Portrait Of An Open Marriage

We communicate in ways I never dreamed of, staying up late at night talking about the nature of monogamy, of sexuality, of marriage, and of life in general. I suppose open marriage works for us for precisely that reason: because we talk about it, because it has opened us to one another. The learning curve certainly has been steep. We have absolutely, positively no models for what we’re doing. We’re really just the average couple next door. Really. We’ve just found that "owning" each other sexually doesn’t help our marriage.

It only hurts it.

It is amazing, though, how much trouble people have with open marriage. One person told me how sad he is that I need "conquests" and need others to find me sexually attractive to be satisfied, and that he hopes that one day I'll find enough success elsewhere to overcome that. Another person told me she thinks I'm a lesbian who doesn't want to give up the creature comforts my marriage provides. Still another said she’s scared for me and my relationship if I need such "fireworks." But each of these statements said more about the speaker than about me.

The truth is I'm just like everyone else. I'm just trying to figure out all of this life stuff. It's hard. There's this one plan we're all supposed to follow, this heterosexual, monogamous, child-rearing, one-size-fits-all model that we're all supposed to goose-step into line with. But I can't. In fact, I have a responsibility not to. I am responsible for my own orgasm—and my own happiness. And I don't need other people to like me or to approve, and I don’t need others to live in the same way I do. I just need to do what I need to do, without hurting myself or others. For right now, at least, that means having sexual relationships outside of my marriage.

My husband hasn't pursued anyone since my friend. He says he's too shy to pick up girls, and, really, he doesn't feel the need. I can sometimes tell that the fact that I do hurts him. "Intellectually," he explains, "I totally get it. But sometimes, emotionally, it's hard."

"I know," I tell him. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No," he says. "I'm not that guy. But you have to bear with me. I'm still trying to figure all of this out."