Exploring ethical non-monogamy and vaginismus
Written by Allyson
"Hey, I completely understand if you want to open up the relationship and sleep with other people."
So many of us have had a variation of that talk, hoping to release the pressure in the relationship and help fulfill our partner's desire for penetrative sex. Because if they can have sex with someone else, maybe you won't feel so guilty about holding them back.
But where do those thoughts come from? Is an open relationship what you want? Or have you spent a lifetime believing that your selfworth is linked to your sexual performance? And that fear of rejection bundled with your partners' disappointed sighs when you tell them, yet again, that your body is exhausted and not ready. What happens when that conversation doesn't have to come from a place of fear? But from a place of safety and exploration.
My introduction to Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) didn't come from an ethical place. It came from someone who lied to me about being in a polyamorous relationship. After many late-night, soft declarations of love and promises to treat me with care, he was my first experience with partial PIV intercourse. The discovery of betrayal was a major setback in my progress with vaginismus, which quickly worsened.
Fortunately, I had many close friends who practiced ENM. So instead of this incident completely turning me away from the idea or leaving me feeling unworthy, it gave me the grace to learn about ENM. Eventually, identifying as polyamorous became one of the most freeing steps I could take in my vaginismus journey.
Dating conversations moved from, "Hey, so I think this date is going well, but I have to let you know that penetrative sex is going to be impossible," to "Hey, this date is going well, and I can't wait to meet your partner in person next week." Penetrative sex became something I didn't feel like I needed to worry about because I didn't feel this tremendous pressure to perform.
When I met my husband, I learned he had also had his first sexual experience later in life. It took a lot of work in therapy to have comfortable discussions about ENM. I believe that in any relationship considering ENM, meeting with a couple's therapist first is imperative. Communication is an essential part of the journey; people can get hurt without clear boundaries and expectations. ENM isn't a band-aid to fix the fear of abandonment from your partner. With the inclusion of others, you will need those open communication pathways in place to address the needs of everybody involved.
This warning isn't to scare anyone away. On the contrary, all relationships require different levels of work and communication to succeed. ENM requires a broadening of communication that may not only be specific to you and your primary partner. Learning how to work with others greatly benefited how I communicated my needs with my husband.
Plus, there are so many ways you can define non-monogamy, so it can be as basic or as complex as you would like. For example, my surrogate mom shares a Google Calendar with her partner and metamours (her partner's partners) so everyone can share schedules. My bonus dad, as I call him, is legally married to his wife but had beautiful separate commitment ceremonies with my mom and his other partner. You and your partner could have casual shared or independent sexual partners. Or maybe only one of you has other partners, and the other feels content with only one. There are many unique combinations of non-monogamy, and whatever you choose is suitable as long as everyone involved is informed and consenting.
In my case, I had two sexual surrogates with whom I had been close for years, one of whom was a sex educator. I didn't fear they would leave me if I couldn't achieve penetration. And I had reached the point of healthy communication with my husband, where he could speak to my friends and learn what would work for my body so he could avoid possibly retraumatizing me and provoking my vaginismus.
I have found that people who practice ENM are more likely to be patient and understanding regarding my vaginismus. And the willingness to learn more about my condition and triggers was refreshing when finding a community of, generally, sex-positive folks. I started to feel at ease with the knowledge that I could have sex that was fun and safe.
Now any fear-based concession toward an open relationship only exists when my husband insists on posting a photo to our joint dating account where my afro isn't as fluffy as I would like. But he did look hella cute, so I guess it's okay.
Allyson is a photographer, forensic psychology major, and chicken parent currently writing a book about generational Black trauma and her experience hitchhiking across the country.
