What Did You Replace a Cheater With?

The Friday Challenge is to tell CN what you replaced a cheater with. Sanity? Improved partner? Puppies?
***
So, there’s this terrific early Aretha Franklin song you should all listen to (yes, I’m that sort of pedantic person who wants you to listen to her playlist, and control the radio dial, and the flipper, and… LISTEN TO HER GREATNESS!) It’s called, “You’re Taking Up Another Man’s Place.”
You don’t want me
And you don’t want nobody else to want me
What kind of man
What kind of man are you?You don’t need me
And you don’t want nobody else to need me
What kind of man
Are you trying to send me to?Now if you’re not gonna take care of business
Then you ought to stop taking up space
‘Cause you’re just taking up, that’s all you’re doing
You just taking up another man’s placeAw baby, you don’t even
You don’t even want me to go to the store
What kind of man
What manner of man are you?You run over me
You run right over me trying to answer the telephone
Tell me what kind of thing, what kind of thing
What kind of thing you think you gonna put me through?You keep me wanting
You keep me wanting the one thing you never gave
Well, right here right now
You can stop taking up another man’s spaceBaby, I been faithful
And you know I been true
But if you’re not gonna love me, baby
Tell me what do you expect me to do?You keep me wanting
You keep me wanting the one thing you never gave
Well, right here right now
Right here right nowYou can stop taking up another man’s place
If you’re not gonna love me baby
And you know I need somebody to love me
You’re just taking up another man’s placeIf you really don’t need me, baby
If you say you just don’t need me
You just, oh, stop taking up another man’s place
I love it when Aretha sings “What MATTER of MAN are YOU?” — the fuck off dripping from every note.
Which brings us to the point of this weekend’s exercise — If you haven’t left a cheater, or the mental baggage, or their shit in your closet — it’s taking up valuable space. Space that could be better spent on, well, ANOTHER MAN (or woman). Or happier thoughts. Or a Konmari-ed closet of zen-like tranquility.
So why are you hanging on?
What did you replace a cheater with? You can answer this anyway you want to.
I threw out all the reconciliation books I bought on Amazon, and replaced them with Agatha Christie mysteries!
I dumped all my Switzerland friends and made new friends!
I took all that mental real estate I was leasing to untangling his skein of fuckupedness and filled my brain with astrophysics instead!
And of course, those of you further along on the Meh-Mobile, may have another partner in the cheater’s place. (Or maybe you adopted some really great dogs.)
Tell Chump Nation what you got rid of, and what you got that’s better.
TGIF!

During the worst of the aftermath from DDay, I replaced FW with a heating pad in bed, therapy and comedy movies. I was divorced in one year and started dating… and eventually replaced FW with a man who was more helpful, more fun, way sexier and made me happy. And I started painting and drawing again. Oh! And I was able to light candles again (FW wouldn’t allow) so I also replaced him with beautiful sensory things that brought calm to my space.
I replaced him with peace and quiet. No more television constantly blaring, no more preparing meals for a man who histrionically retches at the sight of a vegetable, no more looking at clipped fingernails and hair in the bathroom. I’m no longer seething with anger, resentment, and yes, disdain.
My single life is absolutely lovely, and I’m enjoying it immensely.
Yes yes!!! My X shaved his body and put on disgusting cologne. I told him repeatedly that it was itchy and smelled up my allergies. HE.DID. NOT CARE. I had no idea why really innocent of the world. So I am breathing free air and my body does not break out in rashes. I gave up itching and sneezing
37 years ago, I replaced a 6ft 2inch bully cheater with a coercive 5’11 cheater.. it took me a long long time to parse out what I had done… as it started slowly and then morphed onto extreme danger. But now I have replaced my 2nd abusive cheating X of 31 years, with a 600 square foot cozy, warm and filled with love apartment in a 55plus quiet community.. The peace that surrounds me, the nightly joy of being left alone without mood swings and coercion, the absolute calm of knowing I will never have to play nurse, therapist, sex worker, mother, father, caretaker, appointment taker, nor” wheeping “widow to a life time abuser because of his sad childhood and my pity..brings me the greatest joy of my life. Totally replaced my cheater with P E A C E.
Out with:
* The seething rage he emanated
* The discord he sowed between my daughters
* His clothes—listed them all on Poshmark for five bucks
* His golf clubs—donated them to the high school golf club
* false reconciliation and sex that literally made my skin crawl post D day
* godawful snoring
In with:
* new puppy
* new house
* starting the degree program he didn’t want me to do
* going to the gym whenever I want
* cereal for dinner
Whenever things are tough, I just remind myself of all of the things I’ve gotten rid of that I had to endure with him. My life is so much better off!
Was that 5.00 per item or 5.00 for the lot? Either way, good show!
$5 per item, but I accepted any offer. It just brought me joy to open the app and scroll down the little square pictures of his stupid clothes laid out. And every time something sold, I said a little prayer that it wouldn’t pass on any of his douchebag-vibes to the guy buying it.
I love that you sold and gave away his stuff.
Amongst other things, I got rid of three dustbin liner bags full of pashminas. It would appear that Ex-Mrs LFTT had something of a thing for a cheap pashmina or two (or three). I’m sure that there’s a metaphor in there somewhere if I cared to look.
What did I replace them with? Peace, love and understanding (love that song), as well as a rediscovery of my own self-worth. It turns out that I was the prize all along (along with our kids) …… and her, not so much.
Have a fantastic Friday.
LFTT
pashminas. ha!
my X compulsively bought things in runs, a sign of his addictive personality: leather jackets, leather gloves, and DVDs. the kids and i joke about the leather gloves which run approx. 45 pairs.
he carefully packed his gloves and left behind most of the essential documents like birth certificate, university degrees, etc. etc. but he took his passport and leather gloves and half the contents of the wine cellar.
You could make a song of it, a take off of My Sharona called Your Pashminas.
Ooh you silly fuckwit hag
Do your shoulders sag
From wearing all of those damn pashminas
Ooh, I think that’s rayon too
But look at you
You ain’t exactly real cashmere either
You’re never gonna stop
Buying Temu crap and
You’re never gonna stop
Picking up the clap, damn!
Your your your, whoo!
Yo-ho-yo your pashminas
Yo-ho-yo your pashminas
Just go with your pashminas.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA and HA.
My fave is rhyming pashminas with Brit pronunciation of “either.”
you made me google pashmina! Glad you are doing better!
I had to look that one as well. My fuckwit had them, too. Might be their calling card.
Jeff,
There were more obvious signs than just a simple surfeit of shawls.
LFTT
I certainly hope f*ckwittery doesn’t boil down to shawls since I’m always freezing between fall and spring and own at least six or seven that double as winter mufflers. 😮
Dawn,
Thank you.
The kids (now 28, 26 and 21, but 18,16 and 11 when she left) and I are in a great place now … it was two years ago today that the youngest two and I moved out of a rental and into our own place. In less that a month the three kids and I (plus eldest two’s partners) are off on holiday to France together.
Life looks pretty awesome from where I’m sat ….. which is a blue velvet Chesterfield sofa that I bought myself as a “moving in present” because I liked it and because I could!
LFTT
i replaced the idiot features ex with Sam Vaknin youtube videos, which i listened to for about a year straight every Saturday morning whilst scraping dog hair off the rug – my hair shed more than the dogs that year, i am sure it fell out from shock but it has all grown back now – then CL got me on to George Simon, so I mixed up the playlist with his wholesome content – no offence I havent listened to George for quite a while and I dont ever want to back to that year of my life ever again – i am now back to doing much more relaxing things like getting recipe ideas off this very good Australian chef called Erin Patterson, she makes a very nice pie using foraged mushrooms
I am laughing so hard! Chef Erin Patterson!
I was not familiar with Erin Patterson and my forst thought was “I thought it was bad to forage for mushrooms unless you are an expert as so many are poisonous and look alike” . I googled her name and had a good laugh at my ignorance.
Hahahaaaa!! 😆😆
MasterChef Erin Patterson could certainly have brought in a bit of business in that area.
Alternatively, it’s nothing a shovel and a bag of lime couldn’t fix.
Please be very careful with foraged mushrooms.
I’m pretty sure I’d pass on any of her recipes. Just sayin’!
sorry it was a terrible joke – i have a very dark sense of humour – i agree, do not use foraged mushrooms, i think the jury will probably come to the same conclusion
I’m in the process of replacing her with travel. A homecoming in Ohio in July, Alaska in August, California in November. Travel is all about being flexible and adapting, and if things weren’t super structured she got very, very negative. So the best solution was simply…not take her. So if you need us, the kids and I will be having adventures!
Replaced balding porn-dick ED FW with fit and sexy fiancé whose good character I have known since childhood.
Replaced gaslighting screaming fights police visits with peaceful home for me and kids.
Replaced frenemy and Switzerland friends with compassionate ones who have a moral compass.
Replaced reading RIC garbage with wisdom of CL blog.
Why oh why did I ever want to stay with FW? I cringe now at my desperation during false reconciliation. I thought my life was ending. Turns out it was just finally beginning, but I had to escape the the mirage first!
Replaced the mirage with a LIFE
Archer, just beautiful..I forgot about ED- severe but that was my fault too.
“Why oh why did I ever want to stay with FW? I cringe now at my desperation during false reconciliation. I thought my life was ending. Turns out it was just finally beginning, but I had to escape the the mirage first!”
I feel this hard. I thought the time post D-Day would kill me. It felt so absolutely unbearable and insurmountable. I trully could NOT envision a future where things were ok ever again.
But the funny thing is he was so abusive in ways aside from the cheating. I don’t know that I ever would have left if it were NOT for the cheating. That seems a common thread here at CN. I’m not the only one. But in hindsight, it is just funny because while the cheating was terrible, the day to day misery was worse.
I see all the chumps with “I can do what I want… cereal for dinner, lighting scented candles” and I hear them, I have so many small examples exactly like that and it is so refreshing.
But to borrow a popular meme, “not having someone ruin my day with their bad mood by 9am on the regular?” That is absolutely priceless. He made the hard times harder, and made the good times less good. He could be so funny and charming, so occasionally there would be these great moments. But they were rare and fleeting because he preferred sitting in his misery and dragging everyone else there with him.
So now, like many other chumps, I celebrate the calm. I celebrate feeling safe and at peace. And yes, every time I light a candle or do some small thing he would have hated, I appreciate it that much more. I don’t know how I didn’t realize how great this would be way back on D-Day, but it’s great all the same and I appreciate every bit of it now.
For the DV survivors my service worked with, cheating was almost always the “last straw”– either that or a severe or near fatal assault that led to arrest and prosecution.
At the time, state sponsored services, run of the mill shrinks and DAs viewed battering survivors who escaped after being cheated on as yet more proof of the then-reigning theory that battered women are drawn to abusers or draw them to themselves, blah blah. Consequently most survivors learned to clam up about that aspect of abuse in order to avoid more shame/blame or having their cases dropped.
Meanwhile, the organization I worked for had a much different view of this as I’ve mentioned before: that, instead of being some masochistic impulse, the timing was all about self-preservation and survival of children. It seemed to be just basic common sense that, when victims perceived their main or only value to abusers was as sexual appliances, being sexually replaced by abusers signaled that the gloves were probably going to come all the way off because abusers had fewer remaining incentives to allow victims to live.
What ignorant bystanders or incompetent helping professionals would see is that victims are only motivated to leave by “jealousy/territoriality” not all the abuse that came before. What we understood is that the sudden steep increase in the danger of staying often suddenly “liberated” victims from Stockholm syndrome– meaning that, the moment the option of leaving became the safer choice, victims would quite suddenly become flooded with all the backlog of clarity, rage and rebellion that had long been suppressed during times when it was much safer to suppress those emotions and impulses and stay put.
In other words, cheating only triggers an abatement of the pacifying anesthetic effects of captor bonding and suddenly the victim becomes pissed off and rebellious towards all the abuse, not just the cheating. And the reason this happens is because the brilliant, ancient, uncanny lizard brain risk assessment faculty decides that the victim needs to be triggered into “fight/flight” rather than “freeze/fawn” as the best strategy for survival.
Because this happens virtually autonomically, even victims can be confused by their own motives but there’s enough study data at this point to understand that victim behavior– like every other living creature on earth– is geared towards survival, not Freudian blah blah psychobabble masochistic self-destruction.
I know you’ve heard this spiel before but I thought I’d repeat it for any newbies who are lurking around. The general rule of DV and coercive control survivors is that they only leave when the danger of staying finally exceeds the very considerable statistical danger of leaving.
I replaced him with empathy, understanding, and a lack of screaming. I helped myself and my son’s heal from abuse with a ton of therapy and it made room for me and my sons who are now college age to be close. So close they come here when they need help or their friends do. This summer I took in a very smart junior in college whose family lives in a broken down trailer in the mountains with no internet and cell phone who are on drugs and I am helping her to start her own small business, while my son is in another state training for his sport. I helped another young woman get into school and she is a single mom. I replace my FW with love, compassion, and a hectic and wonderful life. In return my adopted girls brought me a lovely little “grandson” and they make me crepes all the time. My life is full.
That was beautiful. <3
Replaced ex with a real life!
It took years but I have that honest, lie and gaslighting free life worth living. There is nothing better.
I have peace and happiness instead of the ex’s snoring, bad eating, lies, gross body, the affair partner in my face (unknowingly), disappearing act, sexual rejection and did I mention lies.
Worth every moment I had the claw through the legal fight and overwhelming depression.
There is nothing better than an honest life, lived on my terms and filled with everything I want!
Right? Authenticity. I didn’t realize how much of it I was missing while I was with my FW, but now that I’m cultivating it, it feels amazing!
My job and my college classes. My whole priority had been helping him achieve his dreams, physically helping and encouraging. He dumped me a year after getting his captains bars and cozy office. (I think the plan was to dump me after the next election, a year later) but someone filed an ethics complaint.
So I concentrated on my job and my school and used that energy to boost me. Eventually I became interested in someone else, but that was almost a year after he left.
I replaced the sleepless nights listening for his key in the door wondering just how legless he was going to be this time and what he would find to start an argument about. No more screaming in my peaceful house, money in the bank because I am no longer funding his rounds of drinks at the bar and man-baby toys. Retirement, plenty of solo travel and living within 30 minutes of both my kids and my grandkids. As for him, no idea, although he’ll be over here in August to meet new baby granddaughter. I wonder how long it’ll be before he and my oldest (where he’ll be staying) get into a screaming match caused by his behaviour!
I replaced disordered cheater with:
*Finally owning my own home, something he never wanted to do because it turns out he hated being tied down to anything (including a wife)
*Music that I want to hear playing all the time. When he was home it was his playlist alone.
*Loads of new caring, reciprocal friends, after losing a lot of Switzerland friends
*A living space free of his constant judgment, hostility, coercion, and criticism
*A relationship with the daughters of a close friend, now passed, whom he had long ago isolated me from (because she was ON to him!). One of them gives me adorable “adopted” grandsons who are likely the only grandchildren I will have.
Every day I am grateful for this new peaceful life!
About a month after that idiot moved out(so ~6 weeks after D-Day) and the fog began to clear, I started to make a list of everything we started together and never finished as well as things that I put aside to meet her needs(in the aftermath of D-Day I did a pretty big moral inventory-most of the time off I took from work since I lived with her was to meet her needs-usually cancelling other plans. And still have her self-sabotage.)
I began to one-by-one knock items off of that list. I am still working it down almost 2 years later. It dawned on me somewhere in there that most of them were things that we would start and she would lose interest in because they required…well, time and effort in, really. Or that by mental telepathy I was supposed to glean that she wasn’t interested in anymore(but she would say she was when queried.)
There were still more personal projects and hobby things that I would start and never got to finish, because, again, I was almost completely running the household by myself, working 60 hour weeks, and during the Pick-Me Dance afraid that any time I spent not trying to please her would end my “marriage.” My dumb ass, of course, was in denial that it was already over and I was just torturing myself for a giant unfaithful child.
I began to keep a list of the things that I completed. It was over two pages single spaced long a year after she left.
In short, I replaced her with the peace she once brought me.
Have a Fuckwit Free Friday!
Aretha sang it best!!!💓🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵 dump the pain🗑
A real life. Peace. Gratitude. Self-respect. Agency. Clear thinking. Truth. Dignity. A 1941 Cape Cod. A Miniature Schnauzer. Money that actually stays in the bank.
All of that sounds amazing.
Thanks, CurlyChump! If I’d known how much peace was just waiting for me to grap it, I wouldn’t have wasted 40 years with a FW to reclaim my life.
I got rid of Switzerland friends and having to incorporate sports memorabilia into my home décor. I got rid of exhausting and ever-moving goal posts. I got rid of the hyper vigilance that comes with being the “marriage police” – truth police, money police, worrying about his “friendship” w/the casio (credit: Shakira). I got rid of begging him to show up for me (and our daughter) they way he expected me to show up for him (and then being told why I was being selfish and difficult for asking for that).
What I gained: PEACE! New friends that share my interests and values. A paddleboard! Camping trips! A reclaimed sense of sensuality (turns out my very vanilla requests weren’t ridiculous and I wasn’t a bad partner for not getting turned on, on-command, like a pornstar). The time & money for some laser hair removal and electrolysis!!! OMG what a game changer if you have low-key gorilla genes like me, lol (maybe that’s why I feel so much better about myself – I don’t feel like the human equivalent of 80 grit with razor burn and in-growns all the time.)
AGHHH, incorporating sports memorabilia into home decor sounds like pure hell to me. What bliss and liberation to be free of it!
I replaced the insecure shell of a person I had gradually morphed into with a confident, happy person. I replaced the feelings of panic and fear with peace.
I had only worked sporadically over 27 years with him since we moved often with his career. He had a high-level job that required a lot from me to support it. I was happy to do it, but I realize with hindsight that our whole relationship was about me sacrificing myself and doing everything for him with little reciprocity. Once he started cheating in the last year of our marriage, his behavior toward me was terrible. Frankly, he probably cheated at other times but I didn’t know about it. This time, though, he put me through the hell of the discard phase. I felt worthless. Thankfully when I found out about his secret double life, I kicked him out and divorced him. I went into survival mode and somehow moved myself far away and got a phenomenal job. As a middle-aged woman who had been out of work for so many years, I thought no one would hire me. It seems the universe felt I deserved a lucky break because I ended up getting the best job of my life! Now I am successful in an actual career of my own, I can support myself, and I get recognition for the great work that I do. I have made wonderful friends and I’m active in the community. I barely recognize the sad person I was eight years ago. How far I have come!
I hope that my story encourages chumps out there who worry that they won’t be able to succeed on their own in midlife. You can do it! Life is so much better without the misery of cheater abuse. Once you get away from the crazy, you will be surprised at how much more clearly you can think. When the cheater is no longer there to tear you down, you will flourish. I was like a wilted plant that was starved of water and sunlight. Now I get plenty of sunshine and water because I provide them for myself instead of begging my indifferent husband for them.
You can even live in retirement without a cheater…it is the best of times!!
“Once you get away from the crazy, you will be surprised at how much more clearly you can think.”
Amen.
I plugged all the invisible holes in our joint banking account that had always kept me stressing over my last $20…… and just returned from a solo trip to Ireland! I still have not figured out how he was quietly draining money away from his family for 40 years. And boy was i shocked when my meager income alone suddenly became more than enough to live comfortably! It’s because I no longer was living with a cheating, thieving rat! That’s the only thing that changed!
I had the same experience. I got the house and a much larger mortgage payment in the settlement. I was expecting to be pinching pennies, but I covered all the bills and had money left over. When FW was in the picture all we had were credit card payments.
I replaced him with a urinary tract that is no longer in torment from the irritation of having sex with a damn dirty FW who bangs STD infected skanks. That and peace and freedom in my life, of course. I wish I’d done it a looooong time ago. My urinary tract and I are very pleased with the change. 🙂
Replaced her chaos and abuse with quiet, serenity, peace, and the gym. Then later I met the real love of my life.
I replaced a cheater with a beautiful, snuggly black cat. She has been with me for years, and not once has she spent money on other owners or texted weird stuff to underage girls. She doesn’t even snore. Total win.
I repalced him with me. Me going where I want to go, when I want to go, doing what I want to do, with the people I want to be with. I replaced alcoholics with sober folks. I replaced infected people with disease-free people (as in STIs and STDs) Once he (and all the trash he hung with) was gone, I filled my life with meeting my needs, enjoying life and even helping others who found themselves married to sad, little serial cheaters. The days aren’t long enough for me to do all I want to do now. (Paris, anyone? Yes for me!)
A whole new life, back home, near family and friends I’m still reconnecting with 10 years later. Kids that are happy and whose choices are central to their futures, rather than their dad’s. A new home that I’m self renovating, and a career that has finally recovered after the darkest of days. Most importantly self efficacy, where I make my own decisions for me, rather than worrying about what my ex wants. I could never go back.
a lovely mini schnauzer. so affectionate and loyal, she was the bitch at the breeder and, as we know, bitches are discarded after servicing their childbearing services are no longer required.
the irony of this is not lost on me.
#discardedaftermychildbearingservices
*after their childbearing services are no longer required.
gah.
I replaced nearly everything – my home, home furnishings, my car, my cat, my leisure pursuits. I am comfortable being alone and can choose to be with sober, emotionally literate and community contributors when I want. It wasn’t easy. I feel pride, but not satisfaction. Even after six years, I have new insights into the trance I was in.
My FW had three rounds of cancer treatment. The first round sent him into full blown psychosis and he wound up with a bipolar diagnosis as well. He also developed sleep apnea that made him pee himself at night. Living with him was exhausting. So much caregiving for so little reward.
After he left me for his smoopie, I had so much energy! I went back to school and got my PhD, because why not? With no energy vampire sucking me dry, I could accomplish anything.
After my chronically unemployed, perpetual victim FW abandoned me for her equally basement-dwelling AP (who was pretending to be a 21 year old college student online to seduce my wife… yeah, the less said about that, the better), I replaced her buffoonery with a trio of pet rats, a freshly painted bedroom, a consistently clean house, and – later – a partner who communicates with me, has a strong moral compass, and has a JOB, car, and real life friends. The novelty of being with a fully realized adult person who knows what she wants and knows how to treat others just doesn’t wear off.
I have more time for myself, more time for my friends and hobbies, and expendable income now that I’m not supporting a stinking albatross around my neck. If you would have told me a year ago that this is what my life would look like, I would have said you were lying to me.
I replaced it, him, his enablers, anything that had markings of him (except my two children) with a beautiful life. I mean stunning. I planned, sold all my stuff, bought three tickets, and moved sight unseen to Mexico. I found new friends, a new climate, a new environment, a life of ease and joy. I replaced him with rest. Deep, sound, full hours upon hours, of sleep. I replaced going to my children’s school and running into his exes and currents, with homeschooling, rather worldschooling. I replaced ruminating about him and unending capacity to lie and obfuscate with renewed focus on my career and founded a skills platform that is now helping women all over the world. I replaced wondering where he was and what he was doing with travel plans and excursions. I replaced my love for him with an unyielding and unapologetic love for myself and I did it all because one day I stumbled upon this site, then ordered and read Leave a Cheater, Gain a Life and every other book Tracy recommends. She’ll never take credit for saving people’s lives, she’d rather you take credit for saving your own…but when I tell you, I don’t know where I would be had the algorithm never brought me to Chump Nation, I mean it. Tracy deserves every, single, good thing. EVAHREE SINGLE GOOD THING. She taught me I could replace him with joy.
There is life after it all…I promise.