Rough Patches in Our Open Relationship

My latest DA post went live: The Cons I've Experienced in My Open Relationship.

This one was tough for me to write at the time, and is still not my favorite to read. It's just kind of downer for me to reflect on some of the major difficulties I have had! Haha :) But I suppose it's also a great thing to see that I/we got through them.

Contacting Exes

I loved this article on how exes "live on" in our lives because of social media. We may still be connected via so many different sites, it can be impossible to escape their ongoing lives. Short of unfriending people, blocking them, and using extreme willpower to keep yourself from checking up on people, exes live on in our social spheres.

What's the protocol for contacting an ex? The author of this article seemed to have the attitude that contacting exes is simply a consequence of our social media environment. It may bring about uncomfortable, awkward, or self-pitying moments, but it's not something we can really help at this stage of being so overwhelmingly connected.

Here's my reality check: we can help it. You can unfriend people, block them so they don't show up in your feeds- if you really don't want to be connected to your exes anymore. My personal philosophy about relationship leads me to believe that exes can be friends; relationships have the ability to be dynamic and flexible, given that the individuals are willing to move through that change. 

However, I don't think this means there aren't some basic rules of etiquette around contacting exes. An ex asked you to not contact them anymore? Don't contact them. You and an ex parted amicably but haven't talked in months? Don't text them to tell them about your latest sexcapades. You and an ex parted amidst super drama? Don't message them on Facebook to offer your latest fantasy. All of this, in my opinion, is weird.

Analyze your motivations for contacting exes, and for "checking up on them." What are you hoping to gain? Does the communication you want to engage in make sense given where your romantic relationship ended, and where any friendship after the break-up has gone? Explicit communication is key: if you want to be friends again, tell them that. Then respect the relationship for how it moves and shifts; don't force it.

Recognizing the Third in Monogamous Relationships

My latest DatingAdvice.com post is live: Can You Be Monogamous and Attracted to Other People? (I like my title better, haha) I based this post off of Esther Perel's Mating in Captivity, in which she mentions the specter of "the third" (i.e. other people you may be attracted to) and how some couples choose to ignore the third, recognize the third, or invite the third in to their relationship. I wanted to explore some ways that monogamous couples could push the boundaries of their relationship to incorporate sexual explorations, and deepen their sense of honesty and trust.

Here's my intro:

In Esther Perel’s “Mating in Captivity,” she discusses the “shadow of the third.”
That is the fact that even when in coupled relationships marked by commitment and love, we often (maybe always) find ourselves attracted to other people.
By acknowledging the third, keeping your communication transparent and striving to know and understand your partner and yourself, cheating may be less likely to happen (thus preserving the commitment to monogamy you both have made).
What are ways two people can be sexually monogamous, but widen the door for more honesty and trust around sexual desires, fantasies and exploration?
The foundation for this is solid trust in your partner and relationship as sexually monogamous and a healthy way of managing your jealousy and insecurities.
I also believe it is a privilege to learn new things about someone, not a right. Being in a romantic relationship doesn’t give you the right to know about your partner’s private sexual thoughts.
If they, and you, are able to share this information, you should take it as a sign of the health and resiliency of your relationship.

I go on to offer the following ways that couples can be monogamous but add honesty and new sexual flavors to their lives; make sure to go read the post on DA so you can see my further explanation!:

Having opposite sex/opposite gender friends
Reminisce about the past
Watch porn and read erotica together
Share fantasies and attractions
Is flirting ok?
Visit strip clubs together
Visit a swingers' club or party to watch and be watched 

I would love to hear from others: what are other ways that you can be monogamous and recognize "the third" in your relationship?

Intimate Relationships Maps

Have you seen this map before?

Here is my reinterpretation, albeit not as pretty :) I don't particularly like the value judgements in the map above (assuming codependency only happens in monogamous relationships, only depicting empty marriages as monogamous ones- I think any of that can happen regardless of the relationship structure you are in), and I also was a little confused as to why celibacy (which has to do with sexual behavior) was included in the map, when other sexual behaviors were not (kinks, BDSM, etc) (although J did point out that for some who choose celibacy it is about an intimate relationship with themselves or god). I also totally know that my map below is not exhaustive either :)

How do you map out intimate relationships?

Awesome Threesome Experiences

"My 5 Hottest Threesome Experiences" is live on DatingAdvice.com today :) I love this post! So many positive memories, experiences, fantasies, situations to look forward to... And don't forget about my #Threesome #Advanced post I published a couple of weeks ago! (Because that most definitely counts among my hottest threesome experiences)

More Coming Out

Something happened this week that I honestly thought would not happen for a long, long time, if ever.

J told his mom about us having an open relationship.

I still haven't quite digested it all. This has been coming for a while, but I honestly didn't think it would happen so soon before we have our commitment ceremony (we are a month away from it now).

I know his mom has never been able to understand why it's okay for us to have opposite sex friends, why we want to include J's longtime friend (a woman) in our wedding party, or why we seem "cranky" when we talk about wedding planning (news flash: it's because we haven't been able to be authentic with her about why we are truly excited about our party. it's hard to be excited about someone else's values and vision when they don't line up with your own). And she has been/is under the impression that I am not happy in the relationship with J (the fights we have had at home have given her this impression. don't people fight sometimes?).

So she finally called J this week, and told him all this. That she doesn't understand what is going on, but that it seems unhealthy and it seems I am unhappy. He questioned her need to know the inner workings of our relationship. She was adamant that we were in an unhappy and unhealthy relationship. So he just told her. We are not monogamous, and we are very happy with it.

She is not happy with this news (or, she wasn't during the conversation).

I decided to send her an email, modeled after the one that Zoe Hanis from Life on the Swingset wrote to her parents, and edited by both J and M. Here is mine:

[I took out the email for now, because I am nervous that J's mom may search for my letter. She seemed convinced that I used a letter template, and I'm not ready for her to find our blog. If you want to see my letter, just email me! I am happy to share :) And, I'll most likely re-post it here when things have calmed down]

I would hope that we receive something supportive back (like Zoe did here) but I have my doubts. I want to be realistic, prepared to move on in my/our life without their support, and open-minded to different possibilities all at once. That is a lot to be prepared for. But I think I have it. Really, I think it comes down to remaining compassionate, and remembering and striving to give up attachment to the way I want this relationship to look like. 

So far the only communication I have had since I sent that email is a couple of tense, cold emails from J's mom about wedding prep. I am just trying to remain positive- that she just needs time to process and will ultimately be able to be a supportive and warm person in our lives.

J also told her that I am bi. He knows I identify as queer, but didn't want to make the conversation more confusing for her. I get that. It wasn't until this past weekend that I told my mom I identify more with the label queer than with bi. 

And, I made a conscious choice in my email to use the words "nonmonogamous" and "open" versus "polyamorous." It seems to me that "nonmonogamous" sounds like what it means, whereas using the word "polyamorous" requires even more explanation (potentially). I also used those words because I generally tell people we have an "open" relationship since our other activities and relationships and boundaries have evolved so much and will continue to evolve. And, I also went with those words because J used the word "nonmonogamous" in his phone conversation with his mom, and I didn't want to throw more loaded words her way (loaded for her).

It is really important to me to have some healthy emotional boundaries set up, and J and I agree on some key things: neither of us will tolerate arguments or upsetedness about this every time we go home. Time to process all of this is expected, but it can't go on forever. At some point, our relationship will either have to deepen and become positive from it being more authentic, or it will have to revert back to the more superficial, but pleasant, relationship we had. If it it going to be constant questioning and drama, we are not going to stay in touch and remain in as close of contact (including going home for holidays, etc).

Anyone else out there with coming out drama? Advice for me/us?

When Group Sex Sucks

For lack of a better word. What I really mean is: boring, uncomfortable, or stressful. My most recent DA post is on this.

These experiences can feel isolating and just plain crappy. Who wants to be the person to put a halt to the fun everyone else seems to be having? But- it's much better to be this person (in a calm, assertive, and communicative way) than to be the person that holds in insecurities, fears, and needs, resulting in a gross group energy. (been there, done that way too many times) It just takes time to figure out what kind of energies, constellations, and contexts work for you, which means sometimes experiencing less-than-ideal situations. Viewing your experiences as vehicles for personal growth will help you retain a sense of fun, adventure, and love, instead of cutting yourself (and potentially your partner) off from new experiences and people.

I failed to mention in my post for DA how crappy group sex can feel when you or your partner breaks a boundary that was agreed to before the encounter. You may find out about the boundary-breaking during or after the encounter, and I think these instances really do just suck. They can wear down the trust between you and your partner, and take a lot of processing and communicating before apologies are made, forgiveness is felt and given, and you can move forward. Again, I think viewing the experience as a vehicle for personal growth can help facilitate feelings of resolution.

Here is the first part of my post on when group sex sucks (make sure to go read the whole thing!):

"Sometimes group sex experiences are amazing and mind-blowing and way more fun than watching 'Batman.'

But sometimes they are boring, uncomfortable or stressful.

I’m going to shed some light on some of my experiences. (Make sure to look at some of my awesome threesome experiences, too!)

Most of my negative experiences with group sex have resulted from feeling uncomfortable with something or being left out or threatened and not speaking up about it.

So even though I didn’t say anything verbally, J. could always tell by my energy, body language and facial expressions, which would make him really uncomfortable.

Without communicating properly, assertively and in the moment, I have had several less-than-ideal group sex experiences.

That being said, each and every one has taught me something about myself and what kind of support I need.

These experiences have also given me a chance to reflect on what I want and how I need to communicate it."

Primary/Secondary Model, Couple Privilege, etc.

Read this on my new site, SexualityReclaimed!

***

I love being part of the newly formed Open group on FB- it's really refreshing to read other people's perspectives and opinions on poly/open related stuff.

One thing in particular that sparked my interest recently is the idea of couple privilege, and also how the primary/secondary model leaves a lot to be desired (for some).

Here are the articles offered by several friends in the group that sparked such great conversation:

Care and Feeding of Polyamorous Secondary Relationships 

Couple privilege: your thoughts?

Five Things Your Secondary Wants You To Know

I think I could probably think for days and days about all of this, and I think my ideas around it all will be constantly evolving. But some of my ideas today/right now include:

 

For me, the primary/secondary model that J and I ascribe to is out of a recognition that relationships take a lot of time, energy, nurturing, investment, etc. Neither of us knows if we have enough of all of that to build and maintain more than one primary relationship. A primary relationship for us, too, is about long-term planning: financial entanglements, buying property, tax benefits, taking out loans, whether we wants children together, etc. It's also about the values that we share that allow us to enter long-term planning (what do we want to spend our money on, how do we want to live day-to-day, what will we prioritize with our time and energy, etc). It is difficult, but not impossible at all, for me to imagine adding a third person into that complex mix. Really, the primary/secondary model seems to be a way of describing our relationship right now; we are both open to the possibility of having another primary if that is what happens.

 

And yet, it has at times dictated coursed of action with other people (so it has entered the prescriptive mode as well), during which times for me, it did act as a buffer for insecurities that I was having. However, I don't think this is necessarily a "bad" thing, because I don't think other partners of ours have been treated as expendable. I think for the most part, other partners of ours have also operated from a perspective that they are, too, maintaining a primary relationship and understand the complexities of maintaining a healthy and happy primary relationship while building a new secondary relationship. So when insecurities flare up, there has been understanding and compassion all around.

 

I don't think there is anything wrong with being clear with one's capacity for building and maintaining relationships. I know a few monogamous people who sincerely don't want to have an open relationship because they just don't have the drive, time, energy, etc to build and maintain more than one intimate, romantic relationship. Why is it so different when a poly person is honest about their capacity to build and maintain multiple intimate relationships? Right now, I am with a primary partner and a secondary partner. I do not feel like I have the energy to devote to another partner- I would be lying if I said I did. And if I met someone that I really liked, I would have to be honest with myself and them about my limited ability to nurture an intimate relationship with them. If I wasn't honest, I would do disservice to both of us, as well as to my other partners.

 

I loved the "five things" blog post, because it allowed me to reflect on how I feel as a secondary partner to other people and to enter into my feelings of compassion for those in my life who have been a secondary partner to either me or J. I think it can be a tricky, but still wholly satisfying and loving, relationship to build.

 

Couple privilege is both fascinating and boring to me at the same time. Fascinating in that privilege is a hard thing to confront when you are the one experiencing privilege. Boring in that it's so obvious. When I read the blog post on couple privilege I noticed a visceral reaction in my body; my stomach tightened up and I felt attacked. So is the reaction to hearing for the first time about a privilege you have. I don't want to be in an oblivious dominant position. So it can be hard to swallow the first time. My personal solution to this, for now: recognize the privilege I have in being in a long-term coupled relationship, advocate for relationship diversity, educate those who I can about relationship diversity, and maintain equal decision-making within my primary partnership and allow room for our relationship boundaries to change depending on changing needs/desires/wants.

 

Thanks sexy friends for a stimulating discussion!

Pitfall? Again

It's not very often when J reads my posts, and says to me: "I didn't get it. What were you trying to say?"

So... I am going to try to re-write my main point from my last post. 

I was trying to say this:

That the endless possibilities for open relationship structures may allow two or more people to continue trying to mesh ultimately incompatible needs/desires/wants, and allow unnecessary pain to continue. These same people, within a monogamous relationship, may see their differences sooner and move on after chalking up the end to their relationship to simply that- differences in needs/desires/wants.

That was the "pitfall" I was trying to discuss.

Does that make more sense? Ha, maybe not.

I am, again, reminded of this quote off of my amazing poster from Franklin Veaux:

"It is possible for two people to deeply, profoundly love each other but not be good life partners."

And this one:

"Relationships END; it doesn't mean they were a failure, or that your ex-partners are bad people."

Pitfall of Open Relationships?

Talking with my GF, M, I think I have, with her help, begun to articulate a common, or easy enough, pitfall within the open relationship paradigm. (I am super rambly right now; sorry!)

How do you know when you should keep working with your partner on challenging things? When do you simply say: we are just two very different people, and our differences are not compatible?

It seems like open relationships could allow two (or more) people, who might find themselves incompatible within the confines of a monogamous relationship pretty quickly, to spend an agonizing amount of time trying to mesh their ever-widening differences.

I know J and I have gone through conversations (and by conversations, I mean super-high-charged-crying-despondent-argument-like conversations) when we have been in a super low time (mostly last summer; thank goodness we moved through that) that center around this idea. Do we want the same things? Do we have enough in common that we can compromise around the differences?

I think it can become even more confusing when one or more people have an "ideal" relationship structure in mind, but aren't emotionally there yet. Working through personal stuff can take such a long time, and is probably never done (although hopefully gets easier). So then you are continuously living in a "less-than-ideal" relationship which feels stressful and yucky.

So, I think a potentially good solution to this is to begin re-framing your relationship. Given your present factors, does your relationship feel comfortable and happy and satisfying? How does your partner feel? Are any differences or challenges within your relationship worth a short-term struggle? (It is my personal belief that chronic challenges often create chronic stress, which will take its toll on everyone involved, and is not sustainable.) Relationships will always change; they are dynamic creatures, given the dynamic individuals involved. So even if you once held an "ideal" in your mind, stay present within your relationship and work with what you have. Your factors will change effortlessly, and you will be given the opportunities to work through things as you are ready for them. And as long as you are moving operating with happiness and love in mind, even when needing to work through icky stuff (because you will sometimes), your relationship will serve you and your partner(s). And if there comes a time when you simply can't bridge differences, I think it can be helpful (although probably easier said than done) to allow your relationship to simply transition into a form that allows everyone to live in peace and happiness, even if it causes short-term sadness. 

Hypocritical or Just Different Comfort Levels?

What happens when you and your partner have different comfort levels around activities? Right now, I am struggling a little with knowing that J is totally fine with me exploring another relationship, including spending nights and going away for a weekend. However, because I have a pretty good feeling that I would struggle with something in the reverse, I feel guilty enjoying the freedom that I have.

J asked me how I would feel if he wanted a relationship with a man, and wanted to spend nights or a weekend with this person. I said, “Great!” And I totally, sincerely, genuinely mean that. Everything that he has been so comfortable around (hanging out at home with me and my sweetie, letting me spend lots of time with her, staying in frequent contact with her, etc.), I would be as comfortable if J was dating a guy. It sounds fun, hot, and exciting, even if I wasn’t involved at all, except superficially. Thinking about J with another woman brings up very different emotions for me.

The reason why I don’t feel hypocritical is that I know how committed I am to self-growth, to providing space and flexibility to J, and to our relationship. Even though I have a good feeling I would struggle if J wanted to go away for a night or weekend with another romantic partner, I also know that I would ask for what I need so that I felt supported and as safe as possible. I also know that something like that wouldn’t happen spontaneously in a void: hopefully I would know J’s other partner to some degree, like them, trust them, and feel respected by them, and most likely, a weekend away would happen after some time (not after a week).

And J also said that if he didn’t like my sweetie, he probably wouldn’t be as supportive. I said, too, that if he felt threatened by the relationship he probably would have a hard time, and he agreed. So I think we are similar in those respects as well.

Right now, I am trying to process my feelings of guilt out of my system so that I can just enjoy a new relationship and person and experience. I should funnel those feelings into feelings of gratefulness toward J, and feelings of excitement into my new relationship.

Working through Challenges v. Incompatibility

I was talking with a customer at work the other day, and surprise surprise, it comes up that he and his somewhat-of-an-ex and he have tried working with open/poly relationship structures and principles before.

After talking a little about their history (extreme jealousy on her end, preoccupation with school on his, possible cheating and boundary breaking on her end, unwillingness to have rules work both way on her end, etc.; and granted, I heard more about her indiscretions than his), his question for me essentially came down to this:

How do you know whether you and your partner can work through sticking points, or whether perhaps you are simply incompatible and should find a partner with whom you agree more on relationship issues?

When sitting with him, I was just as stumped as him. I really didn't know what to say.

After talking with J and sitting with it a bit more, I think I have some coherent feedback.

How compatible do you feel with your partner in other ways? How worth it does it feel to work through challenges? For instance, J and I are compatible 95% of the time, so working through our sticking points is worth it to both of us. And, we consider each other to be life partners (another indication that we both feel a high compatibility with one another). 

How important is your relationship structure to you? Is it extremely important that you have the option of sleeping with other people or dating other people? Or, are extra-dyadic sex and romantic relationships just the icing on your cake- can you take it or leave it? Knowing this may help you figure out where you can easily compromise and where you can't. If a specific relationship structure is highly important to you, and your partner has a very different idea and different needs, then you may simply be incompatible.

He also mentioned that his somewhat-of-an-ex was more focused on extra-dyadic sex, while he was desirous of other romantic and emotional relationships via the dating experience (sex was not the focus for him, or as important). He wondered aloud to me, are these differences indicative that he and his partner are incompatible or could their desires coexist? I told him then, and I still think, that I certainly know people in long-term relationships in this very situation and I think it is quite possible to have them coexist. The important thing, I think, is for each partner to recognize that they simply have different desires and needs and to respect one another. I also told him that I think unique challenges arise from this situation if both people have a difficult time relating to one another because they don't understand each other's needs. I think it also presents a situation where insecurities and instances of feeling threatened are more likely to come up.

More than anything, it was very clear that he and his somewhat-of-an-ex don't talk. For one, he didn't even know if they were broken up or not, because they have broken up so many times he can never tell when they are together or not. He didn't know when she started sleeping with a past partner, because she wouldn't be clear about it, so he didn't even really know if she had explicitly broken a boundary of their previously monogamous relationship. They had different ideas of disclosure, but they hadn't figured that out together through talking (he wanted her to offer information about encounters and relationships and she thought that he should ask about anything he wanted to know; the result was that he felt like he was prying and she felt like he was suspicious of her). Talking is a positive thing; not talking creates problems and makes them fester. (Obvious, I know.)

Does anyone else have advice for my friend?

Threesomes & Moresomes

My next article for DA went live today: "The Secrets to Having a Good Threesome"

Here's an excerpt:

"Key factors to consider and questions to answer:

• Who is OK to invite for group sex (friends, strangers, etc.)?
• How will group sex impact the relationship among the people involved?
• Is it OK if it happens again?
• What are the sexual and emotional boundaries?
• Can you manage jealousy, competitiveness and possessiveness to the extent that a threesome/moresome will be a fun and positive experience?
• What are your safer sex practices for a group sex encounter?
• What is the goal of the group sex encounter (fun, experimentation, closeness, love, etc.)?"

Check it out! :)

My next one for them will be on how to find people for group sex. Hot!

Repost: Rules & Expectations

I saw this post recently published on Journals of a Polyamorous Triad: "Poly 101: Rules and Expectations." I found his exercise and discussion pretty interesting and useful, so I wanted to re-post his questionnaire here:

"10 or 9 Absolutely Agree
8 or 7 Strongly Agree
6 or 5 Agree
4 or 3 Strongly Disagree
2 or 1 Absolutely Disagree 

Ready? Okay, answer honestly:

1. My partners should know where I am at all times, and, when to expect me home.

2. I am accountable to all of my partners for all of my sexual and romantic activities. They have a right and vested interest to know who, what, where, when, and why.

3. It is reasonable that all of my partners know my sexual risk factors. I encourage them to inquire about and suggest limits on my sexual activities.

4. Should I ask, it is unacceptable any of my partners to lie - or otherwise conceal any facts or details - about a date or romantic encounter. The same goes for me.

5. My partners can - at any time - request that I do not engage in specific sexual activities, and I will do my best to honor it.

6. My partners can - at any time - request that I do not date specific people or others, and I will do my best to honor it.

7. My partners can - at any time - request that more energy be paid to their dynamic with me, and I will do my best to honor it.

8. I am an adult. I am accountable for every decision I make. I will not allow any excuse (example: being drunk, horny, in a scene, got carried away, in NRE, in romantic love, etc.) to detract from taking responsibility for my actions at all times.

9. To the greatest extent possible, all of my partners deserve a say in my calendaring and scheduling.

10. I have obligations (family, financial, parental, spousal) that may at times take precedence over my romantic entanglements, and I will act upon them accordingly."

I really liked what he had to say later on about your score:

"The lower the score the more you likely value autonomy and freedom; the more likely you view rules as instruments of control and not as reasonable mutual expectation; the more likely you'll refuse outside accountability for your actions (expecting your partners to deal with their own emotional responses rather than considering how you contribute to those responses); the more likely you're to view broad descriptions "Ethical" in the same context as "Acceptable" or "Right", which isn't accurate but helps to justify your actions; the more likely you're to shift blame for relationship problems away from you and onto the back of somebody else; the more likely you're to make unilateral decisions as not to be confronted or told no.
The higher the score the more you likely value setting reasonable expectations; the more likely you view rules as tools for negotiating what you want; the more likely you accept outside accountability for your actions and promises; the more likely you're to consider the feelings of your partners when making independent decisions; the more likely you're to view contextual nuances of broad descriptions like "Ethical" (ie: it may have been ethical to provide advance notice on your intention to engage in a threesome, but, advance notice alone doesn't make it "right" if a partner asked you politely not to participate and you refused citing your "ethical and transparent" conduct as a license to do whatever you please); the more likely you're to make more consensus-based decisions with your partners, understanding and accepting that you may be confronted or told no."

J and I discussed the questionnaire, and J pointed out that the concept is very similar to Kathy Labriola's intimacy-autonomy scale that she discusses in her book Love in Abundance. I think he is right; I doubt someone would score high on one scale and low on another. I do think they are distinct, though, in that Kathy's scale is about intimacy within a relationship, whereas this questionnaire is getting at your willingness to accept external control on your behavior. Both definitely get touch on aspects of intimacy, disclosure, communication, autonomy, freedom, and control, but I think they do so in subtly different ways.

Unsurprisingly, my score on this questionnaire is between 70 and 80, and I put myself between a 7 and a 8 on Kathy's scale. J thinks he is similar, scoring somewhere between a 60 and 70 on this questionnaire and puts himself between a 6 and a 7 on Kathy's scale. Yet another helpful tool for talking about your relationship and figuring out how to negotiate boundaries that feel satisfying and good for you :)

Swinging Cheaters

This is fascinating to both J and I:

We have met (online and in-person) about four couples in the past couple of years, who are all cheating on their married spouses and then going out and swinging with the person they are having an affair with. Does that make sense? I don't know how to write it more simply.

This is fascinating to me because I think in a way it speaks to how common cheating is, and how expected it has become in our society. With the rates of cheating so high, I would be really surprised to meet someone in a long-term monogamous relationship who honestly hadn't thought about cheating themselves or suspected their partner of cheating.

If cheating is so common, then the taboo and societal stigma for cheating is probably much less severe than it once was. And if you are less afraid of being stigmatized once found out, you are probably more likely to take risks with your affair.

And I think going online, emailing open couples, and sending photos of yourself and your secret lover is pretty risky. What if you happen to email people that you know through work or church or neighbors or friends of friends?

Also, cheating itself (statistically at the population level) is more risky in terms of contracting STIs (people who lie about their nonmonogamous activities are less likely to practice safer sex with their other partners, than are people in open relationships who delineate clear safer sex practices). And then to add potentially more risk to your married relationship and spouse by adding in more partners? (Unless of course the cheating pair operate together as "open" and adhere to many open relationship principles and ideas, which includes safer sex practices.)

Which is also an interesting thought: a cheating pair operating as "open" together. I really have a hard time imagining the integration (and lack thereof) for someone who is having an affair with someone (and thus lying to their married partner about their sexual, romantic, and physical activities with other people) and then participating in the open community, which espouses honesty, integrity, transparency, and communication. How must you resolve those internal conflicts?

And this brings to my last point. What are my ethics in this situation? My gut reaction, right now, is to assume that I am not going to become sexually or romantically involved with a "swinging cheater couple." This is not because of an attitude that I'm don't want to "encourage" their behavior, but more because I want to be involved with truly open couples. As much as I find couples we have met who do this (swing with their secret lover) fascinating, I think the couples I have met who have gone the challenging and rewarding route of being honest, transparent, and truly open are far more interesting. I think exceptions are always present in life, and I am sure there could be a situation where I think to myself "This makes sense because x, y, and z." As a general rule of thumb, though, I think if I want to surround myself with intentional, honest, and transparent people, I would do best to not get involved with those who don't live that way. I think it's complicated, and it's obviously related to my previous post on holding other people's boundaries. My thinking on this topic is, obviously, not quite done.

Wonderful Women

I had the great fortune of participating in a film discussion and screening of Bodysex. It was a really empowering to see women in the film engaging in a body positive and sex positive space, and supporting each other in loving their bodies. The clips we watched of the women admiring one another's vulvas took my by surprise: women oohed and awed over each other's, complimenting the different shapes and sizes. I loved it. And, the masturbation/self pleasure circle was pretty hot, and awesome. It was quite something to watch seven women pleasure themselves. Also, I found it wonderful and beautiful to see such different body shapes and sizes (naked). Old, young, small, large, and in between. It was a really empowering film for me to see parts of, especially in how it relates to my own body image and sexuality. I am excited about the potential of participating in a similar women's self-pleasure group (see Barbara Wynne's website to get in touch with her if you are similarly interested).

Then, a couple days later, I was so grateful to be part of the first session of an open women's group. These women are all so special and important to me, and each relationship is unique. I wouldn't give up any of these friendships for anything. Again, I found myself in such an empowering space, listening to these wonderful women talk about their experiences, their challenges and triumphs. We talked about our various relationships structures, our sexual orientations and identities, how we prefer to communicate with our partners, what some of our boundaries are, whether we have come out to our families, and what it's like to be open and to also be raising kids. We talked about jealousy (obviously) and cheating/boundary violations. One of the most lovely things to me about the space was not the similarities among us (although there were some that took me by surprise- who knew how many of us lived with family?), but the diversity of opinion and experience. From how we define "open relationship," "nonmonogamy," "polyamory" to how we conceive of sex (is it "play," about physical connection, about emotional connection?) to what we want out of our open relationships, we all had different ideas and attitudes. Again, I was amazed at the intricacies inherent in this community and felt at home feeling safe and supported despite feeling different. We supported each other, gave each other hugs, let each other cry, and made each other laugh. I feel so blessed to have so many lovely friends, and to have been part of space where we could all come together.

Holding Others' Boundaries

I've thought about this idea for a while now, and still have not reached a solid conclusion on it. 

What is my responsibility for other people's boundaries?

I can ultimately only be responsible for myself and can ultimately only control myself and my behavior.

And like J and I have talked about before, doesn't it in some way take away another person's autonomy if I say, "Oh sorry I can't do that with you because I know your partner would be upset" ? Isn't that person responsible for their choices and their own relationship agreements and boundaries?

J and I also have discussed the fact that we will negotiate our relationship boundaries and agreements, and that we don't expect another/secondary partner to hold them for us; we are responsible to our primary relationship and any boundaries in place. J wouldn't want, for example, for me to negotiate a boundary that he has with one of his secondary partners. He and I would negotiate whatever boundary, and then he would be responsible for communicating that boundary to his secondary partner. If the boundary was ever broken, I don't think I would be upset with the secondary partner nearly as much as I would be with J. I think I would feel a little hurt by the secondary partner's involvement in breaking a boundary that J and I agreed to, but ultimately, I would feel upset with J and need to rebuild trust and communication with him.

Then again, I don't want to be impacted negatively in the long run. It's possible for instance, for my partner's partner to veto me as a secondary partner for being part of an agreement violations. This is an incentive to knowing what a partner's relationship boundaries are.

Also, sometimes another partner's boundary violation speaks to their own ethics and ability to be an individual of honesty and integrity. Which then impacts my own interest in being romantically involved with them.

It also feels more complicated to me when it comes to emotions versus physical acts. If someone says, making out and oral sex is okay but vaginal intercourse is not, that is pretty cut and dry, and pretty easy to define those boundaries clearly. If someone says, I don't want you to love another person or for another person to express love to you, then what do you do?

So I have yet to reach any kind of firm rule on this. It feels like a grey area to me, and one that is sussed out delicately depending on the situation and context.

Disclosure Needs

I have been thinking about my own disclosure needs off and on for quite a while now. When J and I first started having separate romantic/sexual relationships, I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know about all communication that happened- who, when, how, what, etc. I wanted to know all about the encounter itself- what was said, who said it, what happened next and what happened next, what sex positions, etc, etc. I wanted day-by-day, moment-by-moment blow-by-blows of how the relationships was deepening emotionally: how are you feeling about her? How do you feel now? And now? And now??

Okay, let's be honest: I still like to know quite a lot. But I feel like my intensity has gone down quite a bit. I don't feel as frantic or anxious asking questions, as I usually have a pretty good idea of what to expect. Staying in the loop with what J's relationships look like is really helpful to me in my own personal growth work, and also really helpful in staying connected to J. I get to know, from another perspective (through the lens of this other relationship), what J wants, needs, desires, and how those things are getting met, overall, in his life.

So, I still like to know quite a lot. But I feel like my need for the details has gone down. 

I have also been wondering about my own emotional response to hearing about J's relationships and dates and other interactions with partners. Would I feel more relaxed and at peace if I didn't know as much as I ask for? I tried, for instance, to not ask as much after a recent encounter, and I found myself asking anyway as the day went one. It was harder to not know, but it was positive to experiment with the timeline of disclosure.

I think the amount of disclosure is also somewhat dependent on the context: do I know the other person well or not? Is the relationship well-defined or is it in flux (or just starting)? Have similar dates happened before? I have noticed that I ask for a lot of disclosure at the beginning of a new relationship when it still feels very "unknown" and as time goes on, I ask for less.

I also wonder about the boundaries of disclosure. For example, J is, for the most part, happy to share any details that would fill me in, help me feel reconnected to him, and help me feel less anxious. From reading forums and articles online, it is clear to me that not all poly people would be as accommodating. Different people need different degrees of privacy and different people need different degrees of disclosure. I think it takes pretty good communication around needs to reach a place of peace around privacy versus disclosure. I am thankful, that so far, J and I haven't had to struggle quite as much around this issue. (Which is not to say that we haven't struggled around it, because we have, haha)

Bouncing around online, I came across this post from a poly person (I'm not hyperlinking it for anonymity reasons), and it resonated with me and my own journey of discovering what level of disclosure is best for me. I thought I would share the most salient parts here; I bolded my favorite parts:

"I completely empathise with being unsure of what to ask, what to know. In the early days, it helped me to know everything. These days, I don't want to know anything at all. What you choose is definitely down to you.

I have noticed one thing. When something has just happened, like a date, knowing feels like a truck has hit me. But, a few weeks or months later, knowing something isn't as bad.

I don't believe in 'don't ask don't tell' - the option of an open book is good, in my opinion. But what you have to ask yourself is: "how does my mind work?" If you hear those words "yes, we had sex", are you going to imagine all kinds of things? Often, you hear something unexpected. He could say "we didn't go all the way". What are you going to imagine then? ...
 
Poly was something that I believed in, but was quite painful for me, when I knew details. Now that I don't ask, it's easier. I know my GF is dating; I know who she's dating; I know when. I know if she meets someone new, if she's getting to know them. The rest is up to her. If it doesn't effect me, I needn't be bothered. And you know.... knowing doesn't stop anything bad from happening. I have felt neglected or insecure in my relationship at times, even when I've known what's going on. But reminding myself that it's her body, her heart, her mind... being more autonomous... has truly helped me."

Space

"Let there be spaces in your togetherness.

And let the winds of heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls."

~from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet   

J and I began a conversation a couple weeks ago that has continued regarding our individual needs for space- how to share space, how to utilize, and how it fits within the context of our open relationship.

In both the Osho book I just finished (Love, Freedom, Aloneness) and in Esther Perel's Mating in Captivity, both authors emphasize the idea of letting separateness create desire for intimacy. Separateness and togetherness are seen as a force like a pendulum; both are good, and both are required for a relationship to develop healthfully.

We have friends who intentionally do not live together as a means to retain independence and autonomy from one another, while also keeping spice alive in their relationship. We have another friend whose grandma was a marriage and family therapist her whole life and always advocated for couples having separate bedrooms. We know others who are extremely comfortable with having lots of space to themselves- physical (in terms of living space) and geographic.

This brings up for me Kathy Labriola's autonomy and intimacy scale (from her book Love in Abundance). If you don't remember, the idea is that the scale ranges from 1-10, with those needing absolute autonomy identifying as a 1 and those needing total intimacy with a partner as a 10. Labriola maintains that people who identify as a 1 or 2 probably don't have primary partners, because they need so much independence that a primary relationship probably will not manifest. In addition, someone who identifies as a 9 or 10 probably does not have a primary partner because the partner will probably end up feeling smothered. She says that relationships are more sustainable when the two people involved are similar in number identification. I tend to identify as a 7 or 7.5 (if I can do half numbers!). J tends to identify as a 6 or 7. So we are pretty closely matched, but our differences definitely come out sometimes.

So, J and I have been talking about our future living situation. Right now, we are in a fairly small (at times feeling very cramped) apartment with one bed. We have both craved our own personal space at times. For J, an ideal future living space would include double master suites with identical comforts (same sized beds with same cozy comforters and sheets and pillows, TVs in both rooms, etc so that we both feel the spaces are equally inviting and comfortable) so that we could each claim a suite as our own. We could each decorate our room how we want, and feel like we had our own space to retreat into. For me, this sounds lovely during times when I am upset or just in funky mood and crave alone time. It also sounds like it would provide added spice to some of our shared sexual fantasies. It also would provide me a space to deepen any future relationship with a woman. For J, the purpose has significant symbolic value. He does not want our space to reflect control, and having his own space would signify that he controls his own romantic and sexual life. It would be important to him at some point to be able to have secondary partners or casual sexual partners over to spend the night.

Starting this conversation was difficult for me, because it brought up fears of our relationship turning into one like housemates might have. I want to still be able to sleep next to J and wake up next to him and feel intimacy in that way (I know that he enjoys that aspect too, but it is not as necessary for him- remember the intimacy-autonomy scale). But after having a more calm conversation about it and explaining those sentiments, we have seemed to reach some various ideas on how to maintain the elements of our shared living relationship that we both enjoy. One idea was to have a dedicated night a week where we do not sleep together so that it becomes more normalized, and then switching off whose bedroom we slept in the other nights. I explained that we have never practiced not sleeping together except when I have been upset, and so it feels pretty important to not sleep together when things feel happy and calm. It was also important for J to add that on nights when we might normally sleep together, for it still to feel comfortable and acceptable to ask for a night alone without me feeling upset about the request. In addition, it felt important to brainstorm alternative living situations, in the event that double master suites are not an option. One might be an apartment or house with two bedrooms of roughly the same size.

(It also feels important for me to say that this was a long conversation yesterday, and I have not been getting a lot of sleep and am a little sick, so I have probably forgotten some of the key things we talked about. If so, I will be sure to write an updated post!)

Overall, I feel on the same page with J about these ideas, and I am excited to see how we will craft our future living spaces to better reflect our individual needs and desires as a couple.

Family Concerns

Going home for the holidays inevitably means that J and I will find similarity and difference with each of our families. But it seems even more happened this past week/weekend.

Last week, J and I visited with two of J's friends. One, a long-time friend (woman), and the other an ex-girlfriend-now-friend. J's mom seriously does not understand how this is okay with me. The truth is, I enjoy both of these people's company a ton, and love socializing with both. It so happened that the night that J and I saw his ex-girlfriend he and I later had a heated conversation about something totally unrelated and I ended up crying myself to sleep. We are assuming that J's mom heard me crying, and linked the two situations. She sent J an email early the next morning explaining in extremely vague terms that she was upset, and hadn't been excited about our wedding since we started planning it. She did not say why she was upset, did not say what she needed, etc. It was a prime example of communication lacking meta-communication and specifics. J told her that same day that she could come talk to both of us, but she never did. 

The email colored our whole time at home with J's family, because J and I talked a ton about the possibility of our conversation with her evolving into a "coming out" conversation. In thinking about coming out to J's parents, it became quite apparent that we would have to approach the topic as a more "closed" idea on our end; that is, that we would not be looking for input or advice. However, we would definitely have to approach in a more conversational way, and not like a confrontation (despite having some intuition that it would likely devolve into one). The topic would need to be gentle and compassionate. We would need to feel open to answering questions and providing explanation, but also recognize our capacity for hearing negative comments.

We are both so thankful for the relationship that we do have with J's brother and sister-in-law. They know about everything, and can talk to us in a very honest and real way about all of this. Thank goodness they were also home and were able to listen to us, relate to us, and provide feedback on the situation. It was a good reminder that it is very possible to have positive and deep relationships with family members.

In one of the conversations J and I had, we talked a lot about how much of what we appreciate about our open relationship are "smaller" things, that perhaps some (or many) monogamous couples have as part of their relationship: having opposite sex friends, having emotional intimacy with friends, the ability to flirt as part of a natural expression of relating to others. It is quite clear from the email J received that having emotional intimacy with opposite-sex friends is not okay in J's parents monogamous relationship, let alone flirting. I am deeply grateful for these "smaller" aspects that we can enjoy; they are very important to both of us. And it actually provides me comfort, in knowing that those things were not okay when we were monogamous. It is just a slow process to become accustomed to things and unlearn old and re-learn new ways of relating.

J's mom's un-excitement about our wedding, we are fairly sure, is related to the fact that neither of us wants kids. It seems that J's mom sees this as meaning that J and I are not with the right people; i.e., if we were with the "right" person, we would want kids. So because we don't, we clearly aren't in the "right" relationship, and therefore, a wedding is stupid. How could she be excited for it if she sees our relationship as doomed?

I now have this to let go of. Letting go of having J's mom as a true source of emotional support for our relationship, even one that she perceives to be monogamous. Letting go of having a more authentic and deep relationship with J's parents. Letting go of having my true self seen by family members. Letting go, letting go, letting go. Make peace, make peace, make peace.