She didn’t tell me that was the reason she left me until much later when we met at an event. We were both talking about our past—the love we used to share and the fights that seemed to have no reason. I still loved her, even though we had been broken up for several months. In fact, I loved her more than the woman I was with at the time. I asked her, “Why didn’t we work out? I thought I was doing my best.”

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All that time, I had assumed she left because she suspected me of cheating, as that was the last fight that led to our breakup. But she told me, “It felt like I didn’t exist in your world. You were with me, but you’d look at other women to the point where you’d turn back to stare at them even while I was right next to you.”

I laughed because it was true, but I hadn’t realized she noticed. I didn’t even see myself doing it—it happened almost instinctively. “It was embarrassing,” she continued. “And the hurtful part was that the women you admired that way looked nothing like me. So it felt like you were with me only because I was available and said yes, not because you truly loved me.”

I was quiet for a while. The truth hurt, but this revelation humbled me. I said, “You should have told me. I would have changed for you.” She replied, “You didn’t take me seriously when I brought it up. It’s in your DNA. I hope you don’t do it to your current girlfriend.”

My current girlfriend had complained about it several times. Sometimes, I thought I was being subtle, so she wouldn’t notice. I would glance at such women out of the corner of my eye without turning my head, but she would still catch me and say, “Go ahead, turn and look. Who’s stopping you? God knows you can’t resist. Just turn and watch to your heart’s content.” Sometimes, she’d even grab my head and try to turn it with her hands.

I love to watch women who catch my eye—the busty type, those blessed with a great figure, those who take a step and something about them wiggles, whether in the front or back. When they’re fair-skinned and the sun falls on their skin, they glow in my eyes, and I can’t help but admire the beautiful handiwork of the Creator. The irony, as she pointed out, was that I dated someone who didn’t have these features.

I loved to watch, but it wasn’t a criterion for love. I didn’t think of pursuing these women because, to me, love is a local affair. You fall in love with what’s next to you, not with someone you think might come along someday. But when I lost my second girlfriend because of this same behavior, I told myself, “These women aren’t lying. If I enjoy watching women of that nature and stature, then my next girlfriend should have those physical features so life would be easier for me.”

I took my time—a lot of time—to find Jane. What doesn’t she have? Back? Front? Sides? She has everything in perfect proportion, along with the skin tone to complement all these blessings. Our relationship is only four months old, but I’ve already received over four warnings about this same behavior. She’ll say, “What don’t I have that you’d give this much attention to a stranger? Tell me what I lack!”

So, I’ve limited the times I go to public places with her. She herself doesn’t want to go anywhere with me because I’m a red flag. At this point, it feels like a curse hanging around my neck. Back then, I did it instinctively, but now it’s a conscious, intentional effort. My neck hurts from turning it so much. My relationship is bruised because it’s taken too many beatings from my constant turning. These days, I see them coming and immediately turn to look at Jane to see if she’s watching me. Our eyes meet, and I laugh, but she’ll say, “Go ahead, turn and watch. Isn’t it your God-given talent?”

They say I need to develop enough discipline to say no in my head and resolve in my heart not to look. So, I’m trying. I don’t cheat on my women—far from it. I don’t treat them as unlovable objects. I do my best in love. We go on dates, and I enjoy that. When you’re my girlfriend, the world will know because you’ll be with me wherever I go. I’m the last person on the phone with you at night and the first to say good morning. I don’t think I’m a bad lover, but this behavior is the toxicity that’s wilting my relationships.

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

Writing about it, I’ve read, is one way to help develop discipline. I’m on course. I only watch what’s in front of me now. I don’t turn backward or sideways to keep looking. It’s a good start. It’s a good thing that I’m dedicated to breaking this curse before I lose my future wife at the altar, all because I turned to look at the behind of the lady who came to the pulpit to give us a solo.

—Solomon

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