How Do I Stop Wanting to Cheat?

To my astonishment, I’ve so far resisted these impulses. Can I rely on my moral compass forever, or am I one Cosmo away from disaster? Should I bring up the shocking and destabilizing possibility of an open relationship in the context of my monogamous relationship, or do I simply police myself in silence? Do I seek therapy or catharsis? Is this even normal? — WANTON WOMAN

Cheryl Strayed: I think you’re “one Cosmo away from disaster,” if by disaster you mean acting upon your desires. As I wrote in my book “Tiny Beautiful Things”: “You can’t fake the core. The truth that lives there will eventually win out.” And you, Wanton Woman — right now, in this relationship — are faking it. So let the truth win out. You love your boyfriend, but you loathe the constraints that your relationship with him places upon you. You see a future with him, but you want a lot of other men in your present. Tell your boyfriend these truths and see where it leads you. It could be an open relationship, it could be a breakup, or it could be that the two of you talk about what you truly long for in your erotic lives and you find a way to get it while remaining monogamous. The value of such a conversation isn’t only that it’s a good idea to be honest with your partner, but also because it’s miserable to pretend to be or want something that you aren’t or don’t. The sort of agony you’re experiencing right now seldom disappears on its own. In most cases, there are only two ways out of it. You either bring about disaster by some manner of reckless behavior, or you tell the truth. You’ll be so much better off in the long run if you find the courage to do the latter.

Steve Almond: I want to say a quick word about your signoff. In short: I think the adjective “wanton” is a patriarchal trap, one that has long been used to stigmatize (if not criminalize) feminine sexuality. Don’t fall for it. Your sexuality belongs to you and nobody else. Your job is to own it. That means, as Cheryl suggests, being honest about your desires. Policing yourself into silence is almost never a good idea. Our urges don’t go away because we ignore them, after all. They become spring-loaded with the force of our suppression. You need to speak with your wonderful boyfriend, the one you tell us is not the least bit jealous. But before you do that, I’d urge you to identify precisely what your desires are. Do you want to engage in sexual acts with other men? Or do you want to partake in the initial stages of the seduction? There are plenty of people in your situation — people who love their partners but also feel compelled to seek out erotic energy from other sources. There’s nothing more normal, frankly. The challenge for you is to be upfront about your urges. Deceit will curdle a happy relationship much quicker than a high-octane libido.

Strayed: You already understand that it’s the “seductive dance” you crave rather than sex. Like Steve, I encourage you to examine that more deeply. What is that dance, after all, but a tremendous affirmation that one is attractive, longed for, temporarily powerful and possibly loved? Perhaps the sexual attention you receive from men serves as a proxy for your self-esteem. That was certainly true for me when I was in my 20s. Back then, I had what you have now: a man I loved and a profound desire for a multitude of other men to assure me that I was special by locking eyes with me across a room. I believed myself to be the label you’ve given yourself, Wanton Woman, but I now understand that I was wrong. I wasn’t wanton. I was famished. I had a hole to fill, and it wasn’t in my pants. In order to figure that out, I had to let go of the man I loved and eventually the throng of seductive men as well. Maybe that’s true for you, too. Your conundrum about the men in your life might only be answered once you more fully solve the riddle of yourself.

Almond: One thing we know from our infidelity series is that long-term monogamy always invites a paradox. Intimacy relies on familiarity and repetition, while desire thrives on novelty and the unknown. That’s why you feel that special electricity when you flirt with someone new. As Cheryl notes, these desires may be trying to tell you that you’re not quite ready to settle down. But it’s also possible that you and your partner can find a way to integrate your desires into the life you share. This may involve changing the terms of the relationship, and/or finding ways to inject a sense of adventure and mystery into it. To this end, I recommend reading Ester Perel’s wonderful book, “Mating in Captivity,” which argues that traditional monogamy doesn’t have to be a death sentence to your erotic imagination, nor even a prison. Your boyfriend may be fine with you exploring your sexuality. But chances are, his feelings will be more complicated, and that you’ll be asked to make some decisions about what you’re willing to sacrifice. The only way to know is to confess the contents of your heart to him. You two have some decisions to make. I urge you to make them together, in a spirit of love and respect.