One of the most frustrating experiences I hear from couples recovering from sexual betrayal sounds something like this: “I’m trying to be empathetic. I’m listening. I’m using the words I’ve learned. But my partner says I still don’t understand.”

Sometimes the betrayed partner puts it even more bluntly: “You’re just saying the words.”

This can be confusing for the partner who caused the injury. They may have read books, listened to podcasts, learned reflective listening, and practiced phrases like “I hear what you’re saying” or “Tell me more.” 

Those can all be useful skills, but empathy is not primarily a set of words. And one of the most important shifts in betrayal recovery is learning that the purpose of empathy is not to make your partner feel better. It is to understand them better.

Are You Measuring Empathy by Whether It Works?

Many people—especially people who are accustomed to solving problems—approach their partner’s emotions with an understandable question: “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Their partner is angry.

Hurt. Grieving. Afraid.

They listen, validate, apologize, and try to say the right thing. But underneath all of that may be another hope:

Maybe if I respond correctly, she’ll feel better.

Maybe we can get out of this painful place.

Maybe we can finally get back to normal.

That turns empathy into a subtle form of emotional problem-solving.

A different measure of empathy is this: Instead of asking, “Did I make my partner feel better?” ask, “What do I understand about my partner’s experience now that I didn’t understand before?” 

That changes the goal completely.

Your partner may finish the conversation still angry. She may still be sad. She may still need distance.

And the conversation may nevertheless have been deeply empathic.

Empathy is not measured by whether you changed your partner’s feelings. It can be measured by whether your partner’s experience changed your understanding of them.

Why “Just Sitting With It” Can Be So Difficult

For many people who have caused betrayal injuries, another person’s unresolved pain is extremely uncomfortable. There is an urge to do something.

Fix it. Explain it. Apologize again. Provide context. Point out progress. Correct something that seems unfair.

Or, when none of that works, withdraw.

The problem is that the betrayed partner may experience all of those responses as another form of not being heard. Sometimes there is nothing to fix in that moment. Your job may simply be to: Understand. Stay. Get curious. Don’t fix. 

That sounds simple. It often isn’t–because staying with your partner’s pain may mean staying with your own shame, helplessness, fear of rejection, and uncertainty at the same time.

When Empathy Starts Feeling Like Agreement

Here is a common example. Imagine your partner says: “There were no good parts of our marriage.”

Your immediate reaction might be: That isn’t true. You remember vacations, holidays, laughter, raising children, inside jokes. Moments when you know you were both happy.

So you respond: “Come on. I know I hurt you, but you can’t say there were no good times.” You may even be factually correct. But you may have completely missed what your partner was trying to tell you.

The first step toward empathy is simply noticing what happened inside you.

Inside, it may feel like: Ouch. I disagree with that. I want to correct it. I’m afraid she’s erasing everything good about our marriage. 

That’s not wrong. Those are your feelings. But authenticity doesn’t mean every feeling you have needs to become your partner’s material in that moment. Sometimes recognizing your reaction is enough.

Then, instead of correcting your partner, get curious: “Tell me what you mean by that,” or “What’s been the most painful part for you?” or “What has happened that makes the painful parts overshadow the good ones for you now?” And then listen.

Betrayal Can Put a Question Mark Over Good Memories

Your partner might say something like: “Even during the good times, I didn’t know what you were hiding. Now I don’t know which memories were real.”

That changes the conversation. She may not literally mean that the two of you never laughed together or never enjoyed a vacation. She may be saying that betrayal has changed her relationship with her own memories. 

You remember the beach trip and think: We had such a wonderful week.

She remembers the same trip and wonders: What didn’t I know? Was something happening then that I couldn’t see? Was he fantasizing about someone else? Was he acting out before or after that trip? Was the marriage I thought I was experiencing actually the marriage I was living in?

The memory hasn’t disappeared. Its meaning has changed. You may still experience it as a good memory. Your partner may now experience the same memory with a question mark beside it. Both of those experiences can exist.

You Don’t Have to Correct the Record

This is where people often lose empathy. Their partner describes the marriage in a way they believe is incomplete, and they feel an urgent need to restore balance: “But it wasn’t all bad.”

Again, that may be true. But when you say it at that moment, you may be answering the factual question: “Did anything good ever happen in our marriage?”

Your partner may actually be asking a much deeper question: “What parts of my own marriage can I trust anymore?” Those are entirely different conversations.

Your need to correct the record can interrupt empathy before empathy has time to develop. A helpful reminder is: Her experience doesn’t have to cancel yours for you to make room for hers. 

You don’t have to surrender your good memories. You don’t have to agree with every conclusion your partner reaches. You don’t have to pretend that your experience of the marriage was identical to hers.

For this moment, you are simply trying to understand what the marriage has looked like through her eyes.

“Do I Need to Answer This—or Understand It?”

This may be one of the most useful questions a partner who has caused betrayal can learn to ask.When your partner says something painful, pause before responding and silently ask yourself: “Do I need to answer this—or do I need to understand it?” Often, at least initially, the answer is: Understand it.

Notice the rebuttal forming in your mind. Let it sit there. You don’t have to destroy it or prove it wrong. Then become curious. “What was that like for you?” or “When did you feel that most strongly?” or “What did you need from me then that you weren’t getting?”

And listen long enough to discover something you didn’t already know. That is different from waiting for your partner to finish so that you can finally explain yourself.

Empathy Is Not Making the Pain Disappear

After betrayal, it’s natural to want the relationship to move forward. You may be tired of the sadness, anger, distance, and uncertainty. You may desperately want your spouse back.

But your urgency to get out of the painful place can itself become another obstacle to empathy.

Your partner’s pain does not necessarily mean you are failing at recovery. Her anger doesn’t necessarily mean the conversation went badly. Her need for distance doesn’t necessarily mean the marriage is ending. And your discomfort does not mean something needs to be fixed immediately.

Sometimes recovery means developing the capacity to say, internally:

I don’t like this.

I wish she weren’t hurting.

I wish we were closer.

I’m afraid of what this means.

And I can still stay.

That may be one of the deepest forms of empathy after betrayal: learning to tolerate another person’s unresolved pain without turning it into a problem you must solve or a threat you must escape.

So after your next difficult conversation, perhaps don’t ask yourself: “Did I say the right thing?” And don’t even begin with: “Did she feel better?” Ask yourself: “What do I understand about my partner now that I didn’t understand before?”

If you have a new answer to that question, you may be learning what empathy actually means.

Tim Martin, PhD, LCSW, CSAT, CPTT, CMAT is a psychotherapist specializing in sex addiction recovery, betrayal trauma, and couples healing after infidelity.