117. Dealing With The Online Comments Section After Infidelity
- Luke Shillings

- Dec 17, 2024
- 9 min read
The internet can feel like a war zone when you’re looking for answers after betrayal. Whether you’re the betrayed partner or the unfaithful one, scrolling through the online comment section after infidelity can quickly amplify your fears, doubts, and pain. But those comments don’t define you. They reflect someone else’s pain, biases, and experiences, not your reality.
In this episode, I’m diving into why we're drawn to online comments when we’re vulnerable, how they impact our emotional health, and what you can do to filter out the noise. You'll get practical tools to help you stay grounded in your truth and reclaim control over what you allow in.
If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, judged, or shattered by what strangers have said online, this episode will help you step back, tune out the noise, and refocus on your healing journey.
Key Takeaways:
Online comments reflect others’ pain, not your truth.
Confirmation bias makes us latch onto the words that reinforce our fears and insecurities.
You don’t need strangers in the comment section to tell you who you are; you already know.
Protecting your mental health means learning to filter harmful input and focus on what serves your healing.
💬 Reflection Question:
Before you scroll, ask yourself: Is this serving my healing, or is it making it harder?
Connect with Luke:
Website: www.lifecoachluke.com
Instagram: @mylifecoachluke
Email: luke@lifecoachluke.com
Join the After the Affair community at www.facebook.com/groups/aftertheaffaircommunity

Episode Transcript:
You know the feeling, you're scrolling through the comments after a late night google search. You're looking for answers, looking for reassurance. But instead, it feels like you've just walked into a battlefield.
Opinions, they're flying everywhere. Once a cheater, always a cheater. You're weak if you stay, or you're selfish if you leave.
These words sting. They echo the doubt that you already have, and before you know it, you're spiralling. But here's the truth.
The comments section isn't about you. It's a reflection of others, pain, their biases, and their perspectives, not your reality. So why are we letting strangers' opinions dictate how we feel about our own healing journey? In today's episode, we're diving into the dark world of the online comments section, how it impacts the betrayed and the unfaithful partners alike, why it feels so personal, and most importantly, how to protect yourself and reclaim your emotional peace.
The After The Affair podcast with me, Luke Shillings, is here to help you process, decide, and move forward on purpose following infidelity. Together, we'll explore what's required to rebuild trust, not only in yourself, but also with others. Whether you stay or leave, I can help, and no matter what your story, there will be something here for you.
Let's go. Welcome to the After The Affair podcast. You're listening to episode number 117 with your host, Luke Shillings.
Let's start with why we even end up there. If you've been betrayed, or if you're the unfaithful partner trying to make sense of your actions, the internet can feel like a lifeline. You want validation.
You want to know that you're not alone. You're looking for clarity in a situation that feels impossible to navigate. But here's the problem.
The internet isn't neutral. It's a mix of other people's pain, their projections, and unfiltered opinions. And let's be honest, comments sections are rarely filled with gentle, balanced responses.
Instead, they're emotional landmines. The betrayed partner reads, if you stay, you're pathetic. And the unfaithful partner reads, you're a monster.
How could you? And when you're already hurting, these words land hard because they reinforce the fears you already have about yourself. Am I weak? Am I unloveable? Am I irredeemable? You latch on to the worst comments and suddenly, they feel like the truth. But here's something I want you to remember.
Comment sections are where hurt people shout into the void. It becomes an echo chamber. They reflect somebody else's pain, not your reality.
So why do the comments hit us so hard? The answer lies in something called confirmation bias. It's a psychological tendency that we all have, whether we realise it or not, to seek out evidence that reinforces the beliefs that we already hold, especially about ourselves. When we're struggling, when you're struggling, you're feeling vulnerable or you're doubting your choices, you unconsciously look for validation.
The trouble is, sometimes we're not really searching for positive validation. We're just looking to confirm our already terrible or possibly even worst fears. For example, if you're the betrayed partner who has decided to stay and work on the relationship, but you carry a fear that this makes you weak, you'll zoom in on comments that scream, you're pathetic for staying, or they'll just do it again.
You deserve better. And those comments hit. They land because they echo the insecurity that you already feel, amplifying the voice in your own mind of self-doubt that's been whispering in the back of your head.
If you are the unfaithful partner on the other hand, trying to own your mistakes and rebuild trust, but deep down you question your own worth, you'll latch on to comments that say, once a cheater, always a cheater, or you're selfish, you'll never change, you can't change, people don't change. And the sting comes from how closely those words align with the guilt and the shame that you're already carrying. It's not because these comments are true.
It's because they match the emotional wounds that you haven't yet healed. They take the fears that you're trying to push aside and hold them up like a mirror, and in that moment it feels personal. As though the stranger behind the keyboard somehow knows you, sees you for who you are afraid you are.
But here's the thing, the people writing these comments don't know you. They don't know the late night conversations, the tears that have been shed, or the effort you're making to piece together something that feels so broken. They don't see the nuance of your story, the love, the mistakes, the growth.
They're speaking from their own pain, their own biases, and their own experiences. A person who was hurt and left might write, no one can ever forgive a cheater. A person who stayed but never healed might write, it's not worth it, leave now.
Their words are a projection of their journey, not an objective truth about yours. The comment that stung the most, it probably wasn't about you at all, it was about them and their grief, their anger, their unhealed wounds. And while that doesn't make their words right or fair, it does strip them of their power when you recognise it.
Instead of seeing these comments as judgments of your character and your choices, start seeing them as reflections of someone else's experience. Their story isn't your story, their fears aren't your truth, and their pain isn't yours to carry. When you let go of the need to internalise those words, you keep yourself the space to stay grounded in your own reality, one that's defined by your values, your healing, your choices.
Because at the end of the day, no one knows your path better than you. So what do you do when the comment section feels like quicksand? How do you keep yourself from sinking? The next time you find yourself hovering over a comment section, stop, ask yourself, what am I hoping to find here? Is this helping or harming my healing right now? Be honest with yourself. If you're looking for clarity, support or answers, there are better, healthier places to find it, I can assure you, like a trusted friend or a professional.
You don't have to consume everything that's out there either. Unfollow accounts or pages that just fuel negativity. Mute or block the voices that bring you down.
Just because someone has an opinion doesn't mean you need to hear it. Think of your emotional well-being like a garden. You get to decide what grows there, and then you also get to protect it from the weeds of the unhelpful opinions that surround it.
This is the most important point. Comments are not objective truths, they're noise. You don't have to tune into every station on the radio.
You can turn down the volume, you can change the channel entirely. If you read something hurtful, remind yourself, this is somebody else's pain speaking, not my truth. Their opinion doesn't define me or my journey.
It might sound simple, but reframing the way that you see these comments takes the power out of them. It puts you back in control. Then, instead of letting strangers write the story of your life, take the pen back.
Ask yourself, what do I believe about myself? What values do I want to live by? What do I want my healing to look like even? The comment section might try to label you. It might try to call you weak, selfish, unforgivable, but you don't have to accept those labels. You get to decide who you are, and you get to decide what your healing looks like for you.
Imagine this, you're standing in front of a broken mirror, trying to see your reflection. You lean in a little closer, searching for clarity, but all you can see are the cracks. They distort your face, fragmenting it into pieces.
You look wrong, broken, incomplete somehow. The more you stare, the more you start to believe that the shattered version staring back at you is who you really are. That's exactly what the comment section does.
It reflects back a distorted version of yourself. The words you read, the judgments that you see, they twist and fracture your sense of self. Instead of showing you who you really are, they reflect the cracks in your own self-doubt, your fears, and your insecurities.
And then suddenly, the pain you already feel becomes amplified, and the reflection you're seeing feels so real, it's hard not to believe it. Maybe I am broken. Maybe I am weak.
Maybe I can't fix this. But here's what I want you to remember. The mirror is the problem, not you.
Those cracks, those hateful words, the judgement, the shame you feel, they're not an objective truth. They're distortions created by people who don't know your story, by strangers who are projecting their own pain, and by your own fragile, vulnerable thoughts that are searching for validation, just in the wrong place. And here's the truth that's so easy to forget when you're staring into that broken mirror.
You are not broken. You are not a fragmented version of yourself just because you're going through something hard. You are whole.
You are complex. You're a resilient human being navigating one of the most painful and challenging experiences that life can throw at you. And the fact that you're still here, still searching for answers, still trying to grow, that's proof of your strength.
You don't need strangers in the comment section to tell you who you are. Their words can't define you unless you let them. You already know who you are, even if you've momentarily lost sight of it.
You are someone who cares deeply, who feels deeply, and who is doing their best to make sense of something that doesn't always make sense. That takes courage, it takes grit and determination, and no comment on the internet can take that away from you. So here's what I want you to do next time you feel like you're staring into that broken mirror.
Step back, put the phone down, take a breath. Remind yourself that what you're seeing, the judgement, the noise, the distortion, it isn't real. It's not you.
It's just a reflection of cracks that don't belong to you. Instead of letting those cracks define you, turn to the people, the places, and the truths that reflect who you really are. You're whole, you're capable, and you are worthy of healing, because that's the version of you that actually matters.
That's the reflection that you deserve to see. The internet can feel like a war zone when you're looking for support, but here's what I want you to take away from this episode. The comment section is not your truth.
Other people's pain is not yours to carry. You get to protect your healing and decide what voices you let in. If you're feeling overwhelmed, remember this, you don't have to navigate this alone.
There are better, safer spaces to get the support you need. Spaces that build you up, not tear you down. One of those places is the After The Affair community.
You can come over and visit us at facebook.com forward slash groups forward slash After The Affair community, or you can click one of the links in the show notes. If you want to take that one step further, then you can also explore what coaching looks like. You can schedule yourself a Let's Talk Discovery call from my website at lifecoachluke.com, or you can contact me directly at luke at lifecoachluke.com. So next time you find yourself scrolling, searching the comment section, take a deep breath, put that phone down, choose you, choose your healing.
Thank you ever so much again for joining me today. If this resonated with you, I'd love to hear from you, not in the comment section, but in real human way. Until next time, take care of yourself and your healing.
I'll speak to you all very soon.




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