At the age of 20 I met my future partner of 9½ years. Sylvia was an arty type and we fitted well together. The relationship was good – in fact the sex was excellent and there was lots of it. It was other stuff which got in the way of our relationship continuing in a smooth progression of lifelong monogamy, mainly lack of trust, jealousy and a low self esteem on her part, and a lively, excitable, fun-loving persona on mine.

I’ve always found it easy to talk to people and am not bothered about appearances, so I’ve lots of friends and contacts. Sylvia wasn’t so outgoing and I often went socialising by myself. Sylvia would sometimes ask if I fancied other women, or if I’d told her I’d had a coffee with a female friend with whom I wasn’t sexually active, Sylvia would ask things like did we ever hold hands, or if I kissed my friend goodbye, was it on her cheek or lips?

I loved her – enough even to decline the offer of sex with someone at a party. This event (or non-event!) was some kind of fulcrum in our time together. I told her that I could’ve gone upstairs with the woman but had declined because I was in a relationship with someone who couldn’t cope with that kind of thing, and I loved her more than a quick fun bonk with a stranger. I felt good being faithful at the party, as I believed I was being honourable and behaving in the right way.

Her reaction was unexpected – she flew off into a rage. I think the supposition was that I’d done something to encourage this woman. When I told her, I wished I’d actually done the deed! If I had done it I would have either told Sylvia or been ’seen through’ if I’d tried to hide it. And I’m fairly sure that would have been the end. It really made it clear to me that she had a problem with her feelings about me, that she was possessive and damaged.

So, smarting from a punishment for my honesty and integrity, I started ‘lying by omission’ i.e. I decided not to mention the occasional coffee dates as it only seemed to stir up trouble.

Trying to be monogamous

I should say from the beginning that I have talked to Russell but not to Sylvia, so I only have his side of the story. However, I don’t think his experience is unusual. He is the kind of person who thrives on getting to know new people, and on flirting. He says that many women find him attractive and he gets an offer of a sexual encounter fairly regularly. Someone with his kind of personality will always find monogamy difficult.

Russell is also a person who hates being dishonest or breaking trust. When he was with Sylvia he tried hard to stay faithful, in a relationship where this meant staying monogamous. When offered the chance to have sex with someone he found attractive, he said no because he knew Sylvia would be upset by it. This seems to me to be exactly the right thing to have done.

As usual, I’d like to ask what you would have done in Russell’s situation. I wouldn’t recommend lying by omission, the route he chose at the time – and I’m sure he now wouldn’t recommend it either.

One possible way forward might have been for the two of them to have a long discussion about what their different expectations were, and how they might get round their differing needs and personalities. Perhaps with the help of a counsellor, they might have worked something out.

Another possibility might have been for Russell to continue his ‘occasional coffee dates’ but mention them to Sylvia each time. But this would have been very difficult without first having that long discussion and it would have caused a lot of conflict. I can see why Russell didn’t do this.

And I suppose the other option might have been for Russell to decide that he was unable to continue in the relationship, given the differences between his and Sylvia’s outlook on monogamy.

When your partner admits being tempted

What about Sylvia’s options? I don’t know exactly why Sylvia reacted negatively to Russell’s admission – although again, I don’t think her reaction is unusual.

What would you do if your partner came back from a party and told you that they had been offered sex but refused because they wanted to be faithful to you? ( This is assuming that you have an agreement of monogamy, whether spoken or unspoken.) You could feel angry or hurt if, as Russell suspects of Sylvia, you think that they might have encouraged the other person. Or you could thank them for being honest and for thinking of your wishes even when tempted to break their promise.

It is clear to me that Sylvia’s reaction was most certainly counterproductive in this case. By giving Russell the impression that he was being punished despite his honesty, she was giving him no incentive to be honest again. Perhaps she thought that she had to give him a reason not to even flirt with other women again, never mind be honest about his flirting. With Russell or someone like him, this was never likely to work. Reacting angrily to your partner’s honest admission that they have refused an offer of sex is just encouraging them to lie in the future.

For some people who have experienced this situation, they’ve discovered that actually they didn’t mind their partner being interested somebody else, and the experience has opened up a whole new world of Open Fidelity. It didn’t happen this way for Russell and Sylvia, although the experience shaped the way Russell felt about monogamy and later helped him to work out a more honest way to have several lovers.

In the next post, I’ll tell you how Russell and Sylvia’s relationship developed.

• ignore the feeling and stay monogamous;
• leave their partner in order to get together with a new partner; or
• cheat on their partner with the other person.

I’ve talked a bit about staying monogamous, though I’m sure there will be more on that in future posts. Leaving the original partner is always a possibility, but often the person does not want to leave, for reasons such as:

• they love their partner
• they feel committed
• they don’t want to be seen to break their promises
• breaking up would cause upheaval (emotionally, practically and/or financially, particularly if they are married or have children).

For those who don’t want to leave their partner but are finding it hard to reconcile this with an attraction to someone else, a secret affair is the only other obvious option in our culture.

So given that other options aren’t obviously available to most people (a situation I aim to change), it isn’t really surprising how many people cheat on their partners. It seems to be almost expected by western society today that many people will enter into ‘monogamous’ relationships (such as marriage) and will then, sooner or later, have sex with someone else without telling their partner or spouse.

If I promised to love only one person until death, I would be saying ‘never again’ to the experience of falling in love.

Never again to wallow in that delicious agony of lusting after someone.

Never again to experience the miracle of finding they lust after me too.

Never to flirt.

Never to kiss lips I haven’t kissed before (or at least only friendly kisses, not proper snogs).

Never to discover a new lover’s body, marvelling in its uniqueness, the way they respond or move or touch.

As I am also a bisexual woman, being monogamous with a man would mean ruling out all future sexual contact with a woman. And promising monogamy with a woman means the even more unthinkable suggestion of never again having sex with a man.

How can anyone volunteer for this? Does anyone really think about it this way when they make a promise to be monogamous? I can only conclude that for many people it is an intention not a certainty. Or even wishful thinking, or blind optimism, or self-deception. Or are some people even lying when they make the promise, knowing they don’t really mean it?

‘Oh no’, you may say, ‘for me it was easy, I knew I would never need anyone but my partner for the rest of my life’. Well, if so, I’m delighted for you and your partner, and good luck with never needing anyone for the years to come. My feeling, though, is that you are in the minority.

For me it is not monogamy itself that is problematic. I have been monogamous in practice for a year or two on several occasions; in other words I have had only one partner, and had sex with only them. But promising to be monogamous is another thing altogether. I tried once and lasted three months before ending the relationship. As long as I know I’m not ruling out possibilities in the future, I can live without these possibilities for the time being. But I couldn’t promise to be the exclusive lover, for the long term, of just one person.

Here is Nell describing her experience of being unfaithful:

“I was monogamous for seven months with one boyfriend. When an opportunity for sex arose with a close female friend, I was very happy to go with it. But now I knew I was supposed to be monogamous, and so this was clandestine. She knew of him, but he was unaware. For the following year I was increasingly sexual with others. My boyfriend remained mostly unaware, though I sailed close to the wind several times. I understood that the status quo was supposed to be monogamy, and I simply saw myself as destined to be unfaithful. I knew that I didn’t love my boyfriend any less because I was sharing sexualness with other people, in fact some of these others offered things that he never could, and maybe it helped us remain together. I rarely had guilt at my sexual relationships with other people. I knew he would find it hard to know, but I was becoming increasingly aware of my own discomfort at this dishonesty.

“It seemed wrong that the person I professed to love most was not the person I could share everything with. It’s not the practice of deceit – I’m exceptionally good at deceit, and always have been – by nature I was secretive and I found the act of dishonesty very easy. However, emotionally, it had stopped making sense. I needed to be able to share the fullness of my life and relationships with the person I was having my most important relationship with. Yet I didn’t know how to do this without destroying that relationship. Already, several times, I had had to admit to being sexual with another, and twice, he had broken off the relationship because of this, though only for a matter of weeks. He had also asked me to be monogamous, and I had said ‘yes’, because I didn’t know how to say anything else. Each time, shortly afterwards, I had broken that decision and given myself a hard time about my inability to trust myself to remain faithful. And yet knowing, still, that I didn’t love my boyfriend any less.

“In the end what happened was it seemed to be that if I said I would be monogamous, almost immediately I’d be sexual with someone else. It was like I was proving to myself that I couldn’t keep that promise. Apparently I didn’t want to even try. Reading my diaries, I had written something like ‘I can’t even trust myself, I only promised last week that I wouldn’t be sexual with other men, and here I am, this has happened, and I can’t keep my promise’.”

Have you had an experience like this? Have you had a secret affair and felt guilty? Have you promised yourself that you would never do it again, and then broken that promise? There is a solution.

Nell later discovered for herself that it was possible to be nonmonogamous in an open and honest way. Many other people I have interviewed have also discovered this. She learnt about polyamory, which means having honest, loving and/or romantic relationships with more than one person. I’ll write more about polyamory in the next post: it is not exactly the same as open fidelity but has a lot in common with it.

Many people try their utmost to be monogamous. They try to avoid getting tempted into having sex with anyone other than their spouse (or their partner, in other words the person they have committed to). But more fail than succeed.

Yes, there are couples who stay happily together for decades, with no interest in anyone but each other. They are the lucky ones in today’s society – they find it easy to keep to the conventional rules.

But I suspect that many other couples who do manage long-term monogamy struggle with it. They are tempted and resist the temptation, or they avoid situations where they could be tempted. Perhaps one of the two partners struggles alone with their attractions to other people. This person might be afraid of mentioning to their partner how difficult they are finding the struggle to be monogamous, for fear that their partner could be angry or could leave them.

Alternatively, the two partners might struggle together when one of them is attracted to a third person. One partner is suspicious and the other partner makes promises or denies everything.

Looking at relationships this way, we can see that large portions of the energy in a relationship can be used in keeping to the rule of monogamy.

And of course many others don’t manage it. I will go into the numbers in more detail in a future post but, essentially, studies show that in western societies marital infidelity occurs in 40-70% of all marriages. These infidelities can take many forms, from visits to prostitutes, one-night stands and holiday flings to affairs lasting years.

Many of the married people having affairs have vowed to ‘forsake all others’ when they got married, usually with full sincerity, and even when these exact words are not an explicit part of the marriage ceremony they are implied in it. Can we argue that they have changed into different people, suddenly not caring about the feelings of their spouse? If infidelity was a rare occurrence we could treat it as an aberration; but it is not rare, not at all.