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She was terrifying. A tall, blonde, vegan who was seven years younger than me – and she never wore a bra. She was my husband’s girlfriend.

My husband Per and I were exploring Consensual Non-Monogamy (CNM), which is an umbrella term for non-monogamy that includes open communication, mutual care, and consent. The learning process was uncomfortable. We had dabbled in friends-with-benefits relationships while Per and I were in a long-distance relationship. But neither of us had ever sought a relationship in the way Per was now dating his girlfriend. And this new shift was uncomfortable.

They met on a dating app and their first date was a long walk on the beach. They exchanged Bernie chica rusa de los americanos memes, while my friends and I spent our weekends campaigning for Elizabeth Warren. Per came home giddy and I hated it. I resented the way he smiled when his phone buzzed. She was everything I’m not: a great cook, a carefree spirit with free time and excess energy – and she was even a better gardener than me.

After they were dating for a few weeks, all three of us met for a drink at a run-down bar on the harbor. I wore a flowing yellow dress that showed off at least four inches of cleavage. I put on new lipstick and clenched my jaw. She arrived wearing a colorful flowing dress as well. She wasn’t wearing a bra, of course. She was certainly tall, blonde, and beautiful. Continua a leggere