My partner and I have been living together for more than 11 years. Wow. Time flies like an arrow. (Fruit flies like a banana, tee hee.) We’ve both been married before (two times each). Experience being a sometimes harsh teacher, we both came into the relationship with a (short) list of “must-haves” and “don’t-wants”.
A big “must-have” for both of us was ownership of ourselves. I own my body, she owns hers. I own my genitals. She owns her genitals. I own my thoughts, feelings and behaviors, and she owns hers.
Now that may sound obvious to you, but it has been nothing short of revelatory to me. In the past, if my partner wasn’t happy, I’d try to change me to fix it. In the past, my sexuality was held hostage to the desires of my partner. If she wasn’t horny I probably wasn’t going to be having sex. In the name of “relationship” I surrendered my autonomy. Predictably, over time, my relationships became prisons, service became servitude, pleasures become obligations and I became a resentful, unhappy eunuch.
Many of my friends and clients wonder if our autonomy means that we have an “open relationship“. Yes and no. If by “open” you mean that I choose who to be sexual with, and, when I choose to be sexual, it’s a personal decision that I make, then yes, our relationship is open. If by “open” you mean that I choose to have a lover (or several lovers) other than my partner, then no, my relationship is closed. Unless of course “open” implies that I could, if I wanted, have lovers other than my “significant other”, then it is open.
I’m pretty confused by that label: open. (Actually I’m pretty confused about most labels. It’s my habit of mind to hear a label and immediately search for exceptions and contradictions, and I rarely come up empty.)
What my partner and I have is trust, really great communication, and a commitment to each others’ joy. All I want from our relationship is our mutual delight, our mutual love, our mutual pleasure. I know that every relationship has painful moments, but I also know that dwelling on that pain, making rules to avoid that pain, trying to control her to avoid my pain, letting myself be controlled to avoid her pain, etc., hasn’t ever worked for me.
I recently interviewed Esther Perel, author of “Mating In Captivity,” a terrific book about how to keep the passion and eroticism alive in long-term relationship. In her book she writes “Trouble looms when monogamy is no longer a free expression of loyalty but a form of enforced compliance.”
Trusting myself to make good decisions, trusting Leslie to make good decisions, we create a relationship based on trust. And, like magic, we preserve our autonomy while creating loving, lasting relationship.