truly want to cause? Think of how many people have seemingly perfect relationships, yet harbor small, secret storms within themselves that they would never share, not even with their closest friend. What if these inner storms aren't a sign that something is missing, but rather proof that we truly care? The point is not what we imagine, but what we choose to experience. The takeaway: Sometimes, imagining the worst is the healthiest way to stay on the side of our best selves. If you've ever recognized yourself in a thought you don't dare admit, on Lara Notes you can tap I'm In – it's not a 'like,' it's your way of saying: This idea is mine now. And if you tell this story to someone tomorrow, you can mark it on Lara Notes: Shared Offline is your way of saying that that conversation mattered. This Note comes from The New York Times and saved you about six minutes compared to the original article.