Chapter 1: Unthought Known

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I suggested to my husband that we open our marriage. There is so much I didn’t know.

For starters, I didn’t know the first thing about consensual nonmonogamy, apart from its most obvious definition—sex with other people that your spouse or partner agrees to. I didn’t know the difference between swinging and polyamory, or what relationship anarchy was, or what it meant to be “solo poly.” I had never heard the term metamour and had no idea the word “nonhierarchical” could refer to relationships, or how. I didn’t know that there are as many expressions of nonmonogamy as there are monogamy.

Neither did I know how to go about opening our marriage. If monogamy meant only having sex with one person, and nonmonogamy meant having sex with more than one person, then I guessed that was the basic gist of what a person needed to do to open their marriage: start having sex with other people. On this point, especially, I didn’t know how much I didn’t know.

Before we opened our marriage, I didn’t know that dating is different when you don’t have an end game—marriage, family—in mind. I didn’t understand that there are varying degrees of “open,” nor the relevance of context when meeting someone new.

I didn’t know that I was not the only partner in my marriage with desires outside of it.

I didn’t know I would meet someone who would change my life.

I didn’t know how I would beg for him to dominate me or why, nor how my affection for him would devastate my husband.

I didn’t know there was an addict in me, lying in wait, or how the cumulative effects of childhood trauma were influencing my choices.

I didn’t know Jack and I wouldn’t make it.