Preaching to the Converted: A Reasonable Expectation

As I pedaled through the West Village on my bike ride recently, I came across a poster taped to a pole on the corner of Christopher Street and the West Side Highway.

“Is Monogamy Reasonable?” it asked. I spent the next 19 miles riding and contemplating that concept. Given where it was positioned, across the street from a building that has housed at least four different gay bars that I know of, mere blocks from Stonewall and Sheridan Square, and at the west end of the, dare I say, gayest part of Manhattan, I can be forgiven for thinking that the question was directed squarely at gay men.

And gay men are really the only demographic for which this question is, well, reasonable. While cheating or open relationships happen in other male/female configurations, gay men are the only group where you can often here open and loud challenges to the notion that monogamy is at least the desired state for relationships, if not an imperative.

“Men just aren’t wired that way.”

“I’m going to cheat anyway so why not at least be honest about it.”

“Monogamy is for straight people”

I’ve heard these arguments and more. As a result, many male couples either immediately or ultimately come to the conclusion to ‘open’ their relationships. Translation? Allowing both partners to seek sex outside the relationship, or at very least, introduce third (or fourth, fifth…) parties into their dyad. It is probably even more common than we know that gay couples have come to a negotiated peace about their sexual lives together.

For me, it’s nothing more than arrested development. Part of being in a relationship is about the single act of saying “This is the person I choose. And I choose you, by definition, to the exclusion of other people.”

While I agree that there is a difference between sex and love, and probably a thicker one for men than women, it still isn’t enough for me to buy the argument that open relationships are somehow equal or preferable to ‘closed’ or monogamous ones.

Part of my beliefs about this is shaped by example. This always causes a certain set of friends to launch into a laundry list of successful open relationships they know or to call me a sexual fascist, but I’m going to say it anyway: I have never seen an open relationship that genuinely works. There have been some I’ve known where the people are still together. But from where I’m standing, an accommodation so deep must be made that there is a separation—a margin—that exists in their intimacy. Which is exactly counter-intuitive to what a singular love relationship is supposed to be.

For many, many more open relationships I’ve witnessed, they’ve just exploded. Often spectacularly.

In either case, a tortured set of ground rules must be set, often so compartmentalized and mitigated they border on the comical. “I’m allowed to sleep with someone if I’m out of town, the day of the week starts with a T, and the person is wearing blue, red or green.” But no matter what the rules might be, someone always steps over the line. And why? Because there is a line. You’ve already mitigated your relationship, so the logic of “I can sleep with someone else at these times but not these other times” becomes as ridiculous and unworkable as it sounds.

When I’ve said this to certain friends and acquaintances, I’ve been told that I must not have a very high sex drive or that I’m ashamed of my sexuality. Neither of these things is true. Not to reveal too many details, but the phrase “Ken didn’t have enough casual sex” will never be included in any biography written about me.

I just have always believed that being single is the time to do what, and who, you want. Why, I would wonder, be in a relationship if I’m not committed to the very idea of what a relationship is supposed to be? So I wasn’t. Maybe it’s because all the examples in my family of only monogamous couples. At least as far as I know, neither my parents nor either of my sisters have had to deal with cheating. I know monogamy is reasonable because I’ve seen it.

But a lot of gay men want the milk and the cow. But the problem is, someone always breaks the rules. Someone always gets their feelings hurt. Someone always finds themselves lying to their partner. Someone always finds someone who is hotter, richer or better in bed than their partner. By introducing other people into your relationship, you’re also throwing a big fistful of risk into it as well.

The on-bike rumination came at a timely moment, as today is mine and Phil’s 4-year anniversary. One of the things that brought us together from the very beginning was a common belief in monogamy. I know for me, it provides a level of peace and comfort that is one of the best outcomes from being in a relationship. I don’t have to worry about Phil coming home and saying “I fell in love with someone else.” I know neither of us are putting ourselves in the path of that.

It’s not always easy. Everyone has needs. But to be perfectly honest, it’s not nearly as tough as a lot of gay men say it is. Here’s what I do: I just think about the look of hurt and pain on Phil’s face if he were to discover I’ve been unfaithful. If I genuinely love him, that image alone should be enough to compel me to keep it in my pants.