The Other Woman: Don't Trust Zeus!

In ancient Greek mythology, Hera, the goddess of marriage and women, took revenge on Zeus’s mistresses, one after another. Zeus, the god of thunder and king of Olympus, had many lovers. One of them, when she became pregnant by him, was relentlessly pursued by Hera’s wrath, which denied her a safe place to give birth, leaving her wandering aimlessly, heavily pregnant, exhausted, and lost. Another was driven by Hera’s anger until her story became intertwined with her transformation into a fierce, hairy bear. Hera did not stop there; she also directed her fury at one of Zeus’s most famous sons by another woman, the hero Heracles, subjecting him to a series of troubles and challenges one after another. This was Hera’s approach toward Zeus’s mistresses: she placed them in the line of fire, venting her jealousy, anger, sorrow, regret, and bruised pride and femininity, rather than confronting her husband directly. And Zeus would simply manipulate her with sweet words one time, apologize the next, and then repeat his infidelities a thousand times. Does Hera, the goddess of marriage and women, resemble some women today? This brings to mind the song “The Other Woman,” the famous classic reinterpreted by Lana Del Rey, which inspired the title of this article. The song portrays the image of “that other woman,” the different one who breaks the routine, perhaps younger, cuter, and more distinct from the housewife. As for the housewife, or “so-and-so’s mother,” according to the ready-made narrative sold to the other woman, she is no longer the beautiful, cheerful, and intriguing woman she once was. She has wallowed in the smell of the kitchen and children’s duties, her body has changed, time has taken its toll, and she has become irritable, sensitive, and unnecessarily provocative. The reason, of course, is her hormones or menopause, or both! This is precisely what the “wronged husband” might say. He maintains his family’s stability and endures his wife’s presence, “squeezing a lemon on himself,” then recounts his tragic plight to his mistress, insisting that he is the victim in this story. The other woman may not easily be convinced, as the lie has become commonplace, worn-out, and multi-purpose. Yet he offers excuses, supports them with “evidence,” creates magic, and may even be ready to pull a rabbit out of a hat to persuade her that he is the victim and that his wife is the perpetrator who destroyed his happiness. I am not generalizing here; there are indeed women who ruin their marriages with their own hands, and there are marriages that end emotionally long before they end on paper. However, in many stories, we hear only one side, and the truth may be more complex than what is told. Amidst these many narratives, two women may find themselves facing each other, while the man at the center remains outside the wrestling ring. When the first woman discovers the truth, she may blame the second woman and “take her by the hair.” The second woman, however, may not even know of the first woman’s existence; the tale that the first wife is dead, divorced, or that he is not married at all remains a relatively common lie. When the truth emerges, she may feel jealous and shocked, or reluctantly believe the wronged husband’s story, wishing she were in his wife’s place, with a husband more tender and understanding. Meanwhile, he may place her in the category of “the other woman,” alongside other women with whom he repeats the same story or similar ones. If he truly planned to marry her, or if, in his view, their love story transcended logic and boundaries, or if he knew he would never be faithful and thus avoided marriage altogether, the scene, despite its heaviness, would be clearer and less absurd. I am not defending “the other woman” nor seeking excuses for her; she may be deceived and unaware, or she may know and choose to continue. Between these two scenarios lies a moral distance that cannot be ignored.

I merely say that the harsh truth remains the lesser of two evils compared to a carefully crafted lie, which is then left to two women to pay the price for, while its maker stands outside the wrestling ring, proud of his deeds. And what about you, Eve? Returning to Hera and linking her story to Eve today, we find that despite her power and authority, her anger was not always directed at Zeus himself; often, his mistresses and their children paid the price. This resembles some women today who pretend not to see, perhaps hoping God will guide them, or hoping infidelities will disappear on their own in the blink of an eye, or that he will one day grow bored and everything will end. But Hera often took revenge on other women, so do not be like Hera! In a marital relationship based on a clear covenant, a husband’s responsibility for his infidelity cannot be transferred to another party; no adult is kidnapped from another adult, and the excuse that she seduced him or that “the daughter of Satan cut him down” should not become a means to exempt him from his responsibility. As long as he is a sane adult, he is responsible for himself, his awareness, his choices, and the commitment he made. This does not necessarily absolve the other woman of her moral responsibility if she knew the truth; it simply means that her responsibility, however great, does not erase or replace the responsibility of the one who made the covenant.

Zeus’s psychology may resemble the image of the unfaithful man who is never satisfied, never happy, and never content, no matter how much power he possesses, like Zeus’s terrible might, or beauty and splendor as described in myths, or wealth, authority, and stability in his home. He tries to fill a lack that is not necessarily caused by the first woman, nor the second, nor even the millionth! As long as he is a slave to his desires, unable to face himself and his reality, you will not find him marrying his lover, fulfilling his obligations to his wife, or even choosing a clear path to bear its consequences, such as polygyny, divorce, or other options. Instead, his role is limited to transient relationships shrouded in promises and flattery, from which he creates an inescapable routine. Perhaps honesty, although it does not necessarily make the action correct, still has a lighter and less burdensome impact on the heart and soul. Therefore, beware of trusting Zeus! Do not look for your rival in the other woman, nor necessarily hate her, and do not hate yourself or allow your trust to shake, even though words are far easier than actions. Try not to enter a wrestling ring created by a man who then sits and watches; the other woman may be wrong, may be deceived, may be hung up on love, or may know everything but not care at all! But regardless of her position in the story, she was not the one who made the covenant with you. Direct your anger first to where the fault began, and leave Zeus to his mistresses, excuses, and tricks; the problem was never that Hera was not enough, but that Zeus would never be satisfied! As for you, the other woman, know that you may not believe me, and even if you do, you may not obey me. You may be deceived, infatuated, aware of the truth and determined to cause harm, and each case has its own responsibility and moral judgment. But it is certain that on this earth, there is always someone more beautiful, more mature, and more loyal. Whoever has not made up his mind about you and has not put you on a clear path is not worthy of you fighting yourself and others for him. Finally, do not fight in a losing battle, and do not pay its price with your energy, dignity, and morals, for not every man deserves to have a first woman and a second woman for his sake.