The parallel you made to your childhood abuse is understandable and powerful, it risks dismissing all critical feedback as abusive projection. In the context of infidelity, many generalized comments (e.g., about the damage to the betrayed spouse, the necessity of deep introspection, or the selfish nature of the act) are not born of mere "ignorance and hurt," but of shared experience and a realistic assessment of the harm caused. Ironically, you are making a generalization here By framing all external criticism as simply "pissing into the ashes," in doing so you maybe insulating yourself from valid, albeit painful, accountability that is often necessary for true reconciliation. The difference between "tough love" (as abuse) and "necessary hard truths" (for healing) is in the intent and delivery, not the content, and you seem to categorize all painful content as the former.
'Nothing More Wrong with Me": Whilst this assertion, while helpful for combating self-loathing, may overcorrect by minimizing the significance of the infidelity. The act of infidelity did cause catastrophic, singular damage to the marriage. Framing it as merely "struggling with a lot of shit and made some bad choices" might be seen as downplaying the profound ethical failure and relational injury, making it harder for the BS to trust that the WS grasps the gravity of the betrayal
Generalizations, while sometimes viewed negatively for their bluntness, hold significant pragmatic value—they are often more useful than they are harmful, especially in contexts demanding a quick decision or an initial assessment. The core logic is simple: they act as efficient cognitive shortcuts that draw on observed patterns.
A generalization based on high-probability outcomes provides a crucial advantage: efficiency in risk assessment.
Let's use your infidelity example. While a precise statistic like 99% is unrealistic, if historical data or sociological studies suggest that a high percentage of individuals who have cheated once will cheat again, then the generalization "they'll only do it again" becomes a highly effective piece of advice for the betrayed spouse.
A person facing a crisis needs to make a decision—stay or go. If the chance of recurrence is 70%, 80%, or even 90%, advising them to "get out while the getting's good" is a strategy of risk mitigation. It prioritizes protecting the individual from a probable future harm, despite the small chance they might be the exception.
While seeking the exception might offer a "warm fuzzy feeling," insisting on a deep, individualized analysis in a high-stakes scenario can lead to paralysis by analysis or, worse, prolonged exposure to predictable emotional damage. This is one of the most common things I see on this forum. A generalization provides a necessary, practical guidepost.
The resistance to generalizations often stems from a deep-seated, but often misplaced, belief in absolute personal uniqueness. People dislike being categorized because it feels like a denial of their individuality. However, from a psychological and sociological perspective, human behavior is remarkably patterned.
In high-stress, emotional situations like infidelity, the number of rational, predictable responses is quite limited. The intense emotional pressure channels behavior into recognizable streams.
There aren't an infinite number of "cheater" types. There are patterns—the habitual narcissist, the emotionally avoidant, the mid-life crisis responder, the opportunistic hedonist, etc. Each type has a relatively predictable set of motivations, excuses, and post-discovery actions.
Similarly, the betrayed spouse follows common, though painful, trajectories: the immediate trauma reactor, the rationalizing fixer, the depressed avoider, the angry confrontationalist, and so on.
People may believe their combination of preferences is unique, but the building blocks are widely shared. If you know a few key demographic, socioeconomic, and personality data points, you can often predict major life choices and aesthetic preferences with surprising accuracy, because human societies and cultural influences create clusters of common traits.
Trust me, if you feel open enough to share your story, dollars to doughnuts I can link you half a dozen remarkably similar cases with remarkably similar wayward. As an academic exercise, there is a really famous book by an authors name we are prohibited from mentioning. I urge you to read this book. In reading the book, it's stunning how accurately she captures cheaters. How they act. How the respond. Don't believe me? Read the thousands of comments and reviews echoing this. 'My husband acted entirely the same' so on and so forth.
Evidence for these patterns can be noted here in the JFO forum, how often we see response such as: "Jeez, I could have wrote this myself." This isn't a coincidence; it's a testament to the universal human scripts that play out when core relationships are shattered. The emotions, the excuses, the defensive mechanisms, and the stages of grief follow an almost identical roadmap across countless individuals.
Generalizations are not meant to be the final word; they are simply the highly probable starting point. They tell you where to focus your attention and which pitfalls to avoid first.
In complex human interactions, accepting that one's story is frighteningly similar to others is not a diminution of one's pain, but rather an empowering realization. It means that others have been through this, their patterns can be studied, and therefore, a roadmap to recovery already exists. Generalizations simply make that roadmap immediately accessible.
[This message edited by DRSOOLERS at 12:05 PM, Thursday, October 23rd]
