Open: Love, Sex and Life in an Open Marriage (25 page)

is ongoing. But at this point in my journey, what strikes me as most intriguing is the fact that I knew, from very early on, that traditional marriage wasn’t compatible with me. I was always interested in “and,” rather than “either/ or,” and I was never sure that love offered any guarantees. And yet I dove headfirst into marriage. Why? I thought that being committed and doing the thing I was supposed to do would help me come to my senses, but even early on in

my marriage, I realized that love is a state, and a constantly fluctuating one at that. It is affected by changes in ourselves, our partners, and the world at large. So when the black-and- white options we’re presented with look like a huge splotch of gray, what are we to do? We must understand and accept that we don’t have to live within the confines and rules that society presents for us as “the only way.” We have a right to find our own happiness and our own truth.

Love and sex, much to the discontentment of so many who believe in happily ever after, are not constant companions. And those who believe they are will likely run into disappointment somewhere along the way. It’s an ideal that sets us up for all kinds of falls. Most of us have had a number of partners by the time we get to that point, and any of those people may have offered qualities that we sought or wanted in a significant other. Yet suddenly there we are, bound to one person for the rest of our lives. Part of being sexually free prior to marriage, assuming that we aren’t saving ourselves for The One, involves going through a period of sexual exploration and, if you’re lucky, sexual enlightenment. All of which, again, is considered valid, even good, by modern standards.

Young women today are generally encouraged to explore, to find themselves, to be sexually open, but then are expected to somehow simply shut down as individuals when they get married and “settle down.” But they don’t
actually, naturally
shut down. They simply have an enforced response

because of social conditioning, which demands that we stop being people and start being wives. And so one-night stands and casual sex are socially acceptable at certain points in our lives—college, certainly, and afterwards, as long as we’re not married—and then, all of a sudden, sex isn’t “just sex” anymore once two people commit to each other. As a result, we are left with an entire society of people trying to conform to an extremely recent social dictate. Truth be told, it’s amazing that we aren’t failing even more than we already are.

When I tell people I’m in an open relationship, they often ask, “Then why are you even married?” My response: “Why wouldn’t we be?” Christopher and I are a good match. Our personalities balance each other out, and we’re great coparents. What I’ve come to realize is that this question stems from a belief, albeit subconscious for many people, that marriage is about sexual ownership. So for those who want further explanation, I sometimes offer this: “We’re still married because we believe in traditional marriage based on trust and commitment, not on fireworks or romantic love or sex. We base our other relationships on romance and sex, and our primary one on a much bigger, more long-term picture.”

Some people want to know why, given the fact that I’ve striven to be in an open marriage and have made lots of sacrifices to do so, I have chosen Jemma as my sole partner outside of my marriage. That answer is more complex. I’ve explained much of it throughout this book—I had had my

fill of more casual sexual liaisons; I wanted to be with a woman; I wanted to be with someone whom I really was interested in and cared for; and I wanted something that involved a sense of longevity and commitment.

But when it comes down to it, I can’t say whether I’d be with Jemma if I were dating her with the end goal of marriage in mind. She’s not sure she wants to live in a household with children, for one. She’s younger than I am, and perhaps she’ll want to date more people before she decides to settle down—that is, if she decides to settle down at all. She might want to be with someone closer to her age, or a man. And then there are more pragmatic issues: I’m not sure managing a household together would work.

While these might all be reasons not to marry her, or even make a long-term commitment to her, none of them are reasons for not loving her or sleeping with her. So, while I’ve made it abundantly clear that I don’t believe in monogamy, I do believe in committed nonmonogamous relationships. I do believe in responsible nonmonogamy. I do believe that we are intelligent creatures, intelligent enough to have relationships that differ from the modern marriage model. If people can decide to be monogamous, so too can they choose to keep their jealousy and egos in check, and not allow nonmonogamy to turn into promiscuity.

I encourage everyone to set aside all this defining for a moment and simply love a little more. Stretch a bit. Maybe for you, this isn’t about finding love outside your marriage.

Maybe it’s about sex, or maybe it’s the reverse. Or, hell, if your marriage is working for you as is, then maybe open marriage isn’t about you in any way at all. But it is—because even though open marriage may not interest you for your own relationship, it does interest others. And my hope is that anyone reading this book will accept those of us for whom finding love beyond our marriages is rewarding. On the other hand, if you
have
found yourself reflected in this book’s stories and ideas, consider not beating yourself up. Perhaps you’re surprised to discover that this book has affected you in complicated and far-reaching ways, or in ways that feel, quite frankly, like a long-awaited relief.

Just know that being open is about love. And there should never be any restrictions on love. Open marriage stems from a number of different scenarios and relationship dynamics. It can be about anything, take any shape, as long as the people involved are all on the same page. There is no wrong way to do this, other than lying to yourself and your partners, in which case you’re no longer talking about being open—and society has all kinds of “acceptable” ways of dealing with that.

I don’t think people should ever have to be ashamed of whom and how they love. I can think of plenty of things that are shameful: being cruel to animals, or intentionally hurting someone, or stealing something. But love shouldn’t ever be one of these things. I love the man who stands by me always, the man who is the father of my child. And I love

the woman who provides me with the kind of emotional support and sexual satisfaction that I don’t believe any man or any traditional marriage could give me. What if the problem is not with wanting what we want, but rather with the way we are made to feel for wanting it?

i’d like to see open marriages be as

accepted as closed ones. I’d like to see the term used to refer to a type of relationship that is one of any number of other choices. I’d like “open marriage” to be a commonly used, commonly acknowledged description of a healthy lifestyle, rather than a reference to something that is somehow deviant, perverse, or even unusual. I want people to acknowledge the fact that open marriage represents the state some marriages already exist in (the difference being that adultery means sex with lying, cheating, and sneaking around, while open marriage means sex with all of your cards in view). I personally prefer to know the cards I’m dealing with.

My truth is this: My husband and I got married because we loved and respected each other. We were both looking for the security and stability a marriage provides. We had complementary interests and abilities. We wanted the same things, and each of us had what the other needed to make those things possible. There were sparks at the beginning, of course. We never would have gotten together in the first place if there hadn’t been. But once the thrill of early sex

faded, I started to feel like a failure. However, I shouldn’t have. We had accomplished exactly what we had set out to: We had a house and a child and careers, and we enjoyed each other. So when I sensed a hole because I was lacking passion and fiery sex and desire, I had to realign my thinking. I had to find what was missing and incorporate that into a new version of the marriage I was in, rather than simply expect it to magically come from the partner I had chosen to spend my life with.

And I found what I was looking for—first with a series of male lovers, and now with a committed girlfriend. So I’m married, and I’m honest, and I’m doing what I need to do to create a space in which Christopher and I can continue growing together in our relationship. And our partnership is one that’s rooted soundly in the historical tradition of marriage, one founded on building and living a life together, and not solely on the fleeting state of romance. The only difference is that my husband and I reject the suggestion that commitment to each other means signing over our bodies and our hearts. We share those things—with each other and with those whom we bring into our lives. Marriage should not be a prison. It should be a home base from which we can reach out to find those people and those things that can complete us—and our lives.

don’t feel sorry for me or my husband.

Please. We don’t have a marriage that’s lacking; we have it

all. My only regret is not having entered into our marriage with the intention of having this lifestyle from the very beginning. It would have made our current situation easier, since the transition wasn’t—and still isn’t—a breeze. But it’s clear to me how much sense this makes for us, and how little sense it makes to have a one-size-fits-all guideline regarding marriage.

If you do find the combination of factors that allows you to have a great, long-lasting monogamous relationship, good on you. But you’re the exception, not the rule. And if you relate to any of the issues that were pulling at me, or have questions about the state of your relationship, don’t for one second consider yourself or your marriage a failure. This entire discussion is about looking at marriage—and love and sex, for that matter—in a different way. Some people will reach out to find sex; others, love; still others, both. No matter what someone is looking for, though, conducting that search within the safe and honest realm of an open marriage means that it can be a happy quest and a joyful finding, instead of a guilt-laden path of deception and fear.

My marriage with Christopher and my relationship with Jemma are anything but mutually exclusive. They are perfect together. Perfect. He is my rock and she is my sky. Never would we presume earth and air could fulfill our lives’ differing needs in identical ways, and never would we expect to be able to live without one or the other. The same

should be true of the people in our lives: Different people fulfill different wants and needs. It’s not that complicated.

I’m fearful of where we might end up if we don’t open ourselves up. People aren’t going to stop having affairs. Gays and lesbians aren’t going to become heterosexual. Couples will continue to split up. People will continue to seek out alternative paths, particularly in the aftermath of relationships that have left them stifled and unhappy. What do we want our world to look like? Do we want it dictated by fear and lack of understanding, or do we want it run with experiential wisdom and respect for the truth? Are we willing to open our eyes and open our lives and begin to proactively define for ourselves our personal visions for the future? I already have, and happily ever after has never looked so good.

christopher’s afterword

readers of this book will undoubtedly

form an opinion of me, ranging from flattering to downright contemptuous. I also envision another camp that suspects this story is fiction, and that I do not in fact exist at all. My purpose with this letter is not to influence these preformed opinions, but rather to provide a voice of support for Jenny. I admire the audacity and courage my wife has shown in opening up her most intimate feelings and desires to complete strangers. I want to thank her for respecting my feelings by making our experiences, rather than me, the focal point of her book.

Our relationship—that is, our marriage—has been an evolution, and I must admit that we have sailed into waters

251

that I did not imagine when we exchanged vows ten years ago. That does not mean that I love Jenny any less today than I did those many years ago. In fact, it sounds cliché, but it’s true nonetheless: My love for her has grown exponentially in this time. The path we have taken is not for everybody, and we do not intend to be role models for alternative lifestyles. I believe our marriage is unique, as is everyone else’s. A marriage is a bond between two individuals. When it’s successful, each person plays an equal and instrumental part in creating something that neither could even aspire to on their own. What we have is ours, something that we have created together. Our journey is not done by a long shot, for we still have much to learn and experience together. I am blessed to have found a life partner who is sexy, beautiful, loving, and intelligent. She is every bit my equal, as I am hers. If the next chapter of our marriage is half as thrilling and adventuresome as the first, then I will be a happy and contented man.

Respectfully, Christopher

notes

Chapter 1. What’s a Girl to Do?

1. Jessica Valenti,
   Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman’s Guide to Why Feminism Matters
   (Emeryville, CA: Seal Press, 2007), 49.
   

2. Laura Kipnis,
   Against Love: A Polemic
   (New York: Vintage Books, 2003), 11.
   

3. Glamour,
   “What’s Sexy, What’s Scary in Bed,” September 2007, 222.
   

4. Laura Sessions Stepp, “Cupid’s Broken Arrow,”
   Washington Post,
   

   May 7, 2006, D01.
   

5. Sharon Jayson, “Married Women Unite! Husbands Do Less Housework,”
   USA Today,
   August 29, 2007, 7D.
   

6. Stephanie Coontz,
   Marriage, A History: How Love Conquered Marriage
   

(New York: Penguin Books, 2005), 311.

253

Chapter 2. My Orgasm, My Self