I Tried Having an Affair

I once considered having an affair.

The man sitting across the café table didn’t know that’s what he was to me: an illicit encounter. He was tall and handsome. A Marine. When we hugged hello he let his hand linger on my hip.

My brain darted guiltily to the space three inches inward from his fingers, where my two month baby grew. Also something he didn’t know about.

We chatted amicably about travel, our love for running and the outdoors. Speaking of, he says, do you want to go for a walk outside? It’s too nice out. I hesitated for just a moment. We were a half hour drive from where I live, it was unlikely I’d run into anyone.

We took our coffees and meandered around the park, sitting on a bench under a blossoming tree. I was genuinely enjoying him, the words spilling out between us. That heady mix of first date excitement and nerves felt foreign.

Is this what it’s like for my husband, I wondered, when he has an affair. Does he go between thinking about me, and then being surprised to realize that for whole chunks of time he didn’t think about me at all?

This innocent man I met on Tinder knew I was in an open marriage. He didn’t know that I was disregarding the “ethical” part of “ethically non-monogamous” by seeing him.

In my open marriage, it’s not open on both sides: my husband, Mars, and I agreed that he can date other women. But I can’t date other men.

This agreement is so fundamental to our relationship model, that to break it would mean having to completely date my husband again, and figure out how — or if — we worked under a new natural order in which both of us could have affairs.

Many readers have commented on this seeming inequity with indignance and concern that I understand from their perspective:

Aren’t you fearful of missing out? Angry that he “gets away” with having it all?

I understand these questions, because I’ve had them myself.

There were a few occasions in the early years of our open relationship where I pushed the limits of flirting with other men right to the edge, dipping a toe in. I wanted to see if this was a path truly open to me.

The answer: yes, there were many attractive, good men that wanted to have sex with me. But while affirming their desire was flattering, I found I didn’t crave more than that.

Then when I learned I was pregnant with our first child, a new wave of panic set in.

Would I regret not taking the chance now to explore outside the marriage?

While still in my first trimester and not visibly pregnant, I signed up for Tinder and pursued a few secret dates.

I felt sweat prick at my armpits everytime I lied to Mars about going out to see girlfriends. Whether you think our open marriage agreement is fair or not, the fact is I was breaking his trust in me. It made my head dizzy with guilt and fear — why was I risking breaking us?

When the Marine and I wandered back to our cars an hour later, I couldn’t take the plunge — I dove in for a friendly hug goodbye before there could be a question of anything more.

He looked inquiringly into my eyes as I pulled away. But I knew: this wouldn’t ever feel right to me.

…

You see, it’s not seizing all life has to offer if I don’t want it. And it’s not letting my husband “get away” with something, if I get great benefit from our relationship model too.

My husband was honest very early on in our relationship about his needs: “I need sexual variety to feel happy and free in our relationship.”

For me I’ve found that the dynamic of our open marriage brings all these things too: sexiness, freedom, and novelty.

But in almost an inverse way to how my husband experiences those exact same benefits.

Here’s how:

1. I get turned on by being “owned” by my husband.

When I learned that having sex with other women was something he needed, I asked whether he’d like to know when I was seeing other men.

You see readers, I was assuming like many of you that it should of course be open on both sides. My modern gender equity trained brain couldn’t imagine another way to see it.

Mars took a minute to think about my question. Then he put his hand on my thigh, looked possessively into my eyes, and said with firmness, “I don’t want you to see other men. I want you to be only mine.”

I felt my entire body melt. No one had ever said anything sexier to me. Waves of arousal and delight flooded me, and I knew I would give myself completely to this man.

In my softened heart I felt pride — I was a precious jewel he wanted to guard. A new layer of femininity enveloped me. I liked how it fit.

2. His relationship affairs fulfill my craving for novelty.

Many choose polyamory because of the novelty it brings to a relationship. This could look like the NRE (new relationship energy) you experience with a new partner, but it also could be the benefit of fresh energy that it brings to current partnerships.

After all, what is novelty? It’s anything that shakes up the mundane and awakens you to life.

Mars says that seeing other women helps him appreciate me more. Marriage is like a scent that you stop noticing when you’re surrounded by it, a painting in your house you walk past without seeing. When he comes home after being with someone else he appreciates my unique smell again.

I happen to enjoy this kind of awakening experience not by stepping outside the marriage, but through the other women that come in.

Recently, his girlfriend Bella came over for dinner. We chatted amicably, and out of the corner of my eye I watched her and Mars play with our baby as I prepared the meal. They looked hot together, I thought, as his strong frame bent over her wispy one for a hello peck on the lips. At the table I took in his hand squeezing her thigh, her flirty laugh in his direction.

With Bella in our kitchen my heart pounds excitedly. I’m no longer thinking about cooking salmon, I’m thinking about sex. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the one having the sex, what matters is the frame of mind the experience puts me in.

I love our family life, and Mars and I have a fulfilling relationship. But as everyone knows, while blissful domesticity is comforting, necessary to raising children, and an end goal we all seek…it also can get boring.

Skydiving with your partner bonds you through the shared memorable experience and adrenaline. A cheaper option: try having dinner with your husband’s girlfriend.

3.) By not dating others myself, I am free to focus on other things.

Freedom is the ability to choose what you focus on. The polyamory community is rife with discussion about how to balance the calendar when you have multiple partners.

When Bella came over for dinner I spent the first hour with them having a relaxed conversation. But then I left early for my book club, letting Mars and Bella do the clean up and baby bedtime routines.

I’m six years into my open relationship with my husband, but sometimes these situations I find myself in still feel unbelievable.

It was a little unbelievable that I could chirp cheerfully to them as I put on my coat, “Bye, thanks for cleaning up,” while knowing that he would be fucking her brains out on our bed later that night.

I won’t lie, as I was leaving a part of me did feel resentful; I was being left out of their intimate play.

But we put too much emphasis on romantic relationships sometimes. In my current phase of life what I’ve been craving more of is time with friends, or to write, read, and focus on my career. I had a marvelous time at book club.

Back when I was single, I did not feel free. I felt bound by time, in a rat race to find “the one.”

Flipping through Tinder when I met the Marine was an act of desperation, not freedom seeking. I was a slave to my insecurities and seeking to prove my desirability, not fulfill my own desires.

…

Every now and then I’ll text a man I used to have a wild crush on. I call it a friendship, but there are still the little butterflies of a mild attraction.

Sometimes when we’re texting, I hope Mars will catch sight of his name on my phone. I want my husband to have a light reminder that other men find me interesting.

But that is the extent of my infidelity. I try to imagine a situation that could compel me to break my marriage boundaries: crush comes to town, and Mars is away. I invite him over for dinner, he touches me in a certain way…

I shiver. The daydream isn’t rewarding, it leaves me feeling unclean and anxious.

I suppose it is possible a man will come along that will be a true object of my desire. Sometimes when I see Mars with Bella I feel hints of wanting this for myself.

But falling in love would be a threat to the rest of my peaceful, happy life. You can’t just keep adding more and more to your life, there is a cost to everything.

The person who could tear me away from the balance I have now would have to be quite the person indeed.

I’m just not sure I want to meet them.

…

Thank you for reading! Please follow me, give a clap, and leave a comment — I’d love to hear your thoughts, challenging or supportive.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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