Ella Jacobs – author

When I opened up a relationship nine years ago, it ended in a mess and a break-up. I spent the next seven years thinking I was monogamous and was sure I was never going to do that again – that I’m not capable of having feelings for two men at the same time. Yet here I am, doing it again. But it’s not that I don’t remember the mess and the turmoil of the first time. It’s because I’ve learned that the first time, I did it for the wrong reasons. Back then, I was trying to open up a crumbling relationship – venturing into unchartered waters on a ship full of holes. This time though, my ship was strong and sturdy, keeping me steady even as stormy winds tried to break my sails.

This is the first part of two blog posts, and it tells the story of how I tried to open up a relationship for the wrong reasons.

When I met my Dom, S, nine years ago, I was in a semi-open relationship with my then-boyfriend, who wasn’t into BDSM – even though he tried to be. Semi because I didn’t have free reins to see other men. My ex had to be comfortable with any other man I wanted to see, and he set the boundaries – no sex until he was comfortable with it for instance.

My boyfriend and I had just joined a BDSM club six months earlier, and I was quickly learning that I craved this new world even more than I’d thought and that he didn’t fit in even though he’d tried to fulfill my submissive desires for years.

Opening up was an attempt to see if I could get my submissive desires sated somewhere else. It was an attempt at saving a crumbling relationship, but at the time, I didn’t realize that it was already falling apart. And what should have saved our relationship eventually became the end. But BDSM was only part of the reason. So many things were off in that relationship that not even a fulfilling relationship with a Dom on the side could have fixed all the issues.

Knowing opening up could cause a lot of strain on our relationship, we went in slowly. No sex to begin with, my boyfriend set the boundaries, and I could only play with guys he was comfortable with.

It was easy enough for me to find someone to play with. Polyamory is very common in the lifestyle and so are different kinds of play arrangements. Most people have sex with their play partners, but most people can enjoy BDSM without sex too, so the limitations weren’t an obstacle. But when I met the man who I now call my Dom and boyfriend, S, it very much became a frustration.

The chemistry was instant. The night I met S, he set my submissive desires ablaze with a single look from across the bar. We hadn’t even spoken a word to each other. All it took was a few shared looks.

At this point, I had played with a couple of other guys, but it had mostly been SM – pain and pleasure. What I truly craved was someone who wanted my submission and knew how to take it. Someone who made me want to fall to my knees and obey their every command. And this need came raging when I played with S for the first time. Still, no sex, touching in intimate areas, or going naked.

I had been fine with the no sex part with the other guys I’d played with, but it became increasingly harder to play with S without getting the gratification of being together sexually. And really, everything became harder as I delved deeper into this dynamic that was like coming home.

I felt myself slipping farther and farther away from my boyfriend, and soon, I found that the only thing I could talk to him about was this new exciting thing, opening up and exploring BDSM. I think that we both slowly realized that things weren’t going to work out between us, yet we kept hoping, holding on for different reasons.

Slowly, my boyfriend loosened the reins, not wanting to get in the way of me exploring this new thing –  or maybe still hoping it could make me stay with him.

I started seeing my Dom regularly, spending the night with him after a scene and even whole weekends at his place. The chemistry was intense, and I was in seventh heaven when we were together. Finally, I got to live out this raging urge that had been bubbling and beating to get out since before I even had sex for the first time. But the excitement came with uncertainties and anxiety. Because it became still more clear that the end of my first relationship was closing in.

I had told my boyfriend that I wasn’t sure I could stay with him, and I’d told S that I considered leaving my boyfriend. But I was too scared to go through with it. Scared of the change – leaving the guy I had spent five years thinking I was going to marry and have kids with – scared of being on my own for the first time, scared that this new man, who I was crazy about, wouldn’t want to keep seeing me. After all, our dynamic had started as a plaything; I had no idea whether he’d want more or if he’d feel like he was the cause of my crumbling relationship and thus couldn’t keep seeing me.

What a mess!

It was S who gave me the push I needed, saying it was time to make a decision. And finally, I took the last step and told my boyfriend it was over. And to my great relief, S wanted to keep seeing me, and our relationship quickly became so much more than a mere plaything.

Since the breakup, I’ve spent seven years thinking open relationships wasn’t for me – convinced I was monogamous. But the fantasy of being with two men, which I’ve always had, remained, and when my Dom and I decided to explore it a year and a half ago, I found out that I can indeed have feelings for two men at the same time. The first time I had opened up a relationship was simply for the wrong reasons.

Read the next post here to see how S and I delved into MfM play and I became polyamorous.