Serial Cheater Quotes

You may remain a couple after betrayal and even establish a quality relationship, but the mental anguish never leaves, and your soul will haunt you forever.

Let me start with this: I am an apostate. I have lied. I have cheated. I have done things in my life that I am not proud of, including but not limited to: • falling in love with a married man nineteen years ago • being selfish and self-centered • fighting with virtually everyone I have ever known (via hateful emails, texts, and spoken words) • physically threatening people (from parking ticket meter maids to parents who hit their kids in public) • not showing up at funerals of people I loved (because I don’t deal well with death) • being, on occasion, a horrible daughter, mother, sister, aunt, stepmother, wife (this list goes on and on). The same goes for every single person in my family: • My husband, also a serial cheater, sold drugs when he was young. • My mother was a self-admitted slut in her younger days (we’re talking the 1960s, before she got married). • My dad sold cocaine (and committed various other crimes), and then served time at Rikers Island. Why am I revealing all this? Because after the Church of Scientology gets hold of this book, it may well spend an obscene amount of money running ads, creating websites, and trotting out celebrities to make public statements that their religious beliefs are being attacked—all in an attempt to discredit me by disparaging my reputation and that of anyone close to me. So let me save them some money. There is no shortage of people who would be willing to say “Leah can be an asshole”—my own mother can attest to that. And if I am all these things the church may claim, then isn’t it also accurate to say that in the end, thirty-plus years of dedication, millions of dollars spent, and countless hours of study and

Once you've done an awful thing once, it doesn’t withhold you from doing it again. You know the saying―once a cheater, always a cheater? The same thing applies to murder. Maybe Christianity is a loophole. Do a bad thing, repent for your sins, and do it again―guilt-free.


This mess is yours, and I feel sorry for that baby because his mother is a liar and a cheater and a manipulator. With you as a role model, you’re either going to raise a serial killer or the next president.

It's okay if our charm gets a little banged up along the way, don't you think? Or a lot banged up. I just—I have to believe we're all good and worthy even when we don't have clear, concise stories where everything we went through makes sense, and our issues are predictable and our quirks are only minorly quirky, never distractingly quirky. Sometimes big, shitty things happen like a serial cheater and it makes us twitchy about new relationships. Other times, we have a slightly chaotic childhood and we're almost paralyzed with anxiety as adults. The hit doesn't have to be hard to leave a dent. And regardless of the size of that dent, I need to believe we're all okay. That it's our rusty, banged up charm calling out and asking for acceptance.