Relationships and Intimacy

Fidelity: What People Actually Promise Each Other (and Why Telepathy Has Failed Again)

Picture the scene: two people have shared a home for a long time. Then one of them plans to spend a weekend away with friends, among whom happens to be someone from a past romantic relationship.

Article contents

Epigraph

“deliberate mind”

Grotius, The Rights of War and Peace, II.XI.IV, concluding portion, printed page 135; short fragment translated by A. C. Campbell. Source. In context, the marks of an assumed obligation are dissected; fortunately for partners, this historical passage does not establish modern family law.

What This Article Is About

Picture the scene: two people have shared a home for a long time. Then one of them plans to spend a weekend away with friends, among whom happens to be someone from a past romantic relationship. The other immediately unfurls a ceremonial protest banner: “We promised to be faithful to each other!” The first blinks in utter bewilderment: “I’m not hiding anything, and I have zero intention of altering our relationship.”

Both utter the sacred word “fidelity” with righteous fire in their eyes, yet they mean entirely different things: for one, it is a ban on sex outside the relationship; for another, a restricted circle of personal encounters; for a third, transparency regarding significant facts or the unwavering priority of joint plans; and for a fourth, a 24/7 emotional meditation exclusively focused on the partner. Until the terms are decrypted, this is not a dialogue, but a clash between a wounded “righteous soul” and a baffled “sinner.” Yet before swinging the hammer of retribution, it might be prudent to examine: what promise actually existed, who made it, and how did the other party understand it? This article does not prescribe a universal relationship blueprint for everyone. Those who must live with the consequences bear the responsibility of deciding, while ancient treatises merely pose sardonic questions along the way.

I. The Word “Fidelity” Does Not Yet Define a Promise

Humanity adores grandiose words: toss the term “fidelity” like a hand grenade and wait for unconditional surrender. But a familiar noun is not a ready-made contract. To one person, it implies strict physical monogamy; to another, the absence of an undisclosed emotional alliance; to a third, a guarantee not to walk away when the going gets tough. And this marvelous semantic rift often ruptures into plain sight precisely when one of them packs a bag for the weekend.

In our scenario, it is useful to recall: what was actually spoken and agreed upon in the past? Was there an explicit prohibition against socializing with exes? Did both pledge to consult each other prior to scheduling trips? Or did they simply coast along under a poetic, unexamined relationship label? Alas, the fact that you harbored silent, intense expectations does not mean your partner telepathically signed off on your roster of requirements.

One might start from one's own perception: “When we spoke of being faithful, I took it for granted that excursions like this were off the table.” Splendid: the reality of your subjective impression is now on record. But the other person retains full entitlement to present their own account, and they are under no obligation to instantly repent and rubber-stamp your reading as the sole cosmic truth. If recollections clash—congratulations, only that modest divergence has been established so far.

The crucial discipline is avoiding the sophist’s playbook: if a specific restriction was explicitly undertaken, one cannot nullify it with dismissive jeers like, “Well, we didn't script out every breath and every twig on the tree!” Conversely, neither can one retroactively invent rigid covenants merely because present feelings are hurt and burning. Two brands of honesty are required: remembering what was genuinely accepted, and acknowledging what remained obscure. When evidence is lacking, the matter can simply remain an open question, without declaring one's preferred verdict proven.

II. Feeling, Intention, and Action Occupy Distinct Realms

Pledging an overt action and underwriting every future inner experience are enterprises with vastly different horizons. “I will not climb into someone else’s bed” is a promise of action. “My pulse will never flutter in the presence of an attractive human being” is unscientific fantasy. The utmost sincerity of an intention today does not supply manual steering over tomorrow’s spontaneous impressions.

In Hugo Grotius’s The Rights of War and Peace, II.XI.II–IV, a clear line is drawn between signifying a present intention and assuming a deliberate, binding obligation. This is a text on historical natural jurisprudence, not an active family code, and the rationale of antique jurists certainly grants no deed of serfdom over a living person.

An individual can register the charm of an acquaintance and consciously elect not to pursue it, mindful of an existing commitment. The thought alone does not constitute infidelity. Whether a passing spark is branded a crime is a matter of personal values and chosen boundaries, but no one has yet learned to read another’s mind by the arch of an eyebrow. At the same time, using involuntary feelings as an alibi for conscious conduct (“it just happened, I was swept away”) remains a cheap evasion: while inner emotions are not on trial, individuals remain personally accountable for their chosen actions and tangible fallout.

Furthermore, remember: promises such as “we will always ring in the New Year together” cannot be executed in isolation. The integrity of a word is measured by its real scope, not by grand collective wishes. One can commit to one's own share: proposing a time in advance, coordinating schedules, and turning down competing invitations once agreed. The joint outcome hinges upon both partners; its absence alone does not establish a breach by one party.

III. The Implied Is Not Always Imaginary

Life is brief, and negotiating every breath is an impossible chore: couples lean on shared customs and baggage imported from childhood. An implied rule can be entirely genuine if it was truly shared and recognized by both, rather than existing merely as coincident actions. But if your family tradition demanded checking in at every transit stop, moving in together does not mean your partner automatically enlisted into that monastic order.

One partner texts “home in 15 minutes,” viewing it as a tender gesture of care; the other replies with a courteous emoji, never imagining this creates an eternal duty to file status reports. A month later, an operatic drama unfolds over charges of treachery. A voluntary gesture by one party does not clasp a symmetrical yoke around the other’s neck.

At times, one must soberly admit: we simply never spoke about this directly. It is equally essential to distinguish naive ambiguity from deliberately dwelling in the fog—where one party realizes expectations diverge and purposefully preserves an advantageous haze. Such an intent cannot be diagnosed merely from silence: it demands concrete facts or candid admissions. Shared generic catchphrases cannot substitute for mutually understood substance. Looking into the facts does not license snooping through private correspondence without consent.

IV. Assent to a Model Does Not Silence the Individual Voice

Inventing a resounding label for a relationship takes five seconds flat. But a flashy moniker provides zero immunity against disastrous decisions. Within any framework—monogamous or otherwise—one can either respect personal boundaries or extort “consent” through emotional blackmail and exhausting scenes. The antique doctrine granting weight to consent extorted under duress finds no harbor here: a battered “yes” squeezed out simply to stop a screaming match is not worth the breath spent uttering it.

If one partner requires strict exclusivity and the other refuses to guarantee it, hammering a square peg into a round hole is futile. One cannot sanctimoniously brand the former “spiritually backward” or the latter “incapable of love.” You can desire whatever you wish, but your wish creates no mandate for another person to contort themselves inside out.

In the Analects, I.13, master Youzi hammered home that keeping one’s word only holds water if the underlying agreement squared with what was right in the first place. It is Confucian moral counsel tailored for a hierarchical world of ancient China, not a bedside dating manual, so dragging its ancient social hierarchies onto modern lovers is absurd. The comparison is deliberately narrow: stubborn reliability in execution does not excuse you from scrutinizing what cockamamie nonsense was actually promised. Furthermore, if refusing invites punishment or makes the situation unsafe, pack up the dialogue tools — this text is not a personal safety manual or body armor for toxic showdowns. But even when the air is entirely clear, grunting an exhausted “fine, yes” merely to terminate an unbearable evening is tranquilizing noise, not genuine consent.

V. Fidelity Does Not Mandate Identical Lives

A commitment does not evaporate simply because a sudden personal whim flared up, nor does it fuse two independent individuals into Siamese twins. Agreeing on sexual exclusivity does not confer inquisitorial rights to police playlists, artistic tastes, rosters of companions, or private philosophies.

One partner signs up for a rock-climbing club and spends an evening training with the squad, while the other perches on the sofa lamenting a betrayal of devotion. Hold on: unless that specific evening was pledged for a shared engagement and absent other terms, this is fundamentally an issue of time allocation. The substance of an accusation of infidelity has yet to be established. Otherwise, fidelity degenerates into house arrest coupled with the prohibition of an autonomous identity.

Yet liberty is not an all-purpose escape hatch either: if an evening was promised to your partner, a sudden urge to sip smoothies with fellow athletes does not expunge a preexisting word. Proposing an adjustment is fine, but the partner is entirely free not to be thrilled.

It can help to categorize shared life with sobriety: matters decided strictly in unison; matters communicated so as not to wreck joint logistics and finances; and territories where each retains unhindered autonomy. Taking a night-shift position may look like a personal career choice, but if it torpedoes established joint evenings and shared financial commitments, sit down and negotiate the overlap rather than retreating behind the bunker of “this is my autonomous realm!”

VI. A Religious Promise Rests on Its Own Foundation

For some, fidelity is far more than a secular non-aggression pact—it is a sacred vow. Reducing it to a dry transactional consumer clause misses its fundamental nature. Yet diverse religious traditions and individual believers interpret that covenant in wildly divergent ways.

In the Gospel of Matthew, 5:33–37, Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount links instruction regarding oaths directly with the unvarnished straightforwardness of one’s speech. This is spiritual counsel regarding truthfulness before God, not a covert domestic legal code or an excuse to unilaterally impose neighboring commandments onto a reader's head.

If a union is sacred to one partner while the other approaches it as a secular agreement, neither can unilaterally decree their personal faith as self-evident law for both. One must state plainly what the vow represents and discover whether the other is prepared to share that gravity. Coercing someone into holiness has never produced a saint.

VII. Terms Do Not Change Retroactively

Human beings possess the audacity to grow, evolve, and periodically discover that an old lifestyle pinches at every seam. This does not make the original promise insincere—at the moment it was uttered, it may have been pristine. But one cannot unilaterally rewrite the rulebook in silence while expecting a partner to keep performing from the obsolete score.

In the Nicomachean Ethics, IX.3, Aristotle wrestled with the dilemma: what becomes of a friendship when one friend undergoes a radical change of character? Ancient Greek virtues offer no paint-by-numbers solution for modern crises, yet they capture the heart of the matter: one cannot pretend the shared past never occurred, nor can one ignore present realities.

If one partner can no longer sustain agreed-upon exclusivity, the honest path is to articulate this clearly before jumping into outside adventures. The other partner is fully entitled to reject the revision. That brings an impasse: new consent does not exist, compromises are not obligated to materialize on command, and this article promises no sugary happy endings. Past promises do not convert a person into perpetual property. Yet revision cannot obliterate past historical facts and tangible consequences: if an agreement was broken in secret, one cannot declare post factum, “Well, I updated my perspective, so let's agree it was consensual all along!” That is not how it works.

VIII. Verifying Facts Versus Constant Surveillance

When trouble brews, facts must be disentangled from hyperactive imaginations. What actually transpired? What did we explicitly agree upon? What do we know for certain, and what did anxious catastrophizing invent? The sensation of suffocating jealousy is real as an emotional state, but it serves as zero proof of betrayal. Conversely, a lack of smoking guns does not obligate an individual to force themselves into enduring a relationship model they find unacceptable.

Consider an alternative scenario: the weekend excursion comes to light only after the traveler returns. One person shouts, “You hid everything!” The other parries, “We never agreed to file itinerary reports!” Before leveling charges of moral depravity, clarify: was there a direct question, a deceitful answer, or an established agreement to disclose? Direct knowledge, secondhand accounts, and assumptions must be kept strictly separate.

Bear in mind: an obsession with attaching an armed guard to a partner never restores shattered trust. Even if both agree to temporarily exchange additional information, one must define the scope, duration, and opportunity for reassessment. This is neither a guaranteed technique for restoring faith nor a ticket to emotional peace. Demanding perpetual surveillance is unacceptable, just as branding a refusal to empty one's pockets as proof of historical guilt is fallacious: “Aha! Refusing to hand over your unlocked phone proves you were unfaithful five years ago!” If living without total control feels unbearable and the partner declines to be managed, acknowledge the fundamental incompatibility rather than constructing a domestic surveillance state. Reading personal messages without consent remains an ethical breach. Where threats exist or saying “no” is unsafe, this mutual exercise is unsuitable; safety and appropriate help take priority.

IX. Following a Breach, Promise and Forgiveness Are Not the Same

When a breach is indisputable, it is naive to expect that admitting fault acts as an eraser across all consequences. One can experience authentic remorse without magically mending the shattered vase. The other may genuinely forgive in their heart while firmly latching the suitcase shut forever. Forgiveness, apology, responsibility for conduct, willingness to continue the relationship, and the rebuilding of trust are five entirely distinct realities, not an automated assembly line.

A flippant “Look, I said I’m sorry, why are you still bringing it up?” does not dissolve another person’s pain. An apology records an assessment of past conduct; honoring newly defined parameters demonstrates present reliability; yet neither offers a warranty that an inner revolution has occurred.

Partners can agree on how and when to revisit the issue without letting it colonize every single day. Acknowledging the absence of such an agreement is equally important. Accountability does not mandate kneeling indefinitely in the corner, but forgiveness cannot be demanded like change from a cash register: honesty is commendable, but it carries no contractual guarantee that you must be granted close proximity again.

X. Returning to the Weekend with Friends

Let us return to our pair standing over the suitcase. The objective is not to stage a public execution, but to identify precisely where the tracks diverged. Perhaps traveling with former partners was explicitly off-limits in the past—in which case the issue at hand is a desire to renegotiate a known term; an attempt to talk through the future is not yet a violation. Perhaps the agreement was strictly “no sleeping around,” leaving wider social spheres unaddressed—presenting a fresh challenge. Or perhaps each simply remembers the past differently.

Next comes the assessment of current desires. One wants to embark on the trip; the other states plainly that such an arrangement is emotionally intolerable. The parties can discuss shifting the guest roster, rescheduling dates, or setting check-in parameters. Yet compromise is neither mandatory nor always attainable: sometimes open dialogue candidly uncovers absolute incompatibility, and that too is a legitimate conclusion, not a failure.

If a new understanding is reached, articulate it without romantic fog: who does what in concrete terms? What requires advance notice? Where does personal autonomy begin and end? When will this arrangement be revisited? These questions do not turn a union into a sterile bureaucracy; they merely tether abstract notions of “love” to the soil of concrete actions. The fidelity of a living person embraces freedom: to listen to change, to accommodate it, to deliver a resolute “no,” or to pack one’s bags in good time.

What This Means in Practice

If both parties are willing to engage voluntarily, select exactly one term that is currently understood differently. Each person independently describes their previous understanding and articulates what baseline it was founded upon. One can quote exact words, reference established precedents, or candidly admit that the assumption rested entirely on hopeful telepathy. This is an editorial reflection, not psychological therapy, and not a courtroom procedure to prove a violation; this exercise is strictly unsuitable for dynamics where refusing or saying “no” is unsafe.

Next, take a sheet of paper and divide it into three distinct columns:

  • What we both regard as genuinely agreed upon;
  • What we previously assumed in silence and interpreted differently;
  • What specific proposals we put forward for the future.

Do not attempt to fill in your partner’s secret motives or hidden thoughts. Did memories clash? Leave that section as an open question rather than wrestling over the sole canonical history of the past. Formulate prospective proposals as observable actions and clear boundaries, not as unreasonable demands for guaranteed lifelong immunity from external impressions. Each person holds every right to say, “I cannot commit to that,” which does not imply automatic consent to an alternative being pushed upon them.

If a new rule is mutually settled, agree on a distinct trial period or a concrete event for reassessment. When the date arrives, examine objective facts rather than pronouncing an existential verdict on human nature over a single misstep. Unable to find common ground? Record the fact of disagreement and the available pathways: taking a breather, resuming the conversation later, or parting ways. No single outcome is mandatory. This exercise provides no ironclad promise of reconciliation, marital preservation, or restored trust. Its aim is modest: bringing latent assumptions into the light, sorting them cleanly, and refusing to conflate private fantasies, observable facts, proposals, and freely accepted obligations.

To conclude the exercise, you can test its linguistic symmetry. Are you capable of articulating your own commitments using the exact same uncompromising language you just directed toward your partner? Symmetry is not about tallying an identical count of chat notifications; it is about equal access to meaning: a standard must not change its color depending on who happens to stumble. If both agreed to give advance notice before traveling, one cannot covertly exempt one's own trips from that identical definition. Potential exceptions must be negotiated separately. If you seek asymmetric duties, possess the candor to propose that openly and secure genuine agreement, rather than cloaking double standards under grandiose speeches about fidelity.

Key Quote

“good faith”

Grotius, The Rights of War and Peace, II.XI.XVIII, concluding portion, printed page 142; short fragment translated by A. C. Campbell. Source. This preserves a strictly moral inquiry regarding fidelity to one’s own word, without endorsing all historical doctrines of obligation.

Interconnections Between Traditions

  • Grotius, intention and obligation ↔ Editorial inquiry regarding specific promises: historical legal classifications help bring the core dilemma into sharp relief, without functioning as a modern family code.
  • Youzi, righteousness of agreement ↔ Matthew, directness of speech: shared emphasis on honoring one’s word despite fundamentally different ethical and theological foundations.
  • Aristotle, changing friendships ↔ Editorial review of future terms: a sober recognition that human beings evolve, where ancient virtue ethics illuminates interpersonal complexity without imposing a rigid script on the reader.
  • Matthew, instruction on oaths ↔ Grotius, philosophy of obligations: this juxtaposition clarifies the difference between a sacred vow before God and historical jurisprudence on duty, which itself contains religious roots.
  • Confucian fulfillment of one’s word ↔ Editorial distinction between boundaries and control: personal dependability and steadfastness have nothing in common with total subjugation or ownership over another human being.

Primary Sources

  • S1. Hugo Grotius, The Rights of War and Peace. A. C. Campbell; M. Walter Dunne, New York and London, 1901; Gutenberg 46564. Selected portions II.XI.II–IV, VI–IX, XVIII–XXII; the English translation is abridged and omits chapters, not representing the complete original Latin text. A treatise on historical natural jurisprudence, not positive law.
  • S2. Analects, I.13. James Legge, Gutenberg 3330; read the saying of Youzi and immediate context, not the entire work. Print publication year of copy unestablished; no literal quotes included.
  • S3. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, IX.3. W. D. Ross, Internet Classics Archive; selected section examined, not the entire volume or original Greek text. Print edition unestablished; no literal quotes included.
  • S4. Matthew, 5:33–37. Updated World English Bible, 66-book protocanon; selected verses and version status, not the entire New Testament. Religious moral teaching, not an empirical study.

Tags

fidelity, promise, word, relationships, love, freedom, agreement, consent, exclusivity, expectations, intention, action, feeling, openness, responsibility, revision, change, vow, religion, directness, trust, jealousy, control, autonomy, boundaries, forgiveness, Grotius, Aristotle, Youzi, Matthew, Confucianism, Christianity

About the Authors

Andrey Zarinsh — author and founder of the United Wisdom project. Explores themes of inner transformation, the unity of traditions, intercultural dialogue, and contemporary spiritual practice. Instagram: @andrey.zarinsh.

Maria Evilkut — co-author of United Wisdom. Alongside research work, she seeks to test these ideas in practice and observe how principles of unity and mutual understanding function in real life between people and cultures. Instagram: @ilkutki.