Open: Love, Sex and Life in an Open Marriage (6 page)

fully aware of it, but I was also becoming more and more aware of the plethora of contradictions within which we must inevitably live if we are to follow the social mores of our day. I knew of the perils of the roles, and yet I stepped in headlong just the same. Like a wearied follower of Jim Jones, I felt compelled to drink the Kool-Aid. The human brain can withstand only so much of even the most obvious and counterintuitive brainwashing.

Faludi continues, “Meanwhile, the bad spinsters clutched their barren wombs and circuited miserably around the happy Steadman household.”
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Even the image the family’s last name invokes—that of a steady man—was chosen to imply the safety and security that any woman should want. And that was what I was seeking, along with every other woman I knew.

When I broke up with Clark years later, the last thing he said to me was, “If you see Hope, tell her I miss her.” It was creepy, but the turns my relationship with Clark took proved important in my long, meandering journey toward understanding what would ultimately make me happy in a partnership. After we had dated for a few years (classic boyfriend/girlfriend stuff, with lots of going out and plenty of sleeping over at each other’s apartment without ever living together), Clark headed off to architecture school in another state. After he had been away for a few months, I told him that I wanted the freedom to see other people, and he obliged.

I dated a few guys. Mostly, though, I just had flings: some one-night stands and a couple more sustained relationships— friendships with benefits, I suppose. It wasn’t that I was really looking for someone else to love. I loved Clark. But I saw him only once a month and I missed having sex. Looking back, I realize that was really my first stab at the open-relationship thing. It wasn’t exactly “cheating” (I had his permission and all), but it certainly did not have the hallmarks of a healthy open relationship—the honesty and communication. It was more of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” thing, and because of that, I never felt 100 percent okay about it. Since Clark didn’t want to discuss our arrangement, I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was truly comfortable with it.

For a while, I balanced my relationship with Clark with my outside flings. I still felt like I wanted—or at least should want—to be with Clark and have a more traditional relationship, because that’s what I expected of myself, for myself. Little did I know then how young our American idea of a “traditional” relationship actually is. As it turns out, Graff reports, “the nuclear family has so recently become the standard household unit that U.S. demographers can’t accurately track it before 1940.”
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Amazing how a convention so young can rule an entire society with such unrelenting force.

What came before that? Simply put, anything and everything: extended families; families with a plethora of stepchildren; children placed in the homes of their future

in-laws; boarders, lodgers, servants, and anyone else living under one roof; children living in homes where they were more employees than kids; children of the wealthy living with wet nurses or other caretakers.
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Depending on their wealth, status, and trade, couples and families lived in any number of permutations that might be called families, because “families” meant people who lived together. The definition had nothing—nothing—to do with love. Children then were not considered as precious as they are now. Economics dictated marriage and living arrangements. Nothing more and nothing less. Therefore, to stress the importance and history of a man and a woman’s falling in love and living together and having children they dote on is nothing short of newfangled. Yet the idea of the nuclear family as the cornerstone of human existence seems to be common knowledge.

I was lucky, I believe, to have had this early opportunity to have an open, albeit not ideal, relationship. It allowed me to sample different experiences while still having the steady and secure relationship I craved. I knew I wanted both; I just didn’t know then that I could
have
both. One night, when Clark was away, I decided to test something out. I had heard male friends talking about how they wished girls could just enjoy sex and not be all hung up about whether the guy would call the next day, or whether going home with someone meant a girl was a slut. The guys also said they probably couldn’t trust a girl to actually do

what they wished she would, because it would probably mean she had ulterior motives, like wanting to trick them into a relationship or accuse them later of treating her like a whore.

I had long noticed that I thought about sex differently than a lot of my close girlfriends did; my attitudes about it seemed more closely aligned with those of my guy friends. And because of where I was in my relationship with Clark, when I heard those guys talking, I figured my chance was now or never—I wanted to see what it would feel like to really sit in the driver’s seat, to approach sex with what most people might define as a male sensibility.

And so, at a dinner party at my friend Cecile’s house, when I found myself sitting across from a very cute guy, it suddenly occurred to me to do something most women weren’t supposed to do. We had talked and flirted all evening, and it seemed obvious to me where things could go if one of us were to make a move.

I mouthed across the table to him, “Let’s go back to my place.”

“What?” he mouthed back.

“Christian and I are going out to buy some chocolate,” I announced to our mutual friends at the table. “I cannot drink coffee without chocolate.”

“You are a true pain in the ass,” Cecile said.

“Thank you very much,” I said to her. “Let’s go,” I said, looking back at him.

As soon as we got in the car, he turned to me and said, “Chocolate?”

“No,” I replied. “Sex.”

“Excuse me?” he said, gasping more than speaking.

“Chocolate I can do without right now, but sex with you I cannot. I thought we’d go by my house, get to it, and head back to the party. They’re so drunk, they won’t even miss us.”

“But . . . ”

“I know you live in California. I know you’re not looking for a girlfriend. I know you’re a nice guy, and you respect that I’m a nice girl. Blah, blah, blah. Look, some girls just want to get laid, too. It’s sex, not rocket science.”

We got back to Cecile’s two fun, satisfying hours later. We pulled up to the side of the house and I parked the car.

“You’re amazing,” he said as he unbuckled his seat belt. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“I had such a good time. And it seems like you had such a good time, too.”

“I did.”

“And neither of us is the worse for wear.”

“Exactly,” I said, feeling pleased. “It’s just sex.”

I never heard from Christian again. I didn’t expect to. But I will never forget how that night made me feel. Sexy—not contrived sexy, but actually sexy. Sexy in the realm of things that tap into the most basic human desire: the small of a woman’s back, the breadth of a man’s shoulders, moistened

lips, warm skin, curves and muscles, and the sensation of one body against another. All of those things are about flesh, not minds. Yes, being in love is sexy. Intelligence, humor, all of that can be very sexy. But at the end of the day, sun-freckled skin, strong limbs, warm breath—that’s what we respond to sexually. And not just one of those things, but all of them or some of them or different ones at different times. Human nature dictates that the sexiest things are the ones that are new or different or surprising.

i have always enjoyed sex both within

a relationship and outside of one. I enjoy sex coupled with love, as well as sex without it. I enjoy different people at different times for different reasons. That interest is simply part of our biological makeup. In
The Myth of Monogamy,
Barash and Lipton write, “There is simply no question whether sexual desire for multiple partners is ‘natural.’ It is . . . [and] multiple mating doesn’t refer only to the well- known tendency of males to seek numerous sexual partners, but to females too.”
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And if that’s how we’re wired, then so be it. Monogamy might feel right for some people, might be necessary for others, but it’s impossible to make a compelling argument for monogamy as “natural.” According to Barash and Lipton, “In attempting to maintain a social and sexual bond consisting exclusively of one man and one woman, aspiring monogamists are going against some of the deep-seated

evolutionary inclinations with which biology has endowed most creatures,
Homo sapiens
included.”
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I can think of few other instances—other than perhaps creationists, who insist on debunking evolutionary theory—in which such clear scientific evidence is so summarily dismissed.

The question for those of us who find this argument compelling is how to reconcile it. It’s strange, really, because we do live in a culture of cheating. It’s accepted, even taken for granted. We see it played out in literature
(Madame Bovary)
and film
(Match Point),
as well as in politics (Bill Clinton) and pop culture (Hugh Grant). “Adultery was an accepted everyday kinda thing in the southern Christian culture I grew up in. Common for a man to have a mistress for a lifetime and a wife,” bell hooks writes in the 1999
Ms.
magazine “adultery issue.”
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The prevalence and general societal acceptance of cheating strike me as ironic because of how much flak I get for being in an open relationship. Though there’s chatter about Clinton being a sex addict, or Grant being at it again, it doesn’t affect these men’s careers, or even seem to have caused them any particular angst. But imagine what would happen if the Clintons were to come forward and publicly announce that they’re in an open relationship. God knows Hillary would neither be a U.S. senator nor be considered a viable presidential candidate. She would be seen as a pariah. But standing by her man when he cheated on her was what actually made people sympathetic to her and allowed them

to see her as more human and flawed, just like the rest of us. Ironic, indeed.

And so, though the rates of adultery and divorce and marital dissatisfaction soar, open marriage is still considered beyond taboo—it’s socially offensive. Society as a whole still clings to its ideals of heterosexual, monogamous relationships and, ultimately, marriage, while tacitly accepting cheating across the board. It’s amazing to consider the hypocrisy of it all.

How can we accept cheating while holding monogamy up as the ultimate goal of long-term relationships? My theory is that we’re so invested in the idea of monogamous relationships and marriages that the only way we have found to accommodate our nonmonogamous biology is to cheat. Fisher writes, “[A]lthough infidelity is commonplace among adults—and known to most because of the lack of privacy—a code of absolute silence prevails. Family life must not be undermined.”
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Our entire nation is practicing a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it comes to philandering, yet it’s a fragile arrangement that, more and more, is coming apart at the seams. It’s a fine line to walk: Start exposing people, and you too might be exposed. Act like it’s no big deal, and people might think you’re one of “them.”

I think we act the way we do because we are insecure in our own beliefs about how relationships should work, and we don’t want to deal with the conflict we face when we stop to consider how they actually
do
work. We don’t

want to be judged for doing it wrong, so we participate in a classic form of distraction: finger pointing. “Look at how screwed up they are!” “Did you hear so-and-so is cheating?” But crying “cheater” only keeps us from acknowledging our own desires, or makes us think we won’t be judged ourselves. The sad part is that in hiding, we perpetuate the myth about what marriages really do look like. No one wants to be the first to come out with the truth, but imagine how things could be if everyone decided to take that leap all at once.

Love and sex and relationships are a mushy concept as it is. And, like a handful of mud, if you cling to it too tightly, squeeze it desperately to hold on to it, it’s guaranteed to ooze messily through your fingers in the form of exposed affairs, broken hearts, shattered marriages, and wrecked families. The truth is this: We want it all. We want to be able to seek out other relationships, sexual and otherwise, but we don’t want to lose our committed relationships, because we gain enjoyment, security, and privilege from them. And so people cheat and work out their relationships in the aftermath of exposure, or they don’t. Either way, they too often avoid, at almost all costs, being honest about their needs and desires.

There are all sorts of reasons why our society doesn’t accept open marriage as a viable solution. Jealousy is high on that list. We have an often overwhelming desire to be someone’s one and only, even if and when we don’t

reciprocate. Our biology and our behavior actually support the structure open marriage offers, but our brains refuse to follow. “Monogamy’s not ideal for everyone and shouldn’t be promoted as the ideal or default relationship setting,” Liza, a woman I interviewed online, told me. Liza is twenty years old and in an open relationship with a married man. “I think people cheat because they get bored or they feel attracted to someone else, both of which are inevitable and can’t be prevented,” she continues.

For others, cheating is about excitement and adventure— it’s only fun because it’s not allowed. But for many people, it’s the only means of finding fulfillment without risking the security of their current relationships. I’ve personally never cheated for the thrill; I don’t like it. It makes me nervous and paranoid, and it’s difficult for me to enjoy something that I know has the potential to hurt, or is already hurting, someone else. And yet I eventually did cheat on my husband, an experience that, though very painful, helped me solidify my feeling that lying and betrayal are much worse than the act of having sex with another person.

I think it’s because people want the freedom to cheat that they accept others’ cheating. At the same time, we jump at the chance to publicly chastise anyone caught cheating, because we don’t want others to think we’re okay with it. Still, it looks to me like a lot of people
do
accept cheating, And as long as everyone’s cool with turning a blind eye, everything is copasetic. Writes Kipnis, “It’s not precisely