There are many kinds of sexual situations people can get into – everything from committed monogamous relationships to a one-night stand. But friends with benefits (FWB) situations are often still seen as controversial, perhaps because of the potential for heartbreak.
Typically, FWB arrangements involve two people engaging in casual sexual activities without the expectations and constraints often associated with romantic partnerships. Unlike a fling or a hook up there is often an understanding that the situation is indefinite and that the friendship may resume or continue even if the physical relationship ends.
Different types of relationships can serve different purposes. Psychological research into FWB arrangements has shown they can be more complicated than media portrayals give them credit for. Unlike a fling or a hook up, FWB arrangements, often involve understanding that the situation is indefinite and that the friendship may resume even if the physical relationship ends.
It’s not for everyone. Recognising your relationship preference is key to understanding whether FWB can work for you or not. If you’re trying to decide whether it’s for you, take some time to think about how you approach commitment. Consider, for example, whether you have a strong inclination towards exclusive relationships.
Research suggests that some people lean towards a committed monogamous relationship while others are comfortable with arrangements across the spectrum of casual and noncommittal arrangement types.
FWB relationships tend to fall into three camps: best friends, sex only and network opportunities. Sex-only relations for example, focus on the physical aspect, while the motivation for network opportunity relationships revolves around opportunity and access to each other’s social circles. Best friends relationships often enjoy both a physical and platonic connection.
The benefits
Research shows many people have a positive experience: it doesn’t always end in disaster.
One of the main perks is that FWB relationships give people sexual freedom, without the constraints of a monogamous romantic partnership. It is like having a trusted partner to experiment with and to enjoy regular consensual sex, but with greater emotional independence.
FWB setups give partners the space and time to explore different relationship styles, as people go through different stages in their lives. For example, one person may be going through a phase where they want more than a one-night stand but are not quite ready for a long-term commitment.
FWB relationships may in fact empower younger women to get their sexual needs met in a way that is similar to men’s ability to do so through casual one-time encounters. Some women report they are more likely to have their sexual needs met in a FWB situation than a hook up.
For instance, in one study of US university students, young women said FWB was a situation where they were encouraged to express their sexuality and were not “held back” by society’s double standards such as slut shaming. So it can be an important part of people’s sexual and relational development that allows them to explore different parts of themselves.
The downsides
Jumping into a FWB is not without its risks. You could end up losing the friendship. Perhaps one person hopes for more than a casual liaison, while the other person wants to keep things simple and physical. The person who wants a deeper relationship may avoid rocking the boat out of fear the arrangement will end if they tell the truth. Those unequal feelings can end up causing heartache.
It is also worth mentioning that some people may deliberately give their FWB the idea it could lead to commitment so that they can get intimacy as they want. Here are some signs your FWB partner has malicious intentions:
coercing you into in sexual acts you’ve expressed reluctance to participate in
refusing to practice safe sex
gaslighting (manipulating you into questioning your own sanity or powers of reasoning)
unwillingness to negotiate emotional boundaries.
Of course, some cultures reject the idea of non-monogamous relationships. As long as unorthodox relationships such as FWB lack universal recognition, they are vulnerable to stigma and judgement.
What to keep in mind
As you spend more time in a FWB relationship, feelings can sneak in when you least expect it, which can hit one person harder than the other. This is one of the most challenging complications of this type of relationship. Some people might avoid these kind of conversations because they might fear it sounds like they’re taking the relationship more seriously than the other. Yet, it is important to know where you stand to avoid psychological distress, uncertainty and esteem issues.
Talking straight can help avoid confusion.
There is no no rulebook for how to steer FWBs. But be upfront about your feelings and boundaries and manage expectations. This can help minimise misunderstandings. If you discover you both want different things out of the situation, reassess whether it’s time to find a more compatible partnership somewhere else.
Also remember to practice safe sex. Studies show that when people trust their partner, they are less likely to use condoms. Unprotected sex puts all parties at risk for STIs and unwanted pregnancies.
Navigating FWB setups can be tricky. From a sex therapist’s point of view, there is no one-size-fits-all solution when it comes to relationships. This arrangement should work as long as you both want the same things.
Threesomes can be a bit of a juggling act. I’m thinking: ‘Is our guest at ease? Who are they focusing on? Who am I focusing on?’
Felix and I had sex the first afternoon we met, and I remember that he made a huge amount of noise. I have an office on the floor above my apartment and the walls are very thin. I have a vivid memory of being right in the middle of a particularly intimate moment and actually hearing the telephone ringing upstairs through all the racket Felix was making. It suddenly became obvious that if I could hear that telephone, everyone in the office could hear us. I did try to shush Felix a bit, but I found his lack of inhibition refreshing.
We had met on Grindr, and some of the other men I had slept with via the app seemed uneasy with their homosexuality. I live in Spain, and while it’s not exactly dangerous to be gay, life still revolves around the church. I’ve met men who wanted to keep the lights off during sex, or who kept their shirts on, or who begged me to treat them like dirt. Felix was utterly unlike that: he was sunny and playful. He wanted us to have lunch, not just say hello and then take our trousers off.
Felix was sunny and playful. He wanted us to have lunch, not just say hello and then immediately take our trousers off
I am the top with Felix, meaning I am the active partner, whereas Felix is the bottom. But in reality, Felix is much more versatile – he’s just forced to stick to a passive role with me because I can’t physically cope with being the bottom. It’s an anatomical thing. Mentally I’d love to, but physically it simply doesn’t work. Felix and I agree that it’s unfair that I can’t satisfy him in that way, so we decided to open up our relationship. We’ve been together for two years, but every few weeks we will each go out individually and sleep with another man. We also like to meet men together and have threesomes.
Threesomes are sexy, but they take a surprising amount of organisation. We chat to contenders online, and Felix does most of the texting because he is a lot better at flirting than I am. The threesome itself can be a bit of a juggling act. I’ll be thinking: “Is our guest at ease? Who are they focusing on? Who am I focusing on?” It’s like tapping your head and rubbbing your tummy at the same time. I think we’re getting better at them, though. I suppose threesomes, like twosomes, are a learning curve.
Felix, 28
After the initial excitement has worn off with another man, I usually end up missing Lorenzo
My sexual energy is extremely high, and occasionally a little too much for Lorenzo. If we’re in the kitchen, for example, I’ll want to be right behind him at the sink, hugging and touching and grabbing his bum. I don’t think he likes it. He shows his love in other ways, through acts of care and by how attentively he listens. He is less sexual than me, and that is partly why we have decided to sleep with other people.
We are always updating the terms of our arrangement, and part of the deal is that we debrief one another about every man we have sex with. I will show him pictures of the men I have been home with, particularly the cute ones, and talk through their best moves. Lorenzo and I have always been truthful, even about our sexual compatibility. Lorenzo is a top, whereas I like to switch roles. Because he couldn’t give me everything I needed, early on he decided that wasn’t fair on me, so he insisted that we should both be free.
We rarely agree on who’s hot and who’s not. I fancy young-looking, curly haired men. Twinks, really. That’s not his type
Occasionally I will sleep with a particularly attractive guy and then arrange a date to bring him home for a threesome. The trouble is, we rarely agree on who is hot and who is not. Lorenzo has shown me men he liked in the past and I have been like: “Ew.” I fancy young-looking, curly haired men. That’s not his type, but we take it in turns to compromise.
We have strict rules about falling in love. We aren’t allowed to develop feelings for other people. That’s never been a problem for me – after the initial excitement has worn off with another man, I usually end up missing Lorenzo. I’ll be put off by the way this strange man kisses or the way his tongue feels in my mouth. I’ll smell his trashy aftershave and it will make me think of the very specific, fresh scent of Lorenzo’s skin. Every time I sleep with another man, I end up loving Lorenzo a little more.
For years, studies have shown that Americans are having less sex, whether they’re teens or in midlife. While researchers posit several different reasons for that—the lasting social effects of a pandemic that encouraged isolation, and more reliance on our devices over human connection, to name just two—I’d wager to say that for plenty of people in monogamous relationships, the idea of sex may just feel unexciting or uninspiring. As a modern love therapist, one of the most common requests I get from people in long-term monogamous relationships is for support in learning how to spice up their relationship, and specifically, their sex lives within it.
While people who are interested in exploring non-monogamy may be able to rev up their sex lives through the novelty of additional partners, those in a monogamous relationship (who aren’t interested in opening it up) may find that the extreme familiarity they have with their partner can become a breeding ground for boring sex. And boring sex likely isn’t pleasurable or satisfying sex, either—which can just make the people involved less likely to seek it out in the first place.
Desire dies at the hands of routine and familiarity because, by nature, it thrives off the unknown.
Desire dies at the hands of routine and familiarity because, by nature, it thrives off the unknown. In order to feel desire, defined as hunger and craving, you have to want something you don’t currently have. And yet, to build an intimate and sustainable relationship, you need to have a person in your life (and in your bed) about whom you know a great deal.
Still, it’s certainly possible to infuse a long-term monogamous relationship with some excitement if you avoid falling into the trap of monotony. Below, find seven easy tactics for how to spice up your relationship and crank the volume on your sex life, even if it’s the same partner every time.
How to spice up your relationship and take the monotony out of monogamy
1. Approach everyday interactions with your partner more mindfully
Research shows that we listen to those we love the least closely because we believe we can predict what they are going to say. When we get used to something or someone, we tend to tune out, rather than tune in. Take, for example, brushing your teeth; do you really pay attention while you’re doing it?
In much the same way, you might realize that you tend to ask your partner how their day was without really listening to the answer, or automatically assume the same sex position or choose to have sex after dinner or with the lights out every time you have it. While there is nothing wrong with any of these practices, in theory, they all present opportunities to numb out rather than really feel—which is necessary to experiencing pleasure.
Choosing to tune into these interactions with a partner rather than allowing them to become passive programming can help you to feel more present and thus more satisfied in your relationship (and in bed).
2. Consider how your sexual desires have evolved since you started dating your partner
In all relationships, we develop patterns of interactions or ways of being together that become familiar. We often forget that when we commit to a person, we aren’t committing to being the same with that person forever. As our circumstances change—we age, have new experiences, grow, experience loss—our needs change, too.
The fact that we transform is not the problem; it’s that many times, we don’t reorient ourselves to our new needs, and therefore don’t alert our partner of these changing needs, either. What you liked when you first met your partner may be very different now, and yet you might still be relying on old patterns of interaction that no longer fit.
Human sexuality expert and sex educator Emily Nagoski, PhD, recommends asking yourself: “What is it that I want when I want sex?” and “What is it that I like when I like sex?” I recommend adding in questions like: “What prevents me from feeling good in my body?” and “What enables me to feel good in my body?” Then, ask your partner the same questions.
It’s important to normalize that desires shift over time, just like our appetites for food.
Don’t be afraid to get detailed in your investigation. It’s important to normalize that desires shift over time, just like our appetites for food, and that consistent inquiry into what you and your partner like will be necessary throughout your relationship to keep sex, well, sexy.
3. Get to know your non-sexual pleasures
If you find that you struggle to answer the questions about sexual desire above, it may be because pleasure isn’t something you feel comfortable owning or experiencing—and probably for very good reason. Your body might not have always felt safe in scenarios where pleasure was involved, or you may have been taught to prioritize what others want from you versus what you want. After all, we live in a world where many bodies are under attack and in a culture that has long privileged men’s pleasure over women’s (hello, orgasm gap).
All of the above could mean you need some personal space to heal your relationship to pleasure. From an emotional perspective, when we are unable to feel pleasure, it’s not because we can’t access it; it’s because our bodies are protecting us from feeling anything at all so as to shield us from pain.
4. Create a transitional pre-sex practice for when the day’s obligations are done
One of the common complaints I hear is that people aren’t “in the mood” or are “too exhausted” at the end of the day for sex and deep connection. I do not doubt the truth of these statements; there are so many demands on our time and energy at this cultural moment.
But what may also be contributing to these feelings is the fact that, when we’re overwhelmed, the part of our brain that can connect is not readily available to us. If we attempt to go from a busy workday, an evening workout, or preparing dinner to pressing “go” on sexual connection, we are setting unrealistic expectations for ourselves.
Instead, create a transitional practice that enables your body to enter a window where connection feels possible. If you typically run anxious, ask yourself, “What sounds, sights, tastes, textures, and/or scents soothe me?” and see how you can incorporate one or more of these sensory items into a pre-sex ritual. Or, if you tend to feel low on energy or fatigued when the time for sex rolls around, do the same thing for the sensations or sensory items that typically energize you.
Integrating, for example, a few songs, movements, or fragrances that bring you back home to your body might give you just what you need to be able to shift into a connection space with your partner and make sex feel more exciting.
5. Get curious about your sex life
When we experience dissatisfaction in our sex life, we typically create a problem-focused narrative. It might sound something like, “My partner is lazy,” or “We aren’t compatible anymore.” The issue with this type of story is that it prevents further investigation. And it’s often just a strategy for avoiding feeling hurt, jealousy, or anger while steering clear of what’s really happening below the surface.
Instead, get curious about what’s happening or what’s changed in the dynamic with your partner. For example, instead of saying, “My partner doesn’t have energy for sex,” ask yourself, “What might be taking up all his energy?” Or, instead of saying, “I just don’t find sex pleasurable with my partner anymore,” ask yourself, “What has shifted for me when it comes to sex, and what may have shifted for her?” These open-ended questions offer up new pathways for connection, rather than shutting them down.
6. Discuss the sensitive or tough stuff
Sometimes, a boring or unsexy sex life is actually covering up disconnection in a relationship, which never feels good. Because our brains like to focus on what is familiar and predictable, many of us avoid asking questions about things that we fear, or to which the answers could vary widely. But when we aren’t talking about what’s really coming up for us, silence or physical disengagement accrues around these tough topics and creates thick layers of distance between us. And sex tends to fall away (or become less satisfying) in the resulting chasm.
When we aren’t talking about what’s really coming up for us, silence or physical disengagement accrues around these tough topics and creates thick layers of distance between us.
Ask yourself: What are you wondering about your partner, but are afraid to know the answer to? Some ideas are: “What sexual fantasies do you have that exist outside of us, and how would you want to share them with me?”, “What do you wish were different about our relationship?”, “What do you feel insecure about in our relationship?”, “What makes it hard for you to connect with me?”, and “What ideas do you have about bringing more fire into our connection?” Anything that invites newness into a relationship has the potential to enliven it.
7. Spend time doing fun things outside of your relationship
This sounds counterintuitive, but in actuality, finding joy outside of a relationship can help you thrive within the relationship. Sometimes, we depend too heavily on our partners to meet our every need, and this puts too much weight on the relationship for it to thrive. The route to closeness might actually be differentiation and spending more time on your own.
How are you nurturing your own garden? What is your sexual relationship with yourself like? Do you still do things that bring you playfulness and joy that have nothing to do with your partner? Accessing the sensual, sexual, and curious parts of you that you may have left behind when you coupled up won’t just leave you feeling more fulfilled; it could also help you do your part in reigniting a spark between you and your partner.
When you hear the words “vanilla sex,” what do you think? What kinds of adjectives come to mind? If you’re like many people, you might have a generalized or inaccurate perception of what vanilla looks like: Some people assume it’s uninteresting, boring, or only practiced by people of certain age groups, but that’s far from the truth. No matter what social media or TV shows have taught you about vanilla sex, the term actually has a straightforward, useful meaning—and no, it’s not meant to shame people who aren’t particularly kinky.
The word “vanilla” is used in the kink community as a way to distinguish stereotypical sex from kinky, fetishistic, or BDSM environments, says Sarah Melancon, PhD, a sociologist, sexologist, and sexuality and relationships expert for SexToyCollective.com. Having this term is important because it helps differentiate what sex looks like to different people, she explains.
“People [who practice vanilla sex] don’t really call it vanilla sex, they’re calling it sex. They don’t need to designate it, because it’s just what sex is to them,” says Melancon. And, BTW, there’s nothing wrong with that. There are even a few benefits to vanilla sex, but more on that in a moment.
Ahead, experts share insight on what it really means to be vanilla, its benefits, and common misconceptions about this kind of sex.
Meet the Experts:
Sarah Melancon, PhD, is a sociologist, sexologist, and sexuality and relationships expert for SexToyCollective.com.
The definition of vanilla sex can be subjective, but broadly speaking, it’s anything that falls under the umbrella of “normative” sex. “Some people define it as just PIV [penis-in-vagina] intercourse, but most people would expand that to include oral sex as well,” says Gigi Engle, a sex and intimacy expert for 3Fun. “It’s your standard sex, essentially.”
Why “vanilla,” though? ” Etymologists have struggled with its origin, but despite the wrangling, most sex historians agree that the kink world circa 1970s gets the credit for using ‘vanilla’ to refer to conventional sex,” says Gloria Brame, PhD, a sex therapist, board-certified sexologist, and author of Different Loving Too: Real People, Real Lives, Real BDSM.
In the ’70s, flavors like vanilla were used because it was an easy way of explaining how everyone likes different things—not just in the bedroom, but in life. Using a food with many variations, such as ice cream, was easier for people to understand. “By the 1980s,” adds Brame, “the term took hold throughout the rapidly-growing BDSM communities and finally reached mainstream usage.” (The more you know!)
These days, “vanilla” can also refer to what someone may or may not like in the bedroom. “[It’s] sex that isn’t kinky. So if you say you have vanilla sex, what you’re saying is ‘I’m not into kink,’ and there’s nothing wrong with that,” says Engle.
What are some misconceptions about vanilla sex?
Unfortunately, there’s a lot of unnecessary judgement surrounding the idea of vanilla sex, which can result in shame. “People will be embarrassed that they’re vanilla or they’ll say it as if it’s a bad thing,” says Engle. “But vanilla is a delicious flavor! It’s fine if that’s what you want to be.”
Below are some of the most common misconceptions, debunked.
It’s boring. Can sex be boring? Absolutely, but the fact that it’s vanilla isn’t what makes it that way. “Any sex that you have repeatedly can become boring. As humans, we crave novelty… changing up the routine is helpful for that,” says Engle. In short, you don’t have to engage in wild, risky, or explosive sex to have a great sex life. You can do something as simple as trying out a new position, bringing in a toy, or even switching up where you have sex.
It’s less evolved. Some people feel like vanilla sex is barely scraping the surface of any kind of sex at all. This idea can also stem from the judgment of others, even if the person having vanilla sex is satisfied. “For some people, it is the end point. For others, [vanilla sex] is part of an evolutionary process,” says Melancon. But whether or not vanilla is one of your go-to flavors, “it’s no less evolved than anything else,” she adds.
It’s not for queer people. Because of stereotypes around queer sex and the misconception that vanilla sex is just PIV intercourse, many people assume that queer couples don’t engage in vanilla sex. But because vanilla sex is just non-kinky, it’s possible to be queer and prefer vanilla sex, says Engle. “A lot of queer people have basic, queer sex, and it might not even be inclusive of sex toys,” she explains.
It’s not pleasurable. Because a lot of people define vanilla sex as straightforward PIV intercourse, there’s a misconception that, within cis-heterosexual dynamics, vanilla sex is less pleasurable for women. But in fact, women are more likely to orgasm during sex when they receive oral, try new sex positions, and engage in deep kissing, according to a 2017 study from Archives of Sexual Behavior—all of which can be incorporated into vanilla sex (and often are).On the flip side, there’s also a widespread idea that men don’t find vanilla sex enjoyable since it might not live up to the performative standards set in porn. This isn’t true: In fact, a lot of the sex highlighted in porn could still be considered vanilla, notes Engle. “Vanilla sex doesn’t always mean passionate and loving. It can still be rough sex and be considered vanilla,” she says.
Ultimately, people of all genders can enjoy and get off from vanilla sex. “Good sex is subjective,” Engle says. “It really depends on the people who are having it and the things they like to do.”
What are the benefits of vanilla sex?
No matter what kind of sex you’re having, the most important thing is that it’s enjoyable. But, if you haven’t had a lot of vanilla sex, there are some possible benefits to giving it a try.
Just the simplicity of engaging in vanilla sex can be an approach to mindfulness in the bedroom, Melancon says. “It’s just you enjoying your ability to feel sexual sensations and enjoying an experience. So I think it can be really intimate,” she adds. “It can help us be more present and feel a different level of connection.”
It may allow people to engage their senses more, says Melancon. For example, you may be able to zone in on the sound of your partner breathing, the scent of their body, or the taste of their mouth.
If you prefer to engage in kinkier sex (which, no shame!), having some vanilla experiences can still help your sex life. “Couples who are very into kink sometimes don’t have time for everything, so it can be beneficial to keep your sexual relationship alive to also have vanilla sex involved,” says Engle. This may also be the case for those with kids or busy lifestyles.
What if my partner and I aren’t on the same page about vanilla sex?
So, one of you prefers vanilla sex and the other is kinkier—while it might seem daunting to address these differences, this is where compromise comes into play. To start, know that sexual compatibility is important. And while people are often told to stick things out when there’s an incompatibility, it’s not something you have to tolerate long-term. “Not being on the same page [sexually] is a legitimate reason to end a relationship,” says Engle. “It’s totally okay to end a relationship if it comes to that, and you can’t find a compromise.”
The good news, though, is that it’s possible to compromise in a way that leaves all parties happy and satisfied, according to Engle and Melancon. As long as there’s a good degree of overlap in sexual interests and kinks, successful compromise is possible, says Melancon. Being honest with yourself about what you do and don’t like will also help you communicate your sexual desires and boundaries better with your partner.
If you’re not sure how to explore your interests outside of the bedroom with your partner, Engle suggests finding a “yes, no, maybe” list online and taking time to go through what might be on or off the table.
You should also be mindful of when and how you bring up sexual incompatibilities with your partner. “It’s all about timing, tone, and turf,” says Engle. “You want to make sure you’re in a neutral place—not in the bedroom, not in the middle of the work day. Set time aside, sit down in the living room where it’s neutral, and come to the conversation with a really open mind.”
When it’s time to start the conversation, Engle notes that getting your partner’s consent is essential. This can sound like, for example, “Hey babe, sex is important to me and our relationship, and I really want to explore this with you. Are you in a place where you’d be open to having that conversation?” From there, you can exchange interests and work on a compromise together.
So, is there anything wrong with vanilla sex?
No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with vanilla sex. Vanilla sex can be just as rich, intimate, pleasurable, and fulfilling as any other sex. Whether you’re into kink or vanilla, it’s all of equal value, so long as consent and respect are part of the foundation.
“[In a] sex-positive world, we want to be so accepting of everyone. But in the process of that, it can make normative sex look boring or uninteresting,” says Melancon. “There are [many] ‘flavors,’ so to speak… It doesn’t mean that anyone is less than.”
Exploring ethical nonmonogamy isn’t always easy for couples who have been monogamous in the past.
By Ian Kerner
Can a monogamous couple become nonmonogamous? Of course, they can — but do these couples survive and thrive? What are the pitfalls and what are the pleasures?
More and more I’m seeing couples in my practice of all ages who have always been in monogamous relationships but now are seriously thinking about opening up their relationships. They are young couples just starting out, couples with young kids and a mortgage, and empty nesters looking to find their wings.
The reasons for taking the leap vary. Often one or both partners may be feeling sexually dissatisfied in the primary relationship — it may be boredom, mismatched libidos or a desire to explore new horizons. Sometimes there’s a hunger for the excitement and energy that come when people first connect with someone new. It’s also possible one or both partners don’t believe in monogamy. For some couples, sex has always been an issue, even though the rest of the relationship works.
No matter the reason, interest in nonmonogamy — participation in nonexclusive sexual relationships — is on the rise. In a 2020 study of 822 currently monogamous people by Kinsey Institute research fellow Justin Lehmiller, nearly one-third said that having an open relationship was their favorite sexual fantasy, and 80% wanted to act on it.
What happens if your relationship starts off as monogamous, and you or your partner change your mind? That doesn’t have to doom your relationship, Lehmiller said. “Research suggests that relationship quality is actually quite similar in monogamous and consensually nonmonogamous relationships,” he said. “Both relationship styles can work well — and both can fail, too.”
I believe the key to successful nonmonogamy is in one word: consensual. Known as ethical nonmonogamy, this approach is different from monogamous relationships in which partners cheat on each other. An ethically nonmonogamous relationship involves two people who identify as a couple but who are not committed to a traditional relationship, according to sexologist Yvonne Fulbright.
“They’ve given each other the opportunity to date or have sex with other people independently,” said Fulbright, who is based in Iceland. “Often a key component in these relationships working out is that the other relationship is only sexual, not romantic or emotional. There’s no deception about engaging in sex with others.”
Some couples may find ethical nonmonogamy easier than others. That includes those who have discussed the possibility of an open relationship from the beginning as well as LGBTQ couples. “In my experience, gay and queer couples have more ease with nonmonogamy,” New York-based sex therapist Dulcinea Alex Pitagora said.
“They’ve had to do more introspection and communication around their sexual or gender identity,” Pitagora said. “This additional time spent understanding who they are, what they want, and learning how to communicate it dovetails very smoothly into communicating about nonmonogamy.”
For couples who choose to open their relationships ethically, there can be benefits. “Nonmonogamy can be fulfilling and a catalyst for self-growth,” Wisconsin-based sex therapist Madelyn Esposito said. “This self-growth can deepen understanding and desire for your primary partner as you have the space to explore yourself and your own sexual needs outside of relational confines.”
In an open relationship there is often less pressure to have all your sexual needs met from your partner, Florida-based sex therapist Rachel Needle said. “And there is less pressure on you to meet all of your partner’s sexual needs. This gives you the opportunity to enjoy sexual activity with your partner but do it without added tension or anxiety.”
Sometimes the heat generated outside the bedroom even finds its way back into the primary relationship. “Many nonmonogamous folks find that partner variety revs up their libido, and that this transfers over into increased sex in the primary relationship,” Lehmiller said. “Something else we’ve found in our research is that, beyond sex, these relationships can also mutually reinforce each other. Specifically, being more satisfied with a secondary partner actually predicts being more committed to the primary partner.”
But making the leap into ethical nonmonogamy isn’t always easy for couples who have been historically monogamous. Often, one partner is “driving,” and the other is a reluctant passenger going along for the ride. Sometimes a couple can’t agree on what constitutes nonmonogamy (casual sex with different people versus repeatedly seeing one person), or they can’t agree on rules (posting a profile online, staying overnight, bringing someone home, no kissing).
One partner might be worried about the social stigma if others find out or just can’t get beyond all the cultural messaging that idealizes monogamy. Nonmonogamy can trigger strong feelings such as jealousy and possessiveness. “Even bringing it up as a curiosity can feel threatening to some couples/partners,” Fulbright said.
What should you consider if ethical nonmonogamy is on your mind?
There are any number of positive motivators for couples to try nonmonogamy, but what you don’t want to do is rely on nonmonogamy to slap a Band-Aid on existing problems. “Using nonmonogamy to fix a relationship is as effective as having a baby to fix a relationship — it’s a terrible idea,” said Rebecca Sokoll, a psychotherapist in New York City. “You need a strong and healthy relationship to make the transition to nonmonogamy.”
Don’t do it to distance yourself from your partner. “Ethical nonmonogamy can also be a defense mechanism, a delay tactic, a hide-and-seek game and an aversion to closeness,” said Minnesota-based psychotherapist Hanna Zipes Basel, who specializes in this area. “I see couples succeed when they enter nonmonogamy with an already secure functioning relationship, when they are both equally desiring nonmonogamy, and/or they have had prior experience or done their homework.”
“Get educated on the wide array of philosophies, structures and agreements that are possible in the ethical nonmonogamy world through books, podcasts and articles,” suggested sex therapist Sari Cooper, who directs the Center for Love and Sex in New York. “Journal about what each of you is looking for through this transition and discuss these goals with your partner to see if you’re on the same page and, if not, what overlaps or compromises might work.”
There’s no doubt that ethical nonmonogamy requires communication — and lots of it. “I suggest a ‘what if’ conversation before anyone takes anything into action,” Los Angeles-based sex therapist Tammy Nelson advised. “Talking about the potential positives as well as the pitfalls of a possible exploration can prevent problems that could come up later. The more you talk about the issues before they happen the better.”
A therapist experience in working with couples pursuing ethical nonmonogamy can help you weigh the potential pros and cons, guide you through the process and provide you with a neutral, safe space to discuss things.
Determine what ethical nonmonogamy looks like to you both and agree on your parameters — more rigid rules may be best when starting out — and plan to keep the conversation going.
“I see dozens of couples a year who come to therapy to try and negotiate their expectations in advance,” said Kimberly Resnick Anderson, a sex therapist in Los Angeles. “Couples who do their homework ahead of time have a much better success rate than couples who jump right in without preparation.
“Even couples who prep responsibly are often surprised by their reactions to certain situations and need to renegotiate boundaries.”
In my professional experience, the couples who succeed at nonmonogamy often don’t require many rules at all, because they trust each other, prioritize the primary relationship and hold each other in mind throughout the process.
If ethical nonmonogamy doesn’t work for you — or leads to a breakup — that doesn’t mean it’s a loss. “Consider a couple with children who, without ethical nonmonogamy, would have split up, and for whom nonmonogamy stabilizes their relationship,” New Jersey-based sex therapist Margie Nichols said.
“Eventually, that stability doesn’t last, but ethical nonmonogamy allows the couple to uncouple consciously and take time with the process,” Nichols said. “Because of the thoughtfulness, the family can remain living together or near each other and still love and care for each other, and there is no bitterness or rancor between the two. I’d call that a success — despite divorce.”
In the end, couples who succeed are fiercely committed to their primary relationship: They protect it, cherish it and care for it. They ensure that their foundation is solid and secure, and they continue to grow and expand as a couple in ways beyond sex. Nonmonogamy may be an exciting new chapter for a couple, but it doesn’t mean the story of their relationship comes to an end. It should feel like an exciting beginning.
“This language was supposed to be about trust, honesty, communication, and commitment— defining commitment in a different kind of way.” Across a staticky Zoom call, Emily Witt and I are comparing notes on non-monogamy. “It was supposed to prevent lying and concealment,” continues the journalist and author of the seminal 2017 book Future Sex: A New Kind of Free Love. “But I don’t really see it accomplishing that anymore—it actually seems to be giving people an excuse to act worse than ever.” She is in her office in New York, I’m in mine, in London—but despite an ocean of distance, our “notes” are markedly similar. “I’m sure this will feel familiar to most people on dating apps right now,” says Witt, rolling her eyes.
There had been a time when, like Witt, I approached non-monogamy with a kind of puppyish idealism. It was 2017 and terms like “poly” and “ethically non-monogamous” (ENM) had just begun to penetrate the mainstream—as refreshing as a cold Pepsi on a hot day. It felt like the start of something brave and new—the start of a redefinition, as Witt says.
Recently, though, I’ve begun to wonder whether we weren’t all a little too hasty in embracing this newfound terminology. For far too long, all I have heard is horror stories—friends (almost always women) unmoored by the dynamics in these “relationships.” “Nowadays,” says Witt, “you see the term ‘ethically non-monogamous’ [on someone’s profile] and it doesn’t necessarily mean that the person will behave ethically or articulate what those ethics mean. More often it’s like they’re making a pronouncement: ‘Play at your own risk, I’m not going to take any emotional responsibility for you.’”
Take 31-year-old Kate, for example. She recently matched on Feeld with a man who was in an open relationship. What she liked about him—let’s call him Shaun—was that he went to great lengths to be clear about how and why he’d opened the relationship with his “primary partner” (whom he’d been with for five years). He was clear about what his boundaries were, and how he hoped to bring other people, like Kate, into his life. It was refreshing, she explains, to have such a forthright conversation about what they both wanted. She hadn’t set out to date like this, but Shaun made it all sound so easy.
Plus, she had recently found that the ubiquity of non-monogamy—if not in practice, then certainly in app bios—made it hard to avoid. “There are maybe three monogamists left in London,” she quips. “And they’re all short.” She had a lot in common with Shaun, and they had a similar sense of humor, so after a week of messaging, she was excited to meet him for a drink. That first date was fun, they shared a kiss and kept talking. After their second date, Shaun came back to Kate’s and they slept together. “At about two in the morning, he turned to me and said, ‘By the way, my girlfriend and I have a rule that we can’t stay the night at other people’s places.’” In all the many hours of conversation about Shaun’s boundaries and his primary partner’s comfort levels, this “rule” had never come up.
“He got up, got dressed, and left. I was just lying in bed feeling really… I mean, it affected me, mentally. I felt used,” Kate tells me. And the worst part, she points out, is that she felt like she couldn’t voice her discomfort. “I thought it was illogical for me to feel used, because he’d been upfront about having a primary partner—and having a responsibility to that person… but he never said he wouldn’t sleep over, and if he had, I wouldn’t have had sex with him.” Afterwards, Shaun’s communication slowed, he became evasive or unresponsive, and eventually told her that he’d decided—for the good of his primary relationship—that he wouldn’t see the same person more than once. “It was like he’d used all this language about compassion, and openness—about bringing people in ‘ethically’—to lure me into a false sense of security about how he’d treat me. Then, as soon as we’d had sex, he used his non-monogamous status as a way to absolve himself of any responsibility to me. I’d rather he’d just said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not into this anymore.’ Instead, I was left feeling like it was my own fault that I was hurt, because that’s just what I’d signed up for.”
For Leanne Yau—a non-monogamy educator and founder of Poly Philia, a platform that offers digestible information on poly best practice—this is the absolute antithesis of what a poly lifestyle is meant to be about. She opens our conversation with an emphatic “I have a lot to say on this issue.” Yau, who has spent years advocating for this community, is irked by the influx of people co-opting the language of non-monogamy, without ever trying to understand the theory behind it. “Unfortunately, a lot of people have begun to conflate polyamory with being single and casually dating,” she says. “But being poly or ethically non-monogamous is about responsibility, and taking responsibility for your partners: you factor them into your decisions, you consider their feelings, you uphold your commitments to them and respect their boundaries. You strive to be open, honest, and compassionate towards them—it isn’t just a matter of reading someone their rights then doing whatever you want.”
The problem clearly isn’t the relationship configurations themselves—which, as Witt points out, were always meant to be about defining commitment, rather than safeguarding apathy. For her, it comes down to dating apps, which have spread the language of non-monogamy so widely, “that people who may not have heard the terms before, read a book like The Ethical Slut, or come out of a subculture where these practices are discussed and studied, will go on a dating app, see ‘ethical non-monogamy’ or ‘poly-curious,’ and take it to mean whatever they want it to.” Witt has often found herself untangling the miscommunications borne of this new world where two people might use the same word to mean two completely different things. “For instance,” she says, “I’ve had a guy whom I was dating—and whom I wanted a relationship with—say that he would be polyamorous with me.” Polyamory, as Witt understands it (and as I understand it, too), is the practice of having many concurrent relationships. If anything, it is a deeply committed way to live. Witt continues: “I said to him, ‘Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend? Because that’s not the vibe that I’m getting at all. It seems like you want to do whatever you want—and if it’s convenient for you to hang out with me, then you’ll be there, but otherwise not.’” They broke up soon afterwards—as she suspected, when he said “polyamorous,” he didn’t mean “boyfriend.” “But if I’d taken him at face value, I could have ended up quite badly hurt.”
This story is echoed by a friend who’s recently sworn off dating anyone on the ENM spectrum. “I’ve just found that what a person usually means is that they want to have regular sex without committing to you or to anyone—or they want the full relationship experience but without taking accountability for your feelings.” She says that, after trying this a few times, the lack of “stability and safety” that she felt in these relationships left her constantly on guard. “Ultimately I felt like people were whitewashing their bad behavior by couching it in these terms.”
“What is interesting to me,” says Sarah, who is 33, has been single for two years, and dates mainly via Feeld and Hinge, “is that we are well-versed in the red flags of jealousy and possessiveness—and we avoid these like the plague—but there is another end of the spectrum now, equally dangerous in some ways, where someone uses non-monogamy to convey a sense that they are so free-spirited that they simply cannot be pinned down. I’ve noticed increasingly that it’s older men who are calling themselves ENM—Peter Pan boys in their 40s, who have learned a new language to help them avoid accountability and protect their ‘free to fuck anyone I like’ status. It puts the onus on you, like, ‘Am I going to eat the crumbs you’re offering, knowing that I’ll never feel satisfied, or do I just walk away?’ And if you don’t walk away, then it’s all on you.”
Witt sees the rise in people proclaiming themselves poly as part of a wider trend within the app-sphere for “pop psych” explanations for our behaviors. “I’m sure you’ve seen all that stuff about attachment styles and ‘love languages,’” she says. “If another guy tells me he’s ‘avoidant,’ as if it’s some way to excuse behaving irresponsibly towards someone, I might actually scream.” For Yau, the misuse of poly and ENM terms comes down to the fact that we live in a highly individualistic society. Non-monogamy is ultimately a relational state—something that’s meant to be discussed, explored, and defined by the people engaging in it. It’s not so much something you “are,” as something you do with other people—so the premise of it breaks down when we use it to defend or prop up a behavior, like, “sorry, this is just who I am.”
Personally, I feel a lot of compassion for people who are blundering their way through this new world. I spent a year in an ENM relationship doing just that—and looking back, I can see myself in many of these descriptions of bad behavior. I learned rather quickly that the utopian ideal of “anything goes as long as we’re honest” could, in practice, be corrupting, painful, and humiliating. It wasn’t because I personally was a bad-faith actor—as I said, I entered with an idealistic outlook—but rather, that I hadn’t taken the time to properly educate myself on what was required. Also—and perhaps most crucially—my partner at the time wasn’t really up for it. He went along with it because those were the only terms I was offering—at first uncertainly, then with a gusto which was mainly born out of a desire to “teach me a lesson.” He was hurt that I didn’t want to be with him exclusively, so then he slept with other people to show me what this hurt was like—and when he did, I was rarely allowed to express dismay because “I wanted this” and “this was my choice.” Both of which were true—I did want it, it was my choice—but I’ve never felt such searing hot jealousy as the time he came home from a wedding and explained that the reason he’d stopped replying to my messages halfway through the evening was because he was sleeping with a bridesmaid. As a friend said to me at the time: “There are only ever two people in an open relationship, the one who wants it and the one who’s crying themselves to sleep at night.” Somehow I was both.
All of which is to say that I’m not here to call anyone out or point any fingers. I’d like to think that most people don’t have bad intentions—we’re all just trying our best. It’s just that as people calling themselves “non-monogamous” take up more and more space within the dating sphere, we must try to understand the emotional sticky patches—the murkiness, as well as the light. It clearly isn’t ever okay to make someone feel disposable—but it’s particularly not okay if you’re co-opting terms which have been specifically developed to guard against that. At this point, you’re not just hurting someone’s feelings, you’re making them question what right they have to be hurt—a strange kind of gaslighting.
After a drunken night out, a friend sends me a link to an article by New York Times columnist Michelle Goldberg, a review of Rethinking Sex: A Provocation by Christine Emba, in which Emba explores the concept of “sexual liberation” as it currently exists. There’s one particular line, my friend says, which made her think of our discussion about ENM: “What passes for sex positivity is a culture of masochism disguised as hedonism. It’s what you get when you liberate sex without liberating women.” In a way, she says, this is how she feels about non-monogamy now: We are more liberated than ever before from the old strictures of monogamy—but we’re not evolved enough to know what to do with, or how to act in, our freedom.
It’s pretty much the bread and butter of every mainstream romance book and rom-com: the ~exclusive relationship~. Cue the hearts, sunsets, and kisses in the rain! And while exclusive relationships might seem like the end-all-be-all definition of lurve, there’s actually a lot more to monogamy than what you’ve seen in Hallmark movies. In fact, if you’re trying to figure out what it really means to be in an exclusive relationship, the IRL version is a little less “hold me forever” and a little more “it’s your turn to take out the trash.”
In reality, people typically enter into exclusive relationships for emotional support, physical comfort, companionship, stability, and even safety, explains dating coach Blaine Anderson, founder of Dating By Blaine. “The right partner can accentuate and improve virtually every aspect of your life, from mundane things like waking up and making coffee, to big things like starting a new job or traveling to a foreign country,” she says.
But being in an exclusive relationship is about more than just having someone to eat dinner with and argue over what to watch on Netflix. Relationship therapist and consultant, Stephanie Mintz, LMFT, adds that some individuals don’t feel comfortable being physically intimate with others unless they’re monogamous. This could be because they view physical intimacy as an expression of singular commitment, or it could be due to health concerns.
Whether you’re considering taking the leap with a special someone or you’re just trying to learn more about different types of relationships, you’ve come to the right place. Here’s everything you need to know about being in an exclusive relationship and having the coveted, perpetual plus-one.
What does “exclusive” mean?
The movies usually stop when the couple finally gets together, which can make the whole concept of what it actually means to be in an exclusive relationship a little confusing. “Typically, it means monogamy,” says licensed psychotherapist Rachel Wright, founder of Shame Free Therapy and Zumio sex educator. “It means: ‘We’re no longer available for romantic or sexual relationships with anyone else.’” The concept usually applies to both the emotional and physical aspects of a romantic relationship. So, in theory, you like/love only this person, and you also do the no-pants dance with them and only them too.
Additionally, Anderson adds, both partners in an exclusive, monogamous relationship are typically expected to be physically and emotionally faithful. “[This] can mean different things to different people though, so it’s beneficial to set clear expectations and boundaries with anyone you’re considering being exclusive with,” she says.
As with most things, this isn’t a one-size-fits-all deal. Some people aren’t a fan of the lack of variety or spontaneity generally associated with exclusivity, while others choose to adapt the concept to fit their needs. Nowadays more and more couples are taking the time to lay out what exclusivity means to their relationship, Anderson says, so the definition won’t necessarily be the same for everyone.
In fact, there can be—and oftentimes is—exclusivity in open and polyamorous relationships too, notes Mintz. “The exclusivity can be with more than one person with discussions and agreements understood by all of the people in the relationship.”
What counts as cheating in an exclusive relationship?
Just like the definition of an exclusive relationship varies on who you ask, what it means to cheat is going to depend on the couple. As a very base level across the board, though, cheating = a broken agreement, Wright says. That’s why cheating can happen in non-monogamous relationships; it all goes back to crossing some sort of boundary. When it comes to exclusive relationships, though, Wright adds that this typically means “having sex or flirting” with someone other than your monogamous partner.
But since every relationship—exclusive and non—is different, what one couple counts as cheating, another might consider a normal Tuesday night. Some partners might be cool with kissing but intercourse is off the table, while others count any type of physical or emotional intimacy (like long, heart-felt chats or mushy texts) with someone outside of their relationship to be cheating, Mintz says.
This is why agreeing on what your relationship does and doesn’t mean in regards to intimacy is essential to fostering a successful bond. You might come to find that you’re okay with your partner flirting with other people but not crossing a physical line, or vice versa, and it’s all totally normal.
How do you talk about exclusivity with your partner?
If you think you’re ready to define the relationship, the first thing you want to do is find a good time to bring up the convo so it won’t feel rushed. Waiting in line at the grocery store or catching them between Zoom meetings isn’t ideal. Anderson says you’ll also want to bring the topic up in a safe, private place where you both feel comfortable sharing and listening.
When you go to lay your heart on the line, Wright suggests explaining that you want to talk about relationship exclusivity and check to see if they’re receptive to that conversation. This isn’t an ambush. They might need more time to get in the proper headspace. From there, honesty—even if it’s hard—is key to ensuring both of your needs are heard. Try to keep the conversation respectful, open, and judgment-free, and take breaks if needed.
The caveat here, of course, is that you could be on two totally different pages. You might want to be exclusive and they might not believe in closing the relationship or aren’t ready for that step. While that might hurt, it doesn’t mean you should take that as your cue to pressure them or give an ultimatum. “Being respectful does not include trying to convince someone to change their mind so you’re on the same page,” Mintz explains. “Take what the person is saying at face value and decide whether you want to continue being with them in light of the knowledge you’re given.”
Does exclusivity work for everyone?
Nope! Despite how most mainstream media makes it seem, monogamy isn’t always the move. In fact, according to Anderson, many people rush into this type of relationship before they’re actually ready. If you’re considering embarking on an exclusive relationship, Anderson and Mintz say you should really consider whether or not you know each other well enough to make such a commitment. Are you aware of each other’s imperfections? Do you trust them to meet (at least most of) your needs and expectations? Can you meet (most of) theirs? And finally, are you both actually ready to be exclusive?
Unfortunately, people often say they *want* to be exclusive, but their actions speak otherwise. “If you’re seeing someone who talks about wanting exclusivity, but doesn’t seem to want it in practice, they don’t want it,” Anderson says. The same thing goes for you. If you find yourself thinking of straying, missing being single, or going behind your partner’s back, exclusivity probs isn’t a good fit right now. (Or ever, even.)
The good news is that relationships and exclusivity aren’t synonymous. If you love the idea of being with one person, great. If not, also great because there are a lot of different types of fulfilling relationships out there to explore. “We are brought up into a mononormative society, so most folks assume an ‘exclusive’ relationship is the only way to move towards moving in together and potentially marriage and kids,” Wright says. “But monogamy is not the only long-term committed relationship design option.” There are open relationships, ethically non-monogamous relationships, polyamorous relationships, and triads, just to name a few.
That’s what’s great about modern relationships: It’s up to you and your partner(s) to define them. As long as you communicate with each other, respect one another, and maybe even share a few kisses in the rain, you’ll have that coveted romantic comedy-worthy bond.
In fact, recent research by Lovehoney has uncovered that, as Brits become more sexually explorative and adventurous than ever, one in four Brits say they would consider an open relationship or some kind of polyamory in their lives, while 31% of Brits do not believe in monogamy at all.
Often when we speak about non-monogamy, there’s an assumption that decisions about the dynamic of a relationship made between couples (whether they’re about polyamory or anything else really) are permanent and unchangeable. A common misconception in relationships is that once a boundary is laid down, it’s immobile.
That myth can put people off trying an open relationship. A quick scroll through the non monogamy subreddit will show bouts of people concerned that an open relationship may have no end if they come to dislike it, or already do.
But while boundaries should always be respected, they’re subject to change as individuals and couples grow. If a relationship dynamic is making you uncomfortable, you have every right to negotiate with your partner and propose a new chapter.
Closing open relationships is more common than you might think. Hairdresser Izzy, 31, and her husband shift manager James, 35, opened their marriage after five years of being in a relationship and one year of marriage.
‘We’re both bisexual but neither of us have had a chance to explore things with the opposite sex, always being in hetero relationships,’ Izzy tells Metro.co.uk. ‘We decided to give each other that chance as like a gift.’
For two years, they loved having an open relationship.
‘Neither of us got serious with other people and we still had sex with one another and made lots of time for dates,’ Izzy shares. ‘In a way nothing changed between us really, just I slept with women and Jake slept with men and we felt like we were finally getting to explore our queer identities.’
Things changed for the couple when Izzy got pregnant.
She tells us: ‘Lots of poly couples make a pregnancy work. I’ve seen couples who involve the other partners and the kid gets to have a load of parents who all of them. For us, though, it felt icky.
Communication is key
‘Being pregnant made me want to close our relationship again and just focus on the three of us, at least for the time being.’
Bella and James think they will eventually re-open their relationship but not until their child, now six months old, is a bit older.
‘I think because we weren’t serious with any of our partners, it didn’t feel natural to involve polyamory with our pregnancy or keep it going,’ Bella adds. ‘And soon I would be so big that sex would kind of be off the cards, wouldn’t it?’
Thankfully for the couple, closing the relationship wasn’t a huge deal.
‘Again I think because we didn’t have any romantic attachment to any of the people we were sleeping with, like we weren’t serious or committed to any of them, [closing the relationship] was sort of easy,’ Bella explains. ‘When we found out we were pregnant, we both just kind of said we should probably stop.’
Gigi Engle, a certified sex educator who specialises in relationship diversity, says closing a relationship can be complicated, ‘but so is opening a relationship’. The key is good old communication.
She tells us: ‘If both partners are down to close the relationship, it’s totally doable. You just have to be on the same page about it.
‘But the thing about open relationships (and relationships in general) is that both people have to want that style of relationship for the relationship to thrive.’
She adds that if one partner wants an open relationship and one partner wants a closed relationship, this is a recipe for disaster.
She continues: ‘Really, what it comes down to is, are you okay with it if your partner wants to close the relationship?
‘If you don’t want to close it, is that a compromise you’re willing to make? It’s really okay if you don’t want to close it, and it’s okay if you do.’
It’s okay for your relationship to change
If you are on different pages, Engle suggests involving a qualified psychosexual therapist to try to work through that conversation, ‘because you’re fundamentally incompatible on this topic’.
‘It may have to end the relationship, which isn’t a bad thing because you deserve to live your truth,’ Gigi comments.
‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to close your open relationship. A lot of couples who have close really open relationships often close them at least for periods of time.
‘For instance, like when one partner gets pregnant, the couple may decide to close the relationship during the time of the pregnancy because there’s so much emotional support needed.’
Students Sammi*, 22, and Danielle*, 21, opened their relationship after they’d been together for three years.
Sammi tells Metro.co.uk: ‘My partner had never been with a male before and wanted to experiment, I was eager to explore being open and sleeping with other people except my partner, we didn’t have sex particularly often as we both take antidepressants and find our libidos don’t line up as often as we’d like.’
The couple discussed the idea for a while, downloading dating apps together and making sure they understood and respected each other’s boundaries, before starting to see other people.
‘Soon we started dating others and further on, we ended up having threesomes with people we had each met individually which was an exciting experience,’ Sammi shares. ‘But my partner struggled with this and found it hard to articulate their exact feelings as they weren’t sure what they were feeling themselves.’
Eventually Sammi’s partner, who is non-binary, realised the envy they were feeling wasn’t over Sammi sleeping with men, but over the men themselves.
‘In the end, my partner realised that actually the jealousy was more envy of the males I was meeting as they themselves did not identify as female,’ Sammi explains. ‘We decided to close the relationship again as it brought up feelings we didn’t want to have to work through.
‘So basically our open relationship triggered a gender identity crisis for my partner but ended in an awakening.’
Sammi also realised that she was having sex with men for validation, and she and her partner found this unhealthy – adding another reason to close the relationship.
The conversation about closing their open relationship was made a lot easier because they’d discussed the importance of communicating any and all feelings right when they first discussed polyamory.
Sammi says: ‘We didn’t have a timescale in mind, just for as long as we both enjoyed it and felt we wanted it to be open.
‘I really can’t emphasise the importance of communication during this time as I really think it would have ended us if we couldn’t be open and discuss these things without judgement from the other side.’
Gigi recommends discussing the potential closure of an open relationship from the very beginning, when you first discuss the idea of opening the relationship.
‘When opening, it has to be clear that this might not work and that you’re willing to work through that possibility together,’ she says.
If you want to close your open relationship, these conversations can’t be avoided.
‘You should be living your most authentic life so that you don’t end up miserable and resentful of your partner,’ Gigi says.
She adds that some people go back and forth on opening and closing their relationships, while others open their relationship for a few years then close it again because they’re done with that part of their sexual exploration.
‘It’s completely fine to do and doesn’t make you boring,’ Gigi shares. ‘It doesn’t mean that you’re doing anything wrong.
‘After many years, relationships shift, they change, they never stay stagnant.
‘And what works for you at one point in your life may not work in another.’
Many of us grow up alongside narratives of a “happily ever after” one-soulmate-kind-of love, but this cultural ideal is far from a universal reality—or even a universal desire. Just like someone might have several friends who meet various social needs, there are a lot of people, myself included, who crave more than one romantic or sexual partner. And if that’s the case—and you’re already committed to one partner—it makes sense that you might be interested in the idea of an open relationship.
That decision is a hugely personal one of course, and it’s important to recognize that open relationships, where two partners consensually agree to seek sex and/or love outside of their existing relationship, aren’t for everyone. They can feel complicated and, at times, downright messy—not only because many of us live in societies that don’t support nonmonogamy, but also because open relationships can bring up issues around jealousy, boundaries, and relationship goals that can all be pretty intense to navigate.
That said, they can also be incredibly fulfilling. To help you decide whether some kind of open arrangement makes sense for your love life, we asked Dulcinea Alex Pitagora, PhD, LCSW, a New York City–based therapist who specializes in nonmonogamous relationships, for the most important questions to ponder before opening up an existing relationship.
1. What does an “open relationship” mean to you?
If you’re researching this topic for the first time, you’ll likely come across a whole lot of new vocabulary, but the umbrella term for most types of open relationships is ethical nonmonogamy (ENM)—a dynamic in which transparency and communication are at the core of the choices you and your partner(s) make.
Polyamory—having more than one intimate relationship at once—is one way to practice ENM, but there are different types of polyamorous arrangements. For example, you may end up realizing that you align best with a “hierarchical polyamory” dynamic, in which you prioritize one primary relationship over the others. Or, you may prefer “nonhierarchical polyamory,” where every partnership is treated as equal.
Swinging is another form of ENM in which committed couples engage in strictly sexual activities with other couples or single people at the same time. Or maybe a couple wants to date other people together, whether that be with an occasional casual hook-up or in an entirely new relationship structure (like a triad, with three partners being equally committed to one another).
Whether you identify strongly with a preexisting structure or not, though, it’s important to remember that ethical nonmonogamy can be about rewriting the scripts we’re often given when it comes to love and sex—and that ultimately means you’re free to create whatever structure works for you and your partner(s).
2. Why do you really want to do this?
There are a lot of reasons why a couple might consider opening up their existing relationship. A 2022 article published in the journal Sexologies outlined eight potential motivations for polyamory, including fulfillment of needs not met in a monogamous relationship, expression of political values, and the desire to belong to a community.
Asking yourself and your partner whether you’re drawn to having more sex, more love, or some combination of the two can help you start to identify your motivations for exploring an open relationship—as well as whether or not you could both get your needs met by ENM.
3. Are you hoping to “fix” a troubled relationship?
Ethical nonmonogamy isn’t a magical cure for any and all relationship problems. For example, sometimes one partner has come to identify as nonmonogamous while the other hasn’t—but perhaps feels they should embrace nonmonogamy in order to “save” the relationship. In these instances, Dr. Pitagora says doing so might mean that one or both partners end up having to compromise facets of their identities or relationship goals—which can ultimately cause the relationship to break down.
The same is true for partners who are struggling in potentially irreparable ways, but are perhaps “too enmeshed or codependent to break up,” they say. This might look like irreconcilable differences in the desire to become a parent (maybe one person wants children, while the other does not), conflicting morals and values, or the age-old issue that is simply falling out of love.
“Exploring nonmonogamy tends to highlight strengths and weaknesses in relationships, which provides opportunities for personal and relationship growth,” they add. “Along with that growth might come a realization that an open arrangement could help both partners feel more satisfied—or that the relationship isn’t working.”
4. Do you feel comfortable talking about boundaries?
Even in the most established relationships (between parent and child, close friends, or romantic partners), many of us struggle to communicate our needs. For folks opening up their relationships, however, learning each other’s boundaries and fully respecting them is crucial, Dr. Pitagora says.
There are a lot of necessary conversations to have when you’re considering bringing other people into your romantic life, including discussions around the practicalities of your situation: where you’ll meet other people; where you’ll be intimate; whether you’ll be introducing them to friends, family, or children; how you’d like to divide your time; and many more. And these boundaries may need to be negotiated, to make sure both people are comfortable with the perimeters.
If you struggle with communicating your boundaries, though, that doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t have a healthy open relationship. Dr. Pitagora suggests first telling your partner about your fears. You can say something like, “I’m curious about an open relationship but I’m worried that I won’t be able to be honest with you about my feelings, or that you won’t respect my needs.” If your partner isn’t receptive and reassuring, that’s a sign that opening the relationship probably isn’t a good idea, they say, since, again, communication and respecting boundaries are crucial for ENM to work.
If even having that conversation freaks you out, it’s okay to take your time getting used to boundary-setting before you explore ENM further. Dr. Pitagora recommends first practicing communicating your needs in “low stakes situations,” like verbalizing an implicit boundary with a close friend—something like, “I appreciate how we don’t text after 10 p.m. when I have to get up early for work the next day, can we keep doing that and call it a boundary?”
You might then try a more challenging boundary—maybe asking a not-so-close friend not to text you after 10. Finally, you can raise the stakes further still by telling your partner what you are and aren’t comfortable with when it comes to an open relationship. “It’s an ongoing practice that eventually will feel easier with time and repetition,” Dr. Pitagora says. They also note that if you have a hard time expressing your needs and boundaries in relationships, individual therapy can be extremely beneficial.
5. How do you deal with jealousy?
Whether you’re monogamous or nonmonogamous, jealousy is one of those very human emotions that can creep up even when you don’t necessarily expect it. If you’re opening up your relationship, however, you’ll have to be willing to dissect the heck out of those feelings and contemplate the ways your jealousy might be a problem.
For instance, do you lash out with aggression, or become insular and unwilling to discuss your feelings? Or maybe you ignore those feelings entirely and pretend everything is okay while they eat you up inside? All of these reactions are signs that your jealousy could get in the way of the healthy communication required for a successful open relationship.
“Jealousy, like all emotions, contains valuable information about something we need to heal from or some need that’s not being met,” Dr. Pitagora explains. The reality of a newly open relationship is that it might bring jealousy to the forefront, but ultimately this can give partners an opportunity to reflect. Slowing down, contemplating your feelings, and collaborating with your partner is a healthy approach to jealousy, and you can also practice it in advance of opening up a relationship, they add.
For example, maybe the thought of multiple partners makes you feel insecure about the strength of your primary partnership, and dedicated couple time might help ease that discomfort. Or perhaps you realize that you’re feeling undervalued, and a more even distribution of household chores would help you feel more appreciated before you consider an open arrangement.
6. Do you rely on other people to validate your worth?
Self-acceptance is being marketed to us left and right these days and there’s a lot of noise out there about how you need to love yourself before you can love somebody else (or multiple somebody elses, in this case). But that journey isn’t typically linear, and you don’t necessarily have to “love yourself fully” (whatever that means) before you welcome other types of love into your life.
“Humans need other humans to live, and feeling validated through love from others is healthy, regardless of one’s level of security,” Dr. Pitagora explains. In fact, feeling loved or validated by others can ultimately increase personal feelings of self-worth, they say, in a psychological phenomenon known as positive “reflected appraisals”—when people perceive someone else’s appraisal of them as positive, their self-perception can become more positive, too.
That said, “if someone is completely reliant on someone else’s love and validation for a feeling of self-worth, that can be problematic, in that they may not be able to function if that other person is no longer available to provide love and validation,” Dr. Pitagora says. “And if working on self-compassion feels really uncomfortable to someone, I would say it’s likely they fall into that category.”
Basically, you shouldn’t necessarily rely on someone else (or multiple partners) for your entire sense of self-worth or fulfillment, but there’s no shame in craving more love and validation from others. And if that love and validation come in the form of an open relationship that feels good to all parties involved, then ethical nonmonogamy might be your happily ever after.
As Dr. Pitagora puts it, if both partners feel that an open relationship could help satisfy some of their unmet emotional and/or physical needs and “a couple has good communication practices in place, a foundation of trust, and a willingness to put in the hard work that usually takes place in the beginning of a nonmonogamous learning curve, then I say go for it.”
After two years of tumult, these essential conversations can help couples talk about what’s working, what’s not and where the relationship is headed.
By Catherine Pearson
The past two-plus years have been universally tumultuous, and couples therapists say they have been dealing with the fallout in their practices every day.
Even now, when the pandemic no longer dominates daily life, many Americans continue to work, shop and do so much online that they count on their partners to meet their social and emotional needs.
“In my office, I see the burden this trend places on primary romantic relationships,” said Laura Silverstein, a licensed clinical social worker and the author of “Love Is an Action Verb.” She co-owns a practice in Pennsylvania that has been struggling to keep up with the demand.
Many of Ms. Silverstein’s couples are stuck in “isolated survival mode,” she said. Their relationships are all about managing household tasks, nothing more. Other couples have forgotten how to have fun, she said, or how important it is to have spontaneous interactions with the outside world. Some are still processing trauma.
The seven questions here will help you check in, whether you are in a relationship that is still reeling from the pandemic, or you long ago dove back into your old routines without pausing to touch base.
The couples counselors and sex therapists who suggested these questions said they should spark interesting conversation, whether you are in a decades-long relationship or a relatively new one, and become easier to ask and answer with practice.
1. What do we like to do together for fun?
A key theory about why couples divorce or grow dissatisfied with each other is that the sense of joy, passion and overall positivity they had early on erodes over time, said Sarah Whitton, a psychologist and the director of the Today’s Couples and Families research program at the University of Cincinnati.
Physical attraction and hormones aren’t the only reasons relationships are exciting in the early days. “We spend our time doing fun activities,” Dr. Whitton said.
She encourages couples to take out a calendar and look back over the past week or month and ask, “How many minutes did we spend actually doing something fun or pleasurable together?” Then they can try to build on it.
Galena Rhoades, a clinical psychologist and research professor at the University of Denver, thinks all couples should spend some time deliberately discussing how they’ve divided child care and housework and whether that is working logistically and emotionally.
“Set aside a specific time to talk about the subject of who does what and what roles you want to have going forward,” she said. Plan for it like you would for a business meeting, Dr. Rhoades said. Know what you want to talk about, and minimize distractions. Be as explicit as possible about who is going to do what, then give the new routine a few weeks before you check in again.
3. What is one thing we like about our sex life?
If couples are in a sexual rut — and there is evidence that Americans were having less partnered sex and even masturbating less frequently even before the pandemic — they tend to focus on the negatives, said Tammy Nelson, a sex therapist and the author of “Open Monogamy: A Guide to Co-Creating Your Ideal Relationship Agreement.”
But, she believes, it is much more effective to focus on what’s working. “You don’t change your sex life by saying, ‘I hate it when you go to the left.’ You say, ‘I love it when you go to the right,’” Dr. Nelson argued.
She encourages people in relationships to name one thing they appreciate about their sex life. It could be something they did together 20 years ago, or it could be a subtle gesture, like how one partner touches the other’s face. Focusing attention on those moments — and discussing them openly together — can help reignite “erotic energy,” Dr. Nelson said.
4. How have we helped each other through hard times?
Whenever you go through a difficult stretch together, it is important to take time after to debrief, Ms. Silverstein said. What worked? What didn’t? Even if the past few years have been traumatic for you and your partner for any number of reasons, most couples can identify what she called micromoments when they came through for each other.
Another way of thinking about it is, “How did we rely on each other, and how did that feel to each of us?” suggested Jesse Kahn, a licensed clinical social worker and director of the Gender and Sexuality Therapy Center in New York City.
5. Are we still on the same page about monogamy?
Monogamy means many things to many people, Dr. Nelson said, and that’s not just true for those in open relationships. She encourages her clients to regularly update their “monogamy agreements” by discussing the details of what forms of attachment they find acceptable outside of their main relationship, and asking whether those have changed.
Be specific. Perhaps you and your partner long ago agreed to sexual fidelity. But what about online conversations? “What about things like pornography?” Dr. Nelson asked. “What about flirting with a friend? What about having lunch with an ex?”
6. What is something that is worrying you that you haven’t told me about yet?
Rafaella Smith-Fiallo, a licensed clinical social worker and sex and couples therapist, believes this is a good question for people to ask their partners regularly (as in daily or weekly), but it can also be a useful one to pose in bigger moments of transition. You’re opening the door for your partner to be vulnerable with you, she said, and reminding you both that you are a team.
Resist the urge to immediately try to solve problems. Instead, practice active listening, Ms. Smith-Fiallo said. “It may be awkward. It may be messy. It may be uncomfortable,” she said. “But hold space for it, knowing you are in this together.”
7. How can I help you feel more loved?
“I just think this is a beautiful question,” said Ms. Silverstein, who credits it to the well-known marriage researcher John Gottman. People looking to make their romantic relationship stronger often focus on asking for what they want and what they need, which is important, Ms. Silverstein said. But asking this question is a clear way of communicating how much your partner matters to you.
“We want to create a culture in our conversations with our partners that is equally asking for what we need, but also being generous and offering to meet our partner’s needs,” Ms. Silverstein said.
How to approach relationship check-ins
These questions can be thorny, so the experts said couples should plan ahead and really try to use their best communication skills. Don’t ask them when you’re busy feeding your kids breakfast, or when your partner is half-asleep. Be thoughtful and considerate about finding a time that works for you both.
It may be helpful to use “I” statements when discussing your relationship, Ms. Smith-Fiallo added. So instead of saying something like, “You made me feel,” try something like, “When this happened, I felt XYZ,” she explained. (All of the experts mentioned that some couples would find these conversations much easier and more constructive with the help of a therapist.)
Then, practice, practice, practice. The goal is not only to have these kinds of state-of-the-union check-ins after stretches of big change and transition, but to create a culture of communication in your relationship where you have a standing relationship summit daily, weekly, monthly and yearly, Ms. Smith-Fiallo said.
“It can be really helpful in reminding each other that you are a team,” she said. “You are in this together.”
In her debut story collection, Watching Women & Girls, Riposte founder Danielle Pender examines the pillars of female life – love, duty, ambition, friendship, and sex – from every angle. Ahead of publication on 23 June, she considers what it takes to sustain sexual attraction with a long-term partner.
By Danielle Pender
Desire, what an intoxicating drug. More potent than any class As, more overwhelming than any hallucinogens. It’s a want, a need, a yearning for someone or something that can consume your thoughts, energy, and sometimes your life. At the beginning of any relationship, desire is the fuel that propels two people toward each other, and it can be an explosive experience. So, it’s no wonder that once we’ve experienced it, we want to chase that high again and again. But, as with all things that burn so intensely, that light can sometimes wane or go out entirely.
It’s a familiar tale; a couple meets, and at the beginning they’re permanently naked – unable to keep their hands off each other, their desire simply cannot be satiated, and when they’re not together their thoughts are consumed by one another. Imagination fuels this electric period as you fantasise about the gaps in the other person’s personality. You’re both on your A-game, you bring your best self to every date, you wear the good underwear, the uncomfortable but hot outfits, you wax and preen regularly – but that kind of upkeep and performance isn’t sustainable, so, over time, you both relax. You begin to wear sweatpants in each other’s company more often; perhaps the bathroom door gets left open. The desire for each other still lingers, but it moves into a lower gear. It becomes more manageable as other areas of life such as jobs, kids, family, and friends need attending to. And then, without notice, the desire that burned so bright at the beginning becomes more difficult to ignite. Perhaps it still flares up but less regularly, or it might dissipate completely. At this point, some couples will go their separate ways in search of that alluring high elsewhere, but what about the couples who are in it for the long haul? Who are still in love and want to stay together but also miss the burning desire that has fizzled out?
We can’t talk about desire without delving into the work of Esther Perel, the renowned psychotherapist who has spent years working with couples and looking into the origins and psychology of desire. In her now-famous TED talk, Perel describes the central conflict in any long-term relationship regarding desire. On the one hand, for a long-term relationship to work, there has to be security, trust, predictability and safety, especially when children are involved. These anchoring and grounding needs are essential to developing a lasting bond; however, this all stands in direct conflict with the things that incite desire: adventure, excitement, mystery, and surprise. Further in her talk, Perel says, “Love enjoys knowing everything about you; desire needs mystery. Love likes to shrink the distance between you and me, while desire is energised by it.” Anyone who has felt their desire for their partner bolstered by a few days apart knows this to be true.
Perel goes on to make the point that whereas, in the past, marriage was seen as an economic arrangement to secure social standing and ensure succession with a person’s various needs being met by a wider cast of people from the community, now, we ask our partners to be our co-parent, best friend, lover, financial partner – our everything. It’s a lot to require of one person. As Perel says, we’re demanding that our partners give us both “comfort” and “edge”.
Understanding this eternal conflict around desire in long-term relationships gives it a broader context. It helps us see that the waning desire we may be experiencing isn’t necessarily a deeper symptom of a failing relationship but more a reflection of our changing societal expectations around marriage and long-term partnerships. However, there are many other reasons why desire fades in relatively happy long-term relationships that are also worth exploring.
Sara has been with her husband for 10 years and married for five. She explains that when they first got together, their sex was always intense. After two years, they moved in together, and very slowly, things started to change; as Sara tells me, “When we lived together, we were in our mid-20s, so we were working and going out a lot, and the domestic side of life wasn’t an issue. After a while, I started to do more around the house, and he didn’t. It’s carried on like that until now we’re 10 years in, and it’s a battle to get him to do anything. He says it just doesn’t bother him.” Sara sees her fading desire for her husband in direct correlation to his lack of input into domestic chores. “It’s almost like I don’t want to please him in bed because he can’t be bothered to please me elsewhere.” It’s not that Sara doesn’t feel sexual desire or have the urge for pleasure, though. “I’m really conflicted about it. The desire for sex is still there, but just not as much with him because of this household issue.”
This issue of energy expended on domestic tasks remains a drain on desire even if both parties are equally invested in maintaining a clean and tidy house. So often, our time and attention are stretched in many directions. In short, modern life is exhausting, and sometimes our sexual desires are so dampened or suppressed by the end of the day that the last thing we feel like doing is having sex with our partners. Sometimes, it can feel like another thing to do.
Amma started to feel like the spark in her relationship had faded after the birth of her second child. “My husband was at work all of the time, I was with the kids when I was on maternity and then when I went back to work I just wanted to sleep the minute the kids had gone to bed.” This relentless schedule will be familiar to many parents. It’s the intense side of having children when many aspects of your life are sacrificed to prioritise the things that need attending to immediately – namely your kids and your job. Amma started to feel a distance growing between her and her husband, which made her feel lonely and depressed – on top of feeling stressed at work and stretched at home. “It just got to be too much. I still deeply loved my husband, and I missed him more than anything, but I just didn’t have that desire, so we decided to set time aside to be together. At first, we’d just go to bed together at 9pm on a Tuesday and Thursday, talk, laugh, chill, and reconnect. That really helped with our intimacy, and it was less pressure than a ‘date night’ or even cooking dinner for each other.” This new schedule led to them prioritising each other more, which led to actual date nights (when they had more energy and time), and now Amma says their desire for each other has been reignited, albeit in a more scheduled capacity, “I think we have this idea that desire should just take us in the moment and should be spontaneous, but I don’t buy that. When you both have a lot going on, you have to make time and space for it to arrive.”
This idea of space is something that Perel talks about a lot. She explains that for desire to exist, it needs space to develop. We need space for our imagination to wander, to explore our own erotic privacy. In one of her past studies on desire, Perel asked participants when they were most drawn to their partners, to which the most common answer was, “when they’re away”.
We need to have the opportunity to miss our partner, to not know everything about them and experience a little mystery. Think about it: the familiarity and closeness that comes with living with someone for a long time can also smother sparks of desire. If you’ve seen your partner carry out their less-than-appealing daily ablutions, if you wash their dirty underwear, if you’ve heard and smelt them in the toilet, it can be hard to separate that version of your partner from the person you’re supposed to have hot and passionate sex with. Amma agrees. “Along with dedicating more time for each other, I separated myself from my husband a little bit. I lock the bathroom door now and encourage him to do the same. It’s not that I’m not comfortable around him, but some things he doesn’t need to see, and I definitely don’t need to hear. It’s like a respectful distance.”
We also need to give ourselves space. Sometimes in the mayhem of modern life, we shut ourselves down, or we lose touch with certain aspects of ourselves, our desires and what gives us real pleasure. Prioritising pleasure can feel self-indulgent when there are family matters to attend to, work that needs doing, or a home that needs cleaning and organising, but putting our own pleasure first is never selfish. Maintaining desire in a long-term relationship means maintaining contact with ourselves. It means living fully in our own bodies and showing up for ourselves. This takes honesty and a level of openness that can feel intimidating, but it’s the best place to start when addressing any kind of issue with desire within your relationship. Who are you when you tap into your personal desires? How do you turn yourself on? And I don’t mean this in just a sexual way; I mean in an energetic, vibrant way – what brings you to life and ignites the fire in you? Is it creating, dancing, doing well at work, being in nature, being with certain people, or going to certain places? Tapping into some of these personal desires can help us better understand ourselves and how we relate to our partners.
While advocating for honesty with ourselves, we can’t overlook the need for honesty within our relationships. Communication, as they say, is key. The chances are if you feel like things have dipped off, then your partner is feeling it too, and the only way to get to the root of the issues is to nurture an open conversation. This is something that Rachel found helpful as she tried to deal with a lot of toxicity around her body and attitude toward sex; as she told me, “It’s been tough to reconcile a lot of negative messages I’ve received in the past about being too available, too sexual. I shut down this part of myself a few years ago after a traumatic experience. Now I’m in a relatively long-term relationship (three years), I’ve been trying to reconnect to a more authentic sexual side of myself so that it doesn’t affect my current relationship like it has in the past, but it’s difficult.” Rachel said that at the beginning of other relationships, she would rely on a more performative element of sex, that she’d use stereotypical moves in her sexual repertoire, but this would always feel fake and eventually affect the desire she experienced in her relationships as she never felt fully satisfied. Talking openly with her current partner has been key to addressing this issue, and the honest dialogue has led to a deeper understanding between them. However, it’s also worth noting that when it comes to sex and desire, an open dialogue with others can often be easier said than done. There is a lot of shame, inhibition and hesitation around admitting our deepest desires to another person, even if that person is your life partner who knows everything about you.
In life, everything is connected, and the wider issues we deal with in our day-to-day existence, such as work, family, physical and mental health or housing, can have a knock-on effect on how we experience desire and how we connect to our partners. The bigger issue that affected desire in Annie’s long-term relationship was money, “My partner had quite a lot of debt when we first got together that I didn’t find out about until we’d been together for 18 months. I helped her work out a plan to deal with it, but she’d end up spending the money she was supposed to be using to pay off the debt. I found it deeply unattractive.” Finally, with some outside help and plenty of patience, Annie’s partner got on top of her financial issues and seeing her thrive again brought the desire back into their relationship. This is something that Perel also talks about: seeing your partner in their element, doing something that they thrive in, can often help revive feelings of desire where they might have been lost.
So, yes, maintaining desire in long-term relationships is hard, but maybe it’s how we frame it. Rather than mourning or lamenting the loss of the nail-biting, gut-churning, mind-blowing desire you used to feel for one another 24/7, it’s about looking for the spaces where desire and yearning can be cultivated. Where you can explore your own desires and pleasure alongside your partners. After all, indulging in every passion we have is a reckless approach to life. Living life at a high-octane level isn’t sustainable; it’s the Hollywood version of what we think a relationship should be, but it isn’t genuine or healthy. Think about your most intense lustful relationship; I’d hazard a guess that at its height you couldn’t focus at work, and that your friendships and other relationships suffered because you were diving headlong into a pit of desire and lust. You simply can’t function like that on the regular.
That’s not to say we need to accept a life of no excitement, adventure and lust; it’s just that with a long-term relationship, these things are pulled into smaller pockets, and that’s OK. The thing to focus on is how you and your partner can nurture and honour your desire for each other in a way that makes sense for you both. Just as we’re all individuals with our own needs and wants, our relationships are unique to each of us, and what works for you might not work for another couple. So go forth, be gentle with yourself and your partner, find your own pleasure, love your body, talk to each other – and, most importantly, have fun.
— The agony and the ecstasy of an open relationship
And then there were three: ‘If we can both let each other go for an evening every now and then, the reunion feels so much sweeter.’
When Tom Rasmussen and their partner of seven years decided to have an open relationship, they knew it would be exciting and revitalising – but the danger of losing what they had was only too real
By Tom Rasmussen
My mother will kill me for writing this article. She doesn’t get why my partner and I would want to have sex with other people; why, God why, would we want to question a structure as sacred and, let’s face it, successful as monogamy? As she said, when I first mentioned I’d been on a date with someone who wasn’t my long-term partner, “Well, what if he finds someone better than you?” Brutal. Mothers really know how to find your deepest insecurity before wringing it – and you – out like a dishcloth.
She wasn’t wrong, though. What if he does find someone better than me? That was, admittedly, the first question I had when my partner and I decided to sleep with other people a year ago. Not only that, we decided it would be fine if we went on dates with other people, too: one, two, 10 – as long as we kept, as every pop psychologist whose bestseller I’ve never read will tell you, communication streams open.
The first date with someone else was mine. It was with an incredibly hot guy who I’d met at a fashion party, because I’m glamorous like that. He flirted so hard it was essentially impossible to say no. My partner and I discussed it: “Let’s just see what happens.”
Naturally I was nervous. The guy was hot. I was sweaty. It was the first date I’d been on in way over half a decade. What on earth do you talk about? I messaged a friend who is a very chic dater: “Just ask him his most problematic opinion… Honestly, it’s the best opener.” I wore black, because I always wear black, and I unbuttoned my shirt one lower than usual. I kissed my partner and my dog, Celine Dion, goodbye. And off I went.
The date was fun, the sex was wild – not better or worse, but invigorating in its difference. Kissing was, bizarrely, harder than anything else because a kiss with a stranger these days feels more intimate, and until then that intimacy had been reserved only for my partner.
When I arrived home that night after sleeping with the first person who wasn’t my boyfriend in seven years, I felt, simply, glad to climb into bed next to him. But also, perhaps, like I was beginning to undo three decades of conditioning towards monogamy. A monogamy which, until then, I’d held on to so tightly it was as likely to suffocate me, or my partner, as the worrisome potential of finding someone better.
See, the thing about our monogamous relationship was that the desire we had for others never went away. It was simply annexed in our brain, right there next to Catholicism and the bad exes. That’s not to say it was repressed. I don’t know a single person in a monogamous relationship who doesn’t flirt, have crushes, perhaps overstep the mark in someone’s DMs. A lot of people cheat, too. It’s been this way for aeons and it will be this way for aeons to come (or until the next pesky mass extinction event hits). And annexing this desire is perfectly fine, but when you simply ask the question, “But why?”, finding a solid answer becomes difficult.
The day after I’d consummated our open relationship, we packed a bag and drove to the countryside for a friend’s baby’s christening. The atmosphere in the car as we drove out of London was one of deep, icy tension. We could not seem to find the right song to narrate the moment, for the whole 90-minute trip, until I burst and said: “OK, we fucked!”
We decided there and then, on the A419 on the way to celebrate the choices of some dear friends who had done what they were supposed to do and moved to the countryside to raise their perfect child, that this open thing was a terrible idea.
My partner is the love of my life. Something – perhaps the only thing, except that blondes really do have more fun – I feel sure of. A climate crisis brings daily anxiety, the newspapers are littered with transphobia, the government goes beyond incompetence to arrive somewhere between casual cruelty and calculated fascism. And on days where it feels as if there is very little to live for, just looking at him still reminds me that there is something so good in the world. Something with meaning.
See I am, and always have been, a sucker for love, romance and utter dedication – a paradox with my ever-intensifying queer politic. For a long time, it was me who had a desperate stake in our monogamy. I am the kind of person who people describe as “so attractive” but, because of my hairy belly and flagrant femininity, it’s often followed by: “I’m always attracted to people over bodies.” Well, good for you. But for me, attraction has always found me in spite of my body, not because of it. And plainly put, my boyfriend has both: charm, vigour – and abs.
‘Like every gay from a small town, I believed I was Carrie Bradshaw’: Tom Rasmussen.
Now I don’t want to be shallow: I wouldn’t want to say that the only reason I clung tightly to monogamy was because I’m a six and he’s a nine. It’s also a Catholic upbringing, every bit of culture I’ve consumed, the fact I believed I was, like every gay from a small town, Carrie Bradshaw. And I was looking for “can’t-live-without-each-other-love”, because, really, I’d never felt like I’d really been properly loved before. By anyone. Romantic or not. And so, when I built futures in my head they were monogamous. It was all I had ever seen. And I had made love, commitment and true romance all synonymous with monogamy.
At the christening we barely spoke. On the outside we were still the perfect gay couple: cooing over the baby, congratulating our friends, telling jokes only marginally over the edge of inappropriate for a christening. And for that day, everything appeared blissfully normal. But normality can be suffocating. On the way home, in the car, we broke: “Oh my God that was so normal we can’t cope.” So we checked ourselves into a cheap hotel that night, halfway between London and the Cotswolds, got absolutely hammered and defined the rules of our new setup. And at that point, there were no rules. Just communication. And that we can stop whenever either of us wants.
The second person I had sex with approached me in a bar and described what he wanted to do to me. I’d never felt a turn-on like it. Not that I’m not turned on by my partner – because various types of desire, of turn-on, are not mutually exclusive. Desire, as I’m learning, exists on various planes, in various spaces. Herein lay a huge learning curve: in an open relationship, you begin to experience totally varied and different types of desire to the type of desire you feel in a monogamous setup. I’ve had fast sex, slow sex, hot sex, sex I regret. I’ve made love to a stranger and had feelingless sex with a good friend.
The more people we told, the more we were asked my mother’s fated question: “How do you know he won’t find someone better than you?” After pushing back, I realised this wasn’t my friends and my mother telling me I was shit and my partner could – and perhaps should – find another, better partner. It was that everyone worries about this, too, in their own relationships. We’re all terrified that we are phonies and that if someone else came along we would be exposed and left to become the Miss Havisham type we were always destined to be.
The truth is, I don’t know he won’t find someone better than me. But can you know that in a monogamous relationship either? No. In fact, the answer, after a year of making mistakes and communicating about them in ways we never did before, is that it’s liberating to accept that. It’s freeing to see the end, because in seeing the end you have a reason to keep choosing the relationship.
And to me it has become an absurd claim that it would be possible to find someone better than him. Because a partnership, a love, a life that took seven years to build cannot be torn apart by something as new and naive as lust and, at most, momentary love. They are different emotions. They both provide rich experience, but they are in no way comparable. If anything, my tendencies towards jealousy and self-doubt have simmered away somewhat – because here was our get-out clause. And we are still in.
“It’s easier for queer couples,” a heterosexual friend told me, after I told her. And I think, for countless reasons, this is true: like the fact the centre still sees our relationships as fringe; the fact that sex for a lot of queer people is a mode of finding community, touch and family; the fact that we were kept out of normative conventions of relationships until a brutally recent seven years ago. But, at the same time, there is still the same fear, the same worry, the same risk of loss. So easier feels like too easy a word. Perhaps more accepted.
Culturally, we always think about the rush of the new: those heady days when you meet your partner and every move they make drives you to distraction. Then we do the merry dance of less sex, less communication, less fun, more bills, more plans, more stress, until we die or someone leaves.
And, yes, with every new partner I’ve been lucky enough to have an experience with over this moment in our relationship, I’ve experienced the rush of the new. But the rush of the new spills over into my primary partnership, too: new dynamics form, each scenario brings with it something for us to negotiate, and our sex is more adventurous than ever: perhaps because we learned new moves elsewhere or perhaps because we have a reinvigorated sense of desire for each other knowing that someone, elsewhere, has found this body in front of you desirable in new ways, too.
Our open relationship wasn’t born out of a lack of sex. Don’t worry, we’ve had that phase and we really did consider going open. But we decided then that if we were ever to do it, it couldn’t come from a place of trying to cure a wound, or fill a gap. That’s when the primary partnership ends. In fact, we’d only recently talked about getting married and then we decided to try the idea that non-monogamy might be an even more immense, powerful commitment to each other than a ring and a register.
How could that be possible? How could sleeping with other people be more of a commitment than marriage? Because in sleeping with others you are allowing your partner a deeper expression of their desires. Marriage is fantastic in many ways, but it is also a means of state control – one which produces couples who care for each other, and children who will become workers. But in the case of openness, I am committing to the fullness of his desires and mine, and the risks that come with expressing them. Commitment is another word I had got wrong, too. I always equated it with sacrifice, but I’m coming to learn it means a willingness to understand the changes in a person, to understand their fullness.
Of course, there are hard parts. With certain aspects – silly insecurities, double standards, needing to know every detail – you have to take on the individual responsibility of self-management of (some of) your own emotions. You have to accept that sometimes you are going to feel strange things and that your partner cannot be responsible for curing them. Or even always listening to them if they are unfair and unfounded. I’d been on multiple dates with someone, and felt deep worry when he told me he was going on a second. This was a feeling I had to– with the help of generous friends – self-manage. And lo and behold, he came home after what he described as an “impossibly average” date.
Something I’ve come to learn, something necessary for the success of truly any relationship, is that love is not control. Monogamy, too, is not control – and this is not my accusation. Because whether monogamous, open, polyamorous, the terms of the relationship should be agreed upon by each person within it, mutually, and not simply put there because it’s what – literally – the Bible says. I have radical queer friends who adore monogamy. I’ve met viscerally dull couples who are radically polyamorous. There’s no rhyme or reason for who it fits.
But the point is that non-monogamy is actually about care. It’s about seeing your partner, and yourself, as someone separate to you who has desires, feelings, emotions that they want to, and should be able to, share with other people – not just you. For us, at least, it’s created a dynamic of tantalising flux: one where sometimes you feel lonely, sometimes you feel powerful, sometimes you feel more in love than ever. But in understanding these dynamics that whirl around inside, and between, us both it feels more likely than ever that neither of us will find a better partner. Because if we can learn with empathy, compassion and selflessness to understand each other in what is deemed such a testing situation; if we can both let each other go for an evening every now and then, the reunion feels so much sweeter. Because you come home to someone who is committing to work hard to see you, to make space in their complicated emotional life for yours. And vice versa. That feels like more commitment, more love, than anything I’ve experienced before.
Sarah Brylinsky, a 34-year-old working in higher education in Ithaca, N.Y., is legally married to 36-year-old farm manager Brandon Brylinsky. Two years ago, on a camping trip a decade into their relationship, they met 35-year-old Matte Namer, the founder of a real estate firm.
The Brylinskys and Namer are polyamorous, which means they are open to romantic relationships with more than one person at a time. After meeting two years ago, they started going on dates together, and soon after, Namer moved in with the Brylinskys. Now, the three plan to have a child, and they want to make their relationship official so that they can be recognized by their community as a family.
But how do you make a relationship official when there are three people in it?
Polyamory is a form of consensual non-monogamy — when people have more than one sexual or romantic partner at once with all partners’ permission. A 2021 study in Frontiers in Psychologyfound that one in nine single American adults had engaged in polyamory.
In legal terms, polyamorous people are unable to marry all their of partners: It is illegal throughout the United States to marry more than one person at a time. Somerville, Mass., is thought to be the first U.S. city to legally recognize polyamorous domestic partnerships, which it started doing in 2020.
However, people like Namer and the Brylinskys are utilizing an option that symbolically, though not legally, binds all three of them: a commitment ceremony.
Commitment ceremonies are events that celebrate any number of people’s commitment to one another, and they can look many different ways, according to Connecticut-based marriage and family therapist Kristen C. Dew.
She’s seen some that “resemble the typical monogamous couples’ weddings,” she said, while others are parties or outdoor gatherings. She also said that “many opt for handfasting ceremonies,” or choose unique items as symbols of their love.
The ceremony that Namer and the Brylinskys are planning will be similar to a wedding. They’re discarding some traditions: They’ll have a cookie table instead of a cake, for example. But they will all make vows to one another. In addition, the Brylinskys will create a joint vow just for Namer, and vice versa, they said.
“We met Matte as a couple; there was a relationship that came before them, and it’s both important to establish that we made a family together and to acknowledge that we transitioned our existing relationship to make room for that,” Sarah said.
Ambyr D’Amato, a wedding planner based in New York, is helping to plan this ceremony. She said she has worked with several other polyamorous people on commitment ceremonies: In one of them, a couple that was already married waited at the end of the aisle, and the third person walked down the aisle to symbolically join them.
“It was important to [the third person], since they were not legally married to anybody, that they had a ceremony where they could involve their family and have things be more in the open,” D’Amato said. The event took place in Central Park, she added, replete with flowers, champagne, oysters and live music.
Another commitment ceremony D’Amato planned was between two people who were both legally married to other people, and each person’s partner was present to give their blessing. Afterward, they threw a dance party with their family and friends.
“I like that I can provide access to a heart-opening and connected time for people,” D’Amato said. “I also like that I can help them think outside of the box: You can do whatever you want. Nothing has to look a certain way.”
Many people are embracing the notion that their relationship doesn’t have to be celebrated with a traditional wedding, and opting for commitment ceremonies instead — even those whose relationships only involve two people.
Rachael, a 37-year-old writer, and Tom, a 36-year-old tech adviser — both based in Santa Barbara, Calif. — were legally married for financial and logistical reasons in 2015, but they publicly became each other’s spouses during a commitment ceremony on the lawn of the Santa Barbara courthouse six months earlier.
“We felt it was a better fit for us, being pretty nontraditional in many ways,” Rachael said. “We wanted to be very intentional about how we celebrated our commitment.”
Rachael and Tom, who spoke on the condition that only their first names be used, said they are non-monogamous and are open to committing themselves to an additional partner. Part of the reason they joined through a commitment ceremony is so that, if they do decide to hold another one with a third person, all three of them will be on the same footing, they said.
And as a genderqueer, pansexual person holding this ceremony in 2015 — before same-sex marriage was legal throughout the U.S. — Rachael wanted to stand in solidarity with queer people who couldn’t legally marry their partners, Rachael said.
To reflect the nontraditional nature of their relationship, Rachael wore blue, and instead of the gendered roles of bridesmaids and groomsmen, they designated a group they called “their people” to walk down the aisle one by one.
Jessica Fern, a Boulder-based psychotherapist who works with polyamorous people, touted the potential benefits of ceremonies like this.
“When someone experiences legal marginalization for their relationship structure or style, commitment ceremonies can go a long way to deepen a relationship, publicly acknowledge its significance, and even assuage some of the pain and injustice that being a minority can create,” she said.
Fern’s clients who have undergone commitment ceremonies have reported feeling more secure in their relationships as a result, she said: “They have more of a structure that they can rely on that’s bigger than just them. They can lean on each other in hard times, like, ‘I made this commitment.’ ”
But many non-monogamous people say they don’t feel safe holding an event as public as a commitment ceremony, because of existing stigma. And while those in polyamorous relationships can work with lawyers to secure certain legal protections (Namer and the Brylinskys are working with the Chosen Family Law Center to ensure they all have equal status as parents of their future child), a commitment ceremony does not confer the same rights as a legal wedding.
Some non-monogamous people hope that this will change in the future. “We have the right to be with our loved ones and share the resources that we would normally get to share in a monogamous context,” Fern said.
Still, Fern thinks anyone wanting to make an official commitment to a partner can learn from non-monogamous commitment ceremonies.
“There are so many traditions that we do in monogamous weddings, and we’re like, why do we do this?” she said. “Why do you throw the bouquet? … Why is the father giving the bride away? As people are questioning [these norms], they’re able to have even their own monogamous wedding that feels aligned with them and their values and their relationship.”
Jemima Kirke, Sasha Lane, Alison Oliver, and Joe Alwyn in the TV adaptation of Conversations with Friends.
“Is it possible we could develop an alternative model of loving each other?” This is the question posed by the character Bobbi in Sally Rooney’s debut novel Conversations with Friends, and is a core tenet of the story. Spoken by a 21-year-old, are these words merely youthful idealism?
Conversations with Friends follows university students Bobbi and Frances, whose lives become entangled with those of a wealthy couple in their 30s, Melissa and Nick. Similar to Rooney’s Normal People, it’s set in Dublin but rather than an intense love story, Conversations with Friends depicts monogamy (and the prospect of marriage) as rather bleak. Melissa and Nick sleep in separate beds and have both had affairs. The affair Nick has with Frances, the core plot line, seems to reinvigorate their marriage and they return to monogamous life. The farce is that the success of their “monogamous” relationship hinges precisely on the relationships that exist outside of it.
Now, the novel has been adapted for television as a limited series on Amazon Prime, starring Alison Oliver, Sasha Lane, Jemima Kirke, and Joe Alwyn.
In an interview with The Telegraph London, Kirke spoke of the cognitive shift the role required her to make. “It’s remarkable that someone of that age [Rooney] has so much discipline and focus, but as I was finally reading the book, I was thinking, ‘This is marriage written from the perspective of a 22-year-old.’ I don’t think that’s good or bad. Her writing is beautiful but there were moments when I struggled to make something work.”
Kirke, 37, is no stranger to married life and its potential to fail after splitting with her husband of eight years in 2017. And while she’s not opposed to marriage, she does take a more carefree approach to it. “The perspective of marriage as something super-permanent and spiritual is really antiquated.”
Jennifer Pinkerton spoke to more than 100 Australians aged under 40 for her book Heartland: What is the future of modern love? She says that the decline in people getting married is not a phenomenon that’s just relegated to Millennials and Gen Z. “Globally, marriage has been a downward travelling trend for 50 years now. When we speak about fewer people getting married, it’s not just the younger generations.” (The only exception to this, she notes, is gay marriage).
Certainly, however, this downward trend has accelerated in the past decade. In 2020, 78,989 marriages were registered in Australia, a 30.6 per cent decrease from 2019, and the largest annual drop ever reported by the ABS since 1961. Obviously COVID-19 has played a role but there are other key trends too. Pinkerton suggests that a high divorce rate means young people, seeing their parents getting divorced, have grown disillusioned with marriage. Global instability is another big one. “Climate change and war mean that the future is less certain,” says Georgia Grace, a Sydney-based sex and relationship therapist. She adds that the sex positive movement means that acceptance for different relationship models is changing.
Nina Lee, 32, is part of this declining group. A Sydney-based hairdresser and owner of Extra Silky, she married her long-term partner Aedan Lee during lockdown last year. While the couple isn’t religious and didn’t face familial pressure, marrying was just something they both knew would happen. “It felt like a natural progression”, she says, adding that it was about “solidifying our love.”
Alice, 22 (who is using a pseudonym for privacy reasons) lives in Sydney, and has been in a monogamous relationship for three-and-a-half years. Both are bisexual, and her partner identifies as non-binary. “Love is a choice to be together”, she says. “I can’t imagine anything less romantic than having a legal document officiate my relationship.”
For Millennials, there can be certain dealbreakers in finding love. Harriet, 34, has never wanted children. “Even when I was a little girl, I never played house with dolls – if anything I would play ‘dog mummy and daddy’.” Harriet’s last serious relationship ended after seven years. In her early 20s, the question of kids wasn’t such a concern. Now, it can make dating a little more complicated. “I make sure to talk kids and politics on the first or second date.”
Are rigid constraints of marriage a thing of the past? “Younger generations are now more likely to crave fulfillment, connection and flexibility rather than permanence in relationships,” says Pinkerton.
Polyamory, then, is a natural result of this shift in values. Georgia Grace says that she is increasingly working with people interested in exploring this. While popular perception of polyamory is that it’s just about promiscuity, there’s no singular model for what it can look like. “I work with couples to create a relationship structure that works for them,” she says. “Non-violent communication, consent and having a network of supportive, sex positive friends and family are at its core.”
In Melbourne, Emil, 29, works supporting people living with HIV, and is also a sex worker. They document encounters with clients and lovers on Instagram, posting polaroids of men alongside captions about the intimacy of the meeting.
The overwhelming majority of clients are straight men. Their reasons for visiting are myriad – for many, it’s a means to be a version of themselves outside of monogamous, heterosexual love, for others it’s a way of indulging a fetish or sheer curiosity. One quote accompanies an Instagram story picturing a man’s chest: “I hope you understand how hard this is for me. I always have my religion at the back of my head.”
In monogamous relationships, a range of intimate interactions with other people could be considered cheating.
This can lead to confusion about ethically non-monogamous relationships, where someone has multiple partners but isn’t cheating.
According to a therapist, cheating isn’t black-and-white, but defined by an agreement partners make.
People in monogamous relationships can’t seem to agree on what “cheating” entails: A kiss with a stranger? A drunken one-night stand? Exchanging flirty texts with a colleague?
But for people in ethically non-monogamous relationships, there’s a clear line between faithfulness and infidelity, and it has nothing to do with whether or not other parties are involved.
It all comes down to breaching a partner’s trust, Rachel Wright, a sex and relationship therapist who is also in a non-monogamous relationship, told Insider. (Wright uses the term “non-monogamy” without the modifier “ethical” because it suggests relationship setups outside of monogamy are inherently unethical, which isn’t the case, she said.)
“Cheating is cheating, because cheating is going against an agreement,” Wright said.
She said there’s no specific sex acts that make up “cheating.” Rather, it’s what partners agree to uphold together.
That means people in any relationship dynamic, whether non-monogamous or monogamous, can cheat on their partners. In both relationship styles, cheating is characterized by a lack of communication and breaking of trust, according to Wright.
Define ‘cheating’ with your partner using as much detail as possible
Society teaches us to avoid conversations about relationships and sex, but getting into the nitty gritty can help you better understand the difference between cheating and non-monogamy, Wright said.
“There are all of these gray areas because we’re humans,” she said, so having an honest and in-depth discussion about what feels good for you and your partner is the best way to define “cheating.”
“They just assume that everyone’s having the same experience, and there’s some relationship rule book that everybody’s going by. We all know, logically, that’s not true,” Wright said.
People in non-monogamous arrangements have more options for their sexual and romantic lives than people in monogamous relationships, which means they over-communicate their expectations and boundaries often.
She gave the example of two people in a polyamorous relationship. They may agree to date outside of their primary relationship, but also set a rule that they don’t invite their prospective partners back to their shared home. If one partner broke that rule, that would be cheating, Wright said.
But if that partner had sex with an outside partner somewhere other than their home, it wouldn’t be cheating.
“Really, the biggest difference is that someone is not ‘in the know.’ Someone is being blindsided,” Wright said.
When a person feels jealous, it often signals insecurity, Chapman University psychology professor and relationships researcher Amy Moors previously told Insider.
Rather than create relationship rules that prevent jealousy, it’s healthier to understand how you can care for yourself when that emotion comes up, Wright said.
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