Whether open or monogamous, all relationships are defined by rules. Rules, promises, vows even. In an open relationship , rules are a little different. Their contents, and your relationship to them as a couple, is open season. It sounds really vague, but when applied to the other rules, it means we can have generous conversations about the unruliness of human emotions.
And it worked, for a while. But eventually I met someone who asked me on a fourth date. A fourth date on which I wanted to go. The sex was good, my emotions were in check, and he was fit. Of course, the fear of me leaving my partner after three dates — which is why we made the rule in the first place — now seemed completely absurd.
Three dates versus nine years. And so when we talked about this fourth date, it seemed like a no-brainer. It was in this process of exploring, of stretching and bending the rules, that we formulated new rules in our relationship. Change takes time, and generosity takes understanding. And so we talked, we questioned, we fought a little, and we even went to bed angry.
But with each different scenario came opportunity for deeper understanding about our fears, our desires, and areas of our relationship that maybe need more care. When I first started down the route of open relationships, it all seemed so odd. So many rules, both boring and fussy. Seems like a rather unromantic paradox to me. In previously monogamous relationships, I often found that bringing up the rules of our entanglement could incite a complicated conversation that felt more like I was questioning both the relationship and monogamy itself.
I probably was, and I perhaps think that my monogamous relationships could have benefited from questioning too: to ensure it was really right for us both, to ensure its maintenance. It ended because we both cheated. Although that cheating was symptomatic of incompatible desire and incompatible experiences of jealousy.
