Sharing Love, Embracing Change, and Telling the REAL Truth (Even When It's Scary)

Dear Viny,

Not too long ago I came out of a chilly, depressed, years-long sexual drought in my marriage, reclaimed my sexuality, and flew straight into the poly sun. It was a wild, crazy, blazing, and challenging time. And absolutely the right thing to do. Although my husband is deeply monogamous and has NO libido (while I'm poly with high libido), in the end we decided to stay married, raise our children together, and keep the marriage open for my benefit. We still function quite well as a family. He's my best friend. But we're NOT lovers.

I started dating a man a while back and now we're in love. Not lust. Not infatuation. Love. Profound, beautiful, partnership love. My husband suspects that the relationship is significant. He's asked me where it's going. I've told him the truth: I don't know. But I've not yet shared the extent of the relationship with him. His knowing won't change our lives in any way. My lover and I are content with what we have – we have no need to define and/or label it, no need to establish goals for the future. We're just taking it one step at a time, two people with very busy lives. We both believe in non-monogamy even though we're both only interested in seeing each other right now. We definitely don't want to get married or anything remotely like that.

My question is this: should I tell my husband that I've fallen in love? Should I tell him that this lover is not just a lover but a true partner who now factors into my life? What to do?

-S

***

Dear S,

Yes, you should tell your husband you've fallen in love. It's important for him to know that “this lover is not just a lover but a true partner,” because anyone who factors into your life in such a big way is also going to end up factoring into your husband's life.

You already knew that, and yet you wrote me, wondering what to do. I have to admit, I was initially puzzled. Why, I wondered to myself, is she asking me to weigh in on this one? She doesn't really need another opinion. And then it hit me: you aren't asking me what I think you ought to do. You're asking me to help you figure out why you haven't already done it.

I have only your letter to go on, but I have a funny feeling about one sentence in particular. I think it's a Big Clue, possibly even The Key to Unlocking this Mystery, so let's get out our magnifying glasses and take a closer look at it, shall we?

Here's the suspect sentence: His knowing won't change our lives in any way.

On the surface, you are saying that you are happy with the way your life is arranged, and you have no plans to do any rearranging, at least not any time soon. You have a functional let's-raise-the-kids-together relationship with your best friend, and you have an amazing let's-share-our-hearts-together relationship with someone you consider to be a true partner, and you want to keep both relationships exactly the way they are. You have had to work pretty hard to achieve your present level of bliss, and you want to make it clear that you aren't about to upset the collective apple cart by doing anything stupid (such as leaving your husband for this other man). So far, so good. 

Looking a bit closer, I see a rationalization. If you can prove that your love is immaterial (“won't change our lives in any way”), then maybe it doesn't matter whether or not your husband knows how you feel. But that's a flimsy, feel-good excuse, and you know it.

Looking closer still, I see fear. On some level, you must realize that your sentence is one measly little sandbag against a rising sea. Love changes lives. It is changing yours right now. The false bravado of your words belies your anxiety. Let's face it, S: change is a lot easier to embrace when you're coming out of a chilly, depressed, years-long sexual drought than when you are sunning yourself on a tropical beach, cool drink in hand.

Let me put it another way. You're a mother, so I assume you are familiar with the special kind of terror that descends when you've just finished cleaning the entire house – for once it's spotless, an absolute frigging miracle of spaciousness and tidy delight – and you hear the kids come in, shedding raincoats and school papers and wet leaves as they squelch down the hall in their muddy boots. In a panic, you yell, “Don't! Touch! Anything!” And then you start pleading, whether or not anyone is listening to you: “Can we keep it like this for just five minutes? Is that really too much to ask?”

I understand that you don't want to tell your husband how you feel about your lover because you are actually afraid his knowing will change your lives – quite possibly for the worse, at least in the short term. It makes complete sense that you wouldn't want to risk losing what you have by telling your husband something that will probably be hard for him to process. What you have is wonderful, and worth protecting. But his not knowing will also end up changing your lives, almost certainly for the worse. In fact, your little evasions – “I don't know where this relationship is going” (technically true) instead of “I have fallen in love” (the real truth) – may have already begun to take a toll on the friendship you share. Continued silence will only create more emotional distance. Remember, if you wall off your heart in an effort to keep it safe, you are in danger of losing what you value most.

So here's my advice: Don't keep your love too close. Open your heart. Share your feelings, and embrace the inevitable changes love makes to the landscape of your life. It's scary, I know, but just remember, you got where you are today by taking emotional risks. Your future self will thank you for the beautiful view.

Froot Loops and hula hoops,

Viny

A Defense of Casual Sex

Dear Viny,

Can you please explain the appeal of casual sex?

- Curiously Serious

***

Dear Serious,

It depends on what you mean by “casual”.

For me, there's the kind of casual that's almost purely physical, except that it's shot through with a sense of personal power. I'm suffused with feelings of pleasure that derive from being alive, in motion, and thoroughly in my own body.

There's the kind of casual that's about observation, exploration, and discovery: who am I in this moment, and how am I being perceived/received by others? Who is this other, and how do I perceive/receive him or her? It can be a cerebral experience, even dispassionate, but I often feel as though I am learning something important about how to be more fully human. There's also the reverse: an experience in which I am offered relief from thought, when some non-rational version of self takes over, and “I” am just along for the ride.

There's the kind of casual that allows me to float free of time. I don't have to ask myself, “What led to this moment? Where is this going? What does it MEAN?” Instead, I immerse myself in the present. I am able to pay close attention to sensory details and the play of my own emotions, moment to moment, without being tempted to turn them into a story with an exciting beginning, a ho-hum middle, and a tragic end.

Then there's the kind of casual that makes it possible to connect with another person (or with a group of people) without having to run the usual compatibility scripts. It doesn't matter whether I approve of his politics or share her dietary preferences, because we're communing on a different plane. The love I feel may be light, in the sense that it is transitory and weightless, but it is nonetheless true.

I hope I've given you a sense of the some of the ways in which “casual” sex might be appealing. But I have a confession to make: up until now, I have been talking about dancing.

For me, dance is a form of sex. (Interestingly, there are fundamentalist religious groups that agree with me on this!) When I interact with others on the dance floor, I bring my whole self to the experience. The exchange of energy feels sexual to me. Sex: desire, movement, release. A creative force grounded in physical expression, transcending physical boundaries.

However, if by “sex” you mean something unimaginatively literal, such as “the insertion of one person's genitals into another person's body cavity” or “any activity between people that involves a certain degree of nudity, a certain amount of flesh-on-flesh contact, and preferably at least one garden-variety orgasm,” then you may need to take your question elsewhere, because that kind of sex doesn't appeal to me in a casual context. I can extrapolate, based on my experiences of “casual” dancing and non-casual “sex”, what the appeal of casual sex might be for someone else, but I have very little direct experience of it myself.

About five years ago, I decided to try out “I think you're hot but let's keep it cool” sex. I found someone on OKCupid who met my basic requirements (attractive, intelligent, ethically non-monogamous, and not a health risk) and commenced my experiment. (Yes, he knew I was playing around with him, and he was okay with that.) After several dates, which were spread out over several months, I reached my conclusion: although the sex worked the way sex is technically supposed to work (meaning that our bodies functioned the way we expected them to function), I just didn't get off on getting off that way. Thankfully, I was able to extricate myself from this “acquaintances-with-benefits” arrangement with minimal fuss and no hurt feelings.

Although I have decided I don't want to engage in casual sex-as-it's-typically-defined, I'm unabashedly sex-positive. I defend the right of every individual to define, explore, and express his/her (nir/vis/eir/hir/zir/xyr...) sexuality in any way that does not prevent someone else from exercising that same inalienable right. I celebrate sex, in all its glorious multiplicity – and I am delighted that others are able to enjoy forms of sex that don't appeal to me personally.

So, if casual sex – however you define it! – appeals to you, go for it! If it doesn't, that's also completely fine. Whenever you try but fail to understand the appeal of something that others seem to find appealing, all it means is there's something you don't understand. Not understanding something doesn't make you – or anyone else – wrong.

Tangos & Mangoes,

Viny

Let's Get On with Getting It On! (Dealing with an OSO's Reluctant Spouse, Part II)

Dear Viny,

I'm actually in a similar situation to Debacle Herein, from your last column. I'm married (with kids), and am dating a married woman (also with kids); let's call her L. My wife and I have been poly for years, while this is L's first poly experience.

In L's marriage, she has been the one pushing for polyamory, while her husband is not interested in it for himself. (Actually, he doesn't really like it for her, either.) But the fact is that, while she loves him dearly, she isn't really...*satisfied* in her marriage. She has made it clear that this is a requirement for her happiness and fulfillment. (Specifically, that the thought of never being...*satisfied*...is not something that she can really accept for the rest of her life.)

At the same time, she cares about his feelings and wants this to go as smoothly as possible. So it's been a *very* slow process. (We see each other about once a month, for a few hours, in a public place. She doesn't stay out late. We've kissed, but not much else. This has been going on for about six months now.)

That's been fine with me: I want to do the right thing by all parties involved. I even met him once. (I thought it went well enough, but I found out later that he wasn't comfortable with it.)

He has been as supportive as I think he's able. He loves her and wants her to be happy, and he understands her reasons. And yet...he is *really* struggling with jealousy.

I feel like he needs to figure out exactly where these feelings are coming from, but also like it's not my place to get involved in that conversation. From what L has said, he hasn't shown much interest in unpacking his feelings. He also hasn't shown any interest in getting to know me any better, or in dating anyone himself. He's told L that it would be easier for him if he just didn't know about it, if he'd never met me, etc. (I guess meeting me made it "more real".) I want to be open and honest (as does L), but there's this question of balancing 'honesty' with 'respecting his wishes'.

So here we are, six months later, and she's getting impatient for things to move forward. And then back just a bit, and then forward again...like when people are fucking. (Single entendre is all the entendre I need, thanks.) And, yeah, I'd like that, too. I'm not dying without it, but it would sure be nice. The problem remains, though: the husband is still struggling with this. So, what to do?

My feeling is that I've done my 'ethical due diligence' in this. He doesn't want to meet me again, doesn't want to talk to me. I guess I feel like this is between L and her husband now, and if she is ready, then so am I.

My wife, on the other hand, disagrees. She says L's husband clearly doesn't want anyone to sleep with his wife, so if I do, then *I* am hurting him, and am ethically accountable for that.

But how do you balance his needs with hers? And to what extent is it even my place to do that balancing? He wants her to be happy and fulfilled, and wants her to date if that's what she needs to be fulfilled...but also wants her not to, because it makes him miserable. She's been very clear that extramarital sex *will* happen (with someone, at some point), so it's just a question of when, and with whom. If he's not interested in processing this, how long does she have to wait? How long do *I* have to wait?

Is my wife right? Or have I done my due diligence?

- Holding Pattern

***

Dear Holding,

If there's one thing I really appreciate, it's being asked to come between a husband and his wife. (Entendre à trois! I win!)

Seriously, though: I am an advice columnist, not a judge or arbiter. I can drape myself in voluminous black robes and put on a goofy white wig, if you really need someone to rule in your favor, but let me state – for the record – that I am not establishing a legal precedent here. Relationships do not operate according to laws or set rules, no matter how reasonable, wise, or well-intentioned they might be.

I recently came across a fun slide show put together by Cunning Minx, 8 Things I Wish I'd Known about Polyamory (Before I Tried It and It Kicked My Ass). Item #3 was “Guidelines, Not Rules” – because “rules made out of fear are 99% ineffective” and “stuff changes”. Also, and more to the point here, no two people/relationships/situations are exactly alike. In other words, as George Bernard Shaw famously argued, “Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.” (Yes! I covered Minx and Shaw in the same paragraph! I hope they are feeling cozy together under that blanket....)

I submit that there are at least as many different “right” ways of treating another person as there are people on the planet. To the extent that we know a particular person, we can attempt to customize our actions and interactions to respect his or her preferences. This is true for all living creatures, actually. Treating a dog right means honoring its doggy likes and dislikes, insofar as we are capable of understanding them. However, sometimes the divide between another's preferences and our own is simply too great: most dogs, for example, want to engage in a lot more crotch-sniffing than their human companions can tolerate. Also, very often – more often than not! – we just don't know enough about how another living creature, human or otherwise, might want to be treated. The only way we can hope to bridge that divide is honest communication. Absent that, we are back to our best guess.

Unfortunately, “Another Grey Zone Guideline” doesn't have quite the same ring to it as “The Golden Rule,” but here is a guideline that may work in your particular situation: Let the slowest member of the group set the pace.

I can already hear the protests beginning: “But...but...the slowest member of our group isn't moving! If we go his speed, we'll never get anywhere! We might as well rent ourselves out to the public park system as statues!”

I'm not saying you must all resign yourselves to verdigris and birdshit on your shoulders. If the slowest member of the group is refusing to budge, he is, in effect, separating himself from the group. Anyone who is unwilling to cooperate is choosing to behave as an individual rather than as part of a group, and has to accept that he may get left behind.

Here's the thing, though: everyone else in the group needs to agree that it is in the group's collective best interests to move forward, understanding and accepting the possibility that moving forward may mean leaving L's husband behind. If L's marriage unravels, there will be serious consequences for her – which means there will also be consequences for you, and, by extension, your family. That's quite the sequence of consequences.

Yes, I agree with you: you have done your due diligence as far as L's husband is concerned. He has been given the opportunity to communicate with you directly about his needs and wants, but he has chosen to stay behind a self-protective wall. You aren't a mind-reader; you are therefore not responsible for treating him as he wishes to be treated. Unless and until L's husband changes his mind about interacting with you directly, how best to treat him is L's concern, not yours.

However, this doesn't mean you are totally in the clear. To the extent that you are involved with L, her concerns concern you, and, by extension, your wife. Before moving forward (and then back, and then forward again) with L, more diligence is due for the doing. Are you reasonably sure L understands the risk she is taking, and what kind of support she can expect from you if things go south (as it were)? Do you clearly understand your wife's concerns? Has your wife been able to express her misgivings to L directly? Unless and until everyone in the group has been given the opportunity to speak and be heard by everyone else in the group, and unless and until you can all support one another in moving forward (and back, and forward again), it's probably best to keep your pants on and continue to sit tight.

Just remember: it's polyamory. You can't do it alone. QED.

Civil torts and apple tortes,

Viny

"To Date, Or Not to Date..." (Dealing with an OSO's Reluctant Spouse, Part I)

Dear Viny,

I'm interested in a woman who is married. She's interested in me, too, and would like to try dating, but not without agreement from her husband. I respect (and am grateful for) that, but now I'm hearing stories about how upset it's making him.

She's really pushing him to try to accept the paradigm of ethical non-monogamy, but it came out of nowhere for him, and I'm worried. She assures me that he's growing through the process, and that even he likes the changes he's seeing in himself. But he still isn't sure about opening their marriage, and I keep hearing things like, "We talked about you and me kissing, and he threw up twice."

I don't feel like their relationship is my business, but I'm not comfortable being a part of something so upsetting for someone else. I want explorations like this to be about love and enjoyment, not distress to the point of vomiting.

Really not sure what to do.

-Debacle Herein

***

Dear Debacle,

Your choices are actually pretty clear: you can close the door on this possibility, or you can keep the door cracked while you wait for something to change.

If you decide to close the door, you'll be looking at disappointment – yours, hers, and (who knows?) maybe even her husband's. You can probably also expect to come up against some hard feelings. (As a general rule, closed doors are neither particularly interesting nor particularly soft.) But you will have made a definite decision, and can continue on down the avenue. If you change your mind, you can always go back and ring this particular lady's bell – but please don't go re-visiting your decision to re-visit, or you may lose some valuable bits in a freak door-slamming accident.

Should you choose to keep the door slightly ajar, you'll be dealing with some challenging emotions – yours, hers, and definitely her husband's: impatience, anxiety, guilt, anger, jealousy, distress to the point of vomiting, etc. You will also be distracted by a veritable parade of conundrums: How involved in their marital drama do you want to be? Is partial ignorance partial bliss? To what extent are you responsible for someone else's feelings? To what extent are you responsible your own feelings? What makes you think you are a separate entity from him, or her – or anyone else, for that matter? Would hypnotherapy be an ethically defensible way to get the husband on board? But what if he consented to being hypnotized? And does sexting count as sex?

This whole being-involved-with-people thing is a mess. Why on earth do we do it?

Debacle, I hate to say it, but if you're looking for love and enjoyment that doesn't cause anyone any emotional distress, dating a married person is a completely batshit idea. So is dating a single person. So is simply being a person, dating or not.

I'm sure you are well aware that every rose has its thorn, and every night has its dawn, and cliché cowboys everywhere are gonna keep twanging their sad, sad songs even when they don't understand the basics of meter and rhyme. So let's move on. It seems to me that the real source of your confusion is that you don't know your own heart.

Simply put: you need to figure out whether you are more uncomfortable than interested, or more interested than uncomfortable.

Trying to gauge how uncomfortable you are based on your assessment of how uncomfortable you are making other people is a surefire way of getting nowhere. It's just as ridiculous as trying to gauge how interested in someone you are based on your assessment of how interested s/he is in you. We all do this, of course. It's another of our stupid human tricks: circle around the rim of the cauldron until you get so exhausted that you fall in, or you fall out.

I believe that all ethical action is predicated on a commitment to self-awareness. Inner clarity is what allows us to experience true empathy. So, as soon as you notice yourself aimlessly circling an issue, stop. Ask yourself, “Am I being honest with myself about my desires and fears, my abilities and limitations? How open am I to experience? How open am I to others? What do I – real-I – want?”

I have a hunch that you already know the answer. Quiet your mind, and you will feel it in your body.

Umbrellas & Ululations,

Viny

Poly-themed Movies You Might Want to See

Dear Viny,

I've really been enjoying this new blog! Hanging on every word! I just saw the movie Her, which had interesting poly overtones. Have you seen it? Can you recommend other movies with good messages for the poly crowd?
 
Regards, 
An Adoring Fan

***

Dear Adorable Person-Whose-Email-Address-I-Recognize,

I'm so glad to know that strangers on the internet are not the only people reading my blog! :-)

Thank you for giving me a no-brainer question to answer. As you know, it's been a tough week for me, and compiling a "to-watch" list is just about my speed right now. Please pass the popcorn!

Yes, I have seen Her, and it was fantastic, IMNSHO. (One of my alt-relationship FB friends hated it, though: she said something like, "If the future is about high-waisted pants, hush puppy shoes, and an inability to relate to anything on a non-narcissistic level, then forget it -- and I want my 2 hours back.") Regardless, from an open relationship perspective, there were some interesting scenes. Some examples: 1) the botched encounter with Samantha's body surrogate; 2) when Theodore asks Samantha, "Are you talking to anyone else right now?" and she admits that she is talking to over 8,000 others at that moment, and to being in love with more than 600 of them; 3) the ending scene, in which the two humans are able to comfort each other because they have been intimate with each other about their intimacies with others.

Other poly-relevant movies I would recommend include Kinsey, Henry & June, and Shortbus. Great films for sparking discussion along the lines of, "Wouldn't their lives have been so much less dysfunctional/tragic if only they had been poly?!" include Frieda, 28 Hotel Rooms, and Blue Is the Warmest Color.  

Since the above is a pretty short list, I polled the members of one of the online alt-relationship groups to which I belong, asking for their faves, and got the following suggestions:

Splendor
Angels of Sex
3
Bandits
Paint Your Wagon
Tierra
Savages
Design for Living
Gloomy Sunday
It's a Disaster
French Twist
Summer Lovers 

I think I'm going to start with Angels of Sex, because it was recommended by more than one person, and apparently -- to quote one woman who has a way with words -- "Everyone in the movie was, like, stupid hot. Just unreasonably attractive." Sounds good to me!

Someone also recommended this list of poly-themed movies compiled by The InnKeeper, who seems to be more of a movie buff than I am. Enjoy!

Flimflam & Firecrackers,
Viny

On Pride, Prejudice, and Being Poly in Public

Dear Viny,

I have been married for 25 years, and for the past two years I have also been in a committed relationship with another woman, who is also happily married. Both of my love relationships are open, honest, healthy, and thriving, and I consider myself blessed to have the extended family that I do, with all the community benefits thereof.

I have not always been poly, and in fact such relationships were completely off my radar until about ten years ago, when it became clear to me and my wife that we had gradually, over the course of our marriage, developed a pronounced mis-match in terms of our erotic/sexual appetites and predilections (I wanted it; she didn’t). At that time, after much discussion, we agreed that I would try to get my needs met outside of our marriage. It was then that I discovered the world of “alternative” relationships and couplings (and what a wide and varied world it is – bless you, OKCupid!). Here and there I dated, and in the process my wife and I gradually learned to deal with jealousy and other issues specifically related to poly relationships. I believe that because of this work, we are better individuals, and better partners for each other.

Not everyone sees things this way, however, and herein lies my problem. When I was monogamous, I could discuss my relationship freely, without fear of judgment. Now that I am in two love relationships, I hesitate to discuss the totality of my family situation with anyone other than my closest friends and family members for fear of judgment and suspicion. Many people see the poly paradigm as evidence of instability or immaturity; they assume impending doom. My experience demonstrates just the opposite, and I would love to share my experience openly. How should I proceed?

Best,

"Soap-box Ready"

***

Dear Ready,

I'm tickled every shade of rosy by your question, because it has such a simple answer. If you've ever taken a creative writing class, this will be a well-worn cliché, but it's the best advice I can offer you:

Show, don't tell.

Let me amend that slightly: Show, don't tell...until asked.

The most effective way to share your experience is to share it directly. You don't need to explain the ins and outs of your complicated love life to people you're worried will judge you. All you need to do is give them opportunities to see you and your extended family just being yourselves.

Personally, I am a fan of public displays of poly affection. No, I am not suggesting you pile four to a park bench for a group grope, or round-robin fondle each of your partners in front of the waitstaff at a nice restaurant. I'm talking about behavior that would normally be considered appropriate in public – except for the small fact that it completely subverts the monogamous paradigm.

I recently went to a holiday office party with my boyfriend and his wife. Although a couple of his colleagues know the whole story, most do not. The three of us interacted the way we normally would: we sat near each other, we touched one another occasionally, and just generally gave off a “we're all in this together” vibe. Because I had never met most of the people there, I got asked a few questions, and I answered them candidly. But of course, no one asked me, “So, wait – if you have a husband at home, then what are you doing here with these people?” No one asked my boyfriend, “Are you actually fucking them both?” And no one asked my boyfriend's wife, “Are you fucking them both?” That wouldn't have been polite. You can usually count on people to be polite in public, unless they have a truly staggering amount of alcohol in their system.

Later, in a more private setting, they may ask for an explanation. At that point, you've been given an invitation, and can share as openly as you like. In some cases, you may choose not to share very much. The week after the holiday party, my boyfriend was cornered by one of the office staff, who half-jokingly demanded to know what was going on: “So who was that other woman you brought? Your girlfriend?” He laughed and responded, “Let's just say she's a really good friend, and leave it at that,” which was the professional thing to do. However, if he had been asked a similar question by someone with whom he had a closer relationship, someone with whom he felt more comfortable sharing the details of his personal life, he would have been able tell his story to a listener who was already open to hearing what he had to say.

Here's the thing: effective communication requires openness on the part of the speaker and the listener. If you are talking to a person who has already decided you are on your way to hell in a handbasket, there is nothing you can say to change his or her mind. No matter how good your argument is, it will fail to persuade someone who isn't listening.

Most people have very strong opinions on the subject of intimate relationships. They think they know what works and what doesn't. If you tell them you are making it work with a wife and a girlfriend, they simply aren't going to believe you. However, if you show them you are making it work with a wife and a girlfriend, they will be dying to know exactly how you do it.

A note of caution: don't allow yourself to become too image-conscious. When you're in the spotlight, it's quite natural to want to look your best – but remember, your life is not a performance. Since there is no way you can keep your chin up, your shoulders back, and your gut sucked in for the rest of your life, you might as well keep it real.

Dandelions & Delight,

Viny

Open and Shut: Must I Admit to Dating a Married Woman?

Dear Viny,

I'm in a relationship with a woman who is in an open marriage. Of course I'm fine with that (otherwise I wouldn't have started the relationship). But I don't see the need to advertise the fact that she's someone else's wife, so when I've introduced her to certain people in my life I've kind of implied that she's not married. Now she says this makes her uncomfortable. But it seems like by not divulging the nature of our relationship I'm saving those other people from being uncomfortable. We seem to be at an impasse about this.

– M.E.

***

 

Dear M.E.,

What exactly do you mean, you have “kind of implied” your married lover isn't married? And who, exactly, are the people you have introduced her to? I don't think context is everything, but it certainly helps most people distinguish between behavior that's reasonable and behavior that's totally uncool.

Let's say your Great Aunt Gertrude calls you up and querulously inquires, once again, whether you are ever going to find yourself a nice girl and settle down. You reply that you're actually dating someone wonderful, but you neglect to mention that settling down with this particular girl would mean also settling down with the nice boy she married. This is called glossing over inconvenient facts.

Let's say you and your honey check into a Bed and Breakfast, and the nauseatingly cheerful folks who run the place want to know every blooming thing about you – how long you've been together, where you live, whether you have any children, what you think of the deplorable lack of morality among our country's young people today, etc. You make up something plausible just to get them off your back. This is called none of their beeswax.

Let's say the two of you run into a group of your friends at the local karaoke bar, and they're all excited because they finally get to meet the girlfriend they've heard so much about: “So this is the famous Pookie!” You expect her to spend the next three hours pretending she doesn't have a husband. You also expect her to keep up the ruse in future social situations with these people, and to avoid accepting any friend requests from them because her Facebook relationship status contradicts what you've implied about her. This is called being a dick.

You say you don't have a problem with your lover's open marriage, but I'm not sure I believe you. You claim to be primarily concerned about avoiding discomfort for other people, but it seems that your real concern is avoiding your own feelings of discomfort. I have to ask: are you really cut out for the relationship you're in?

Listen, I don't think you need to get into the nitty-gritty details with everyone who might be scandalized by them. However, I do think you ought to be aware of the potential difficulties you and your lover may run into if you give other people an inaccurate impression of the nature of your relationship. I also think you should attempt to understand where she is coming from: if you're always presenting her to others as someone she's not, you inadvertently give her the message that you are ashamed of the person she actually is.

Your situation reminds me of something that happened to me a few years back. My then-boyfriend had been invited to dinner at the home of an elderly couple he knew, and they had told him he was welcome to bring a date. So he brought me. He felt that it would be best if we just didn't mention the fact that I had a husband and two kids, and I willingly agreed to play “suitably single” for the evening. I enjoy a good acting challenge, and I'm not opposed to a bit of intrigue. In reality, though, it was a far more difficult role than I had anticipated. I found it almost impossible to carry on a semi-normal conversation without telling outright lies about myself. I spent the whole evening dodging questions, cleverly obfuscating, and chewing vigorously. I was so relieved when that dinner was over!

Unfortunately, the end of the evening was only the beginning of the awkwardness. A few months later, relatives of my husband's came to town, and they wanted me and my husband to meet some dear old friends of theirs, who happened to be – you guessed it! – the same sweet couple I'd already met with my boyfriend.

Yeah. It was quite the comedy of errors, and I vowed I would appear as no one but myself in future productions.

All things considered, M.E., I'm going to have to side with your lover on this one. Please give her my regards.

Creampuffs & Confetti,

Viny