OK, maybe I’ve been reading too many sword and sorcery novels recently. I seem to be on a campaign about helping people under­stand the true nature of wedding vows. More and more I’m believing that the making and keeping of oaths is incred­ibly impor­tant to who we are as human beings.

Recently in the news­paper, we’ve seen lives lost and careers ruined. As always, the emphasis get placed on the out-​​of-​​bounds sex. But it’s the lying and the oath-​​breaking that are shat­tering lives and families.

Often the lover is blamed. (and what’s this with the return to the use of the word mistress? That’s a word from a by-​​gone era if ever I’ve heard one. And it makes pretty clear that the rela­tion­ship is unequal and finan­cial in nature.) And women would be better not to sleep with other people’s husbands. But they’re not in the marriage, so I’m less concerned with them in this column. I’m more inter­ested in the people breaking the vows. (and it’s not all men, although the ratio still seems to be 2:1 men:women given the stats avail­able on marriage.)

Marriage vows (much like oaths of office) are meant to be kept. They should be constructed so you can keep them. (For another unde­ter­mined time, you can still grab the Wedding Vow Work­book over in the shop. It’s on sale at the moment, but it will be disap­pearing soon for a facelift. The wedding vow templates are free in the corner. Sign up, if you haven’t already.) Being a person of your word is impor­tant to you (to me, to everyone). Promise keeping (and promise breaking) shapes your under­standing of your­self. Who do you want to be? How do you want to be known? How do you choose to live your life?

Tip: The deci­sion isn’t made by fate or love. The deci­sion is made by you. If you love someone enough to plan a life together, then love them and your­self enough to take that seri­ously. If it turns out to be a wrong deci­sion, you may want or need to change it. But incon­ve­nience or lust are pretty stupid reasons to give up your integrity. Thoughts?

Adul­tery has gone prime time. Every­where you turn, you see it swirling. And what we’re finding out is that it not only destroys lives, marriages and fami­lies, but can (poten­tially) destroy careers and end lives.

If you look at my different plat­forms you’ll see that I’ve been writing about adul­tery lately. I’ve been getting some surprised reac­tions to my posts and columns. We didn’t think you were that conser­v­a­tive,” folks say.

What people seem to over­look is that I’m not advo­cating that people don’t change. I’m advo­cating civility. (I’m in good company today. David Brooks was also wondering about this.)

You need to keep your integrity and your repu­ta­tion intact. That means acknowl­edging that you’re the person in charge of your deci­sions. That temp­ta­tions are things we give into rather than things that rule us. We have choices. So when you stand before your commu­nity and promise to honor both your beloved and your commit­ments, you’re promising to honor your integrity.  as well. How you maneuver around those vows matters.

Tip: Your self reflec­tion is your greatest gift to your integrity. We’re all tempted in our lives. And keeping commit­ments can be diffi­cult and dirty work. But we made those commit­ments. If we’re going to break them, we need to do that along with the person with whom we made them. We need to face the unpleas­ant­ness as we declare ourselves unable to uphold those promises before we stray.