“I desperately want to have sex with men who aren’t my boyfriend,” is a text I sent my best friend four years ago. “I think I really need to be in an open relationship.”
This revelation didn’t come as any huge surprise to either of us. I’d had my misgivings about the relationship—especially the monogamous part of it—from the beginning. I’d been happily single for four years when I met my then-boyfriend, casually dating away my early 20s with various men, minimal commitment, and little desire to change that situation. I wasn’t sure if I identified as non-monogamous, per se—but I did suspect that if I ever were looking for a relationship, it probably wouldn’t be a monogamous one.
And yet, within two months of the kind of whirlwind courtship that I might now call textbook love-bombing had that term not been TikToked to death, I somehow found myself locked into a monogamous relationship with a man who was dead set on keeping it that way. That didn’t stop me from bringing up the idea of non-monogamy, however—something I did multiple times to predictably negative results. In the meantime, while I tried to talk my boyfriend into an open relationship, I tried to talk myself into believing maybe monogamy was the right fit for me after all.
I’ve been thinking about this recently in light of the discourse surrounding Lindy West’s new memoir, Adult Braces. In the book, West details how she came to embrace an open marriage after her devoutly non-monogamous husband began a relationship with another woman. By the end, all three parties are in a supposedly happy polyamorous partnership—but the internet’s response suggests many readers remain unconvinced by West’s happily-ever-after ending. Much of the Adult Braces discourse that’s reached a fever pitch online in recent weeks centers on the belief that West seems to have been coerced into an open marriage by a husband she should have simply divorced. In other words: This polyamorous throuple could’ve been a breakup.
As the partner pushing for non-monogamy in my own former relationship, I was ostensibly in the opposite position from the one in which this narrative envisions West. But as a woman who tried to convince myself I was happy in a relationship I’d gone along with to please a man, I know a thing or two about deluding yourself into believing you had agency in choices that were made for you.
Ultimately, it’s not my place to doubt West at her own published word, nor to presume I know better than she does re: her own marriage. What I do know, however, is that the relationship I once thought I wanted to open was one that very much should’ve ended instead. Fortunately, it did.
Just under a year into that monogamous union I couldn’t quite remember agreeing to, I found I’d officially maxed out my capacity for one-man-womanhood. I’d missed the idea of fucking other people from the beginning, sure. But now, suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, I missed the actual fucking other people of fucking other people. It was everyone at once and no one in particular—hot strangers on the train and un-hot ones who hit on me in bars and the shocking number of old flames I started randomly running into on the street and in my DMs like some kind of sign from the universe that it was time to return to myself.
And so, one night over wine and sushi in a booth at one of our favorite restaurants, I asked my ex for an open relationship. Surprisingly enough, he agreed.
Two weeks later, we were broken up and I was relieved. When that relief continued to trump heartbreak in the weeks of post-breakup recovery that followed, I was forced to confront an uncomfortable truth, one I knew I’d been hiding from for a while: I didn’t actually want an open relationship—not now, anyway. Not with him. What I wanted was to be single. Non-monogamy was never going to fix the problems in my relationship because the main problem in my relationship was that I didn’t want to be in it.
In theory, an open relationship seemed like the perfect solution, the ideal way to hold onto all the benefits of monogamy while satisfying my need for sexual novelty. But what I missed more than the physical act of sex with other people, what I wanted more than even the very best parts of my relationship, was the absolute freedom of doing what I wanted when I wanted and answering to no one. An open relationship was never going to give me that. It was only ever going to be a Band-Aid that might temporarily mask and ultimately exacerbate the real issue at hand: I didn’t want to be in my relationship anymore. Not enough, anyway. Not more than I wanted to be single.
I suspect I’m not the only person who has made this kind of mistake. In a society that views sexual fidelity as a core tenet of a successful relationship and sexual infidelity as perhaps the greatest offense you can commit against one, ethical non-monogamy may seem like the antidote to one of the biggest threats a couple can face.
“Many, many people fantasize about or desire sex with others besides their current partner,” says relationship coach Elisabeth “Eli” Sheff, PhD. It makes sense that many partnered people who experience a desire for sex outside their relationship might look to non-monogamy as the answer—in part because it absolutely can be.
“Opening up to other sexual partners is a good alternative for couples who are relatively happy in their relationship overall, and for whom the major reason for dissatisfaction comes from the monogamous nature of the relationship itself,” says sex therapist Zhana Vrangalova, PhD, NYU professor of Human Sexuality,
But non-monogamy isn’t a panacea for any and all relationship ills. If anything, removing the black and white betrayal of infidelity from the equation will likely only bring other underlying issues into sharper focus. Which is to say, opening a failing relationship is unlikely to go well. It’s basically the progressive version of having a baby to save the marriage.
“If partners are happy with each other and want to explore sexually or expand their horizons, then an open relationship can work and even enliven an existing sexual connection,” says Sheff. “This breaks down, however, when people are either unhappy with each other or not getting their needs met in their romantic relationship. All of those unresolved issues will come out in full force with the added stress of trying to balance multiple partners’ needs.”
As I learned firsthand, however, it’s harder than it sounds to tell whether opening up is actually a healthy move that will strengthen your relationship or a Band-Aid you’re slapping over issues you’d rather ignore. How do you know if you’re opening up for the right reasons or just prolonging an inevitable breakup?
Surprise—there’s no magic formula, no blood test you and your partner can take to confirm that you are, in fact, open relationship material. That said, there are some ways you can figure out whether opening up or breaking up is the right move.
Should You Open Your Relationship? 3 Things to Consider Before Trying Non-Monogamy
Opening a relationship can’t fix one that’s already doomed, but that doesn’t mean trying non-monogamy is never the right move for a couple. Here are three tips from relationship experts to help you figure out whether you’re opening up for the right reasons.
Check the Overall Health of Your Relationship
“Opening up is not a good option for couples who are struggling for reasons unrelated to monogamy,” says Vrangalova. If, for example, your relationship is suffering from a lack of love or trust, poor communication and conflict resolution skills, resentment, abusive or manipulative behaviors, incompatible life goals, etc., then opening the relationship is unlikely to help anything.
“Some couples resort to opening up in order to fix these monogamy–unrelated issues, and that almost always ends up precipitating a breakup anyway,” says Vrangalova. “Only it often ends up being an uglier breakup because it’s been made more complicated by introducing additional people and all of the difficult emotions that come with it.”
To help break down the massive question that is, Is my relationship actually working? Vrangalova suggests identifying your top relationship needs, then ranking your current level of satisfaction in each of those areas on a scale of one to five.
“If there are many more ones to threes than there are fours and fives, then that’s a good indicator your relationship is in trouble and that opening up is unlikely to fix that,” says Vrangalova.
Ask Yourself If There Are Other Ways to Address the Problems in Your Relationship
Even if you’ve determined that your relationship is otherwise healthy and the primary factor driving your interest in opening up is a desire for sexual novelty, it may be worth exploring other ways to address those needs without opening the relationship.
“One of the biggest risks couples take is jumping into non-monogamy quickly, without giving themselves and each other enough time to be curious about their motives or the process of opening up their relationship,” says psychologist and sex therapist Kate Balestrieri, PsyD.
Opening up or breaking up isn’t a decision you have to (or should, for that matter) make overnight, and they’re also not the only options.
“There are many couples for whom opening up might be a good solution eventually, but who may not be ready to introduce other people into the mix yet,” says Vrangalova. “In that case, they could still increase their level of sexual satisfaction by communicating with each other about their sexual fantasies and incorporating some of them into their sex lives.”
Consider the Pros and Cons
Vrangalova recommends asking whether the benefits of opening up outweigh the potential risks and challenges. This is the time to get real—with yourself and your partner—about what those risks and challenges might be, how you plan to address them, and whether you’re actually willing to take them on.
“If it feels like there would be other perils that would make the relationship more difficult than rewarding, it may be time to part ways,” says Balestrieri. “Opening the relationship may either expedite or prolong the inevitable.”
