Tonight, I had a startling realization. I’ve been in open relationships for the last ten years. Kinda, sorta. Entirely by accident.

You see, for the past decade I’ve jumped from one situationship to another, very rarely making it to the dreaded ‘what are we?’ chat. And if we did get there, one or other of us would usually run for the hills.

But tonight, it dawned on me that what I’ve actually been doing all this time is putting myself in open relationships. 

Because modern dating dictates that if you’re not technically boyfriend and girlfriend, then you’re free to sleep with other people.

And I did. And they did.

For someone who has always ranted about how I don’t believe open relationships really work, thanks to generous friends sharing their horror stories, interviews with divorce lawyers and plenty of statistics, I’ve now realized I’ve been a willing participant in them for years.

I turned a blind eye to rumors and gossip about the men I was dating. And I certainly didn’t divulge my own dalliances either.

So yes, technically, I’ve been in open relationships for a very long time.

I turned a blind eye to rumours and gossip about the men I was dating. And I certainly didn’t divulge my own dalliances either.

For the past decade I’ve jumped from one situationship to another, very rarely making it to the dreaded ‘what are we?’ chat

And how did I stumble upon this realization?

Well, I recently found myself going on quite a few dates with just one man. I know. Bravo me.

We went on wildly romantic dates, spent entire weekends together, met each other’s friends. It all felt very green flag. And after two and a half months of dating, a few red wines deep, I decided it was time to tell him I wanted us to be exclusive.

I’m an anxious avoidant, so vulnerability doesn’t come naturally. But I put my big girl panties on and I did it.

His reaction, however, did not follow the script I’d been playing in my head. The one where he smiles, looks relieved and tells me he’d love that.

Nope.

His first response was a very clear no, followed by, ‘Let’s talk about it in the morning.’

By morning, I’d already high-tailed it out of there.

Mortified by his reaction, there was no way I was sticking around to hear him reaffirm his desire to keep sleeping with other people. My sensitive heart wanted absolutely no part in that.

When he woke up and later chastised me for leaving, I felt awful.

So, a week later, we went on a long walk, and he explained that he’d been married twice, for most of his adult life, and now that he was finally out of those relationships, he needed more time to be by himself.

He also reminded me that his last marriage had been open and that he wasn’t exactly opposed to that arrangement.