I’m going to write Part 2 of the “Why I don’t like condoms” article.

And I still need to write Part 3 of the Burning Man story.

In the meantime, I’m increasingly pondering whether monogamy — and possibly even commitment — is a defense. Not unlike condoms.

This is coming up because Burning Man Guy and I have been seeing a lot of each other, and we’re considering whether we’re now in an “open” relationship.

The conversations have been fairly humorous.

Him: I’m too wild to be tamed, even by a priestess. Although you’re not doing too bad.

Me: Lol I’m not trying to tame you.

Him: I know. You get me purring tho.

Me: I have enough of my own feelings much less attempt to tame yours.

And later he said: You’re up for an open relationship?

Me: Yes aren’t we both trying to work out this polyamory thing?

Later I said: I don’t see how we could have any kind of non-open relationship cuz I don’t want to put any energy into worrying if you’d be with other women.

We’ll see what happens, but what I’m noticing is how much the idea of monogamy feels like a defense to me. It feels like it creates fear where none was there before.

What, exactly, would I be “protecting” by putting those kinds of rules on another human being? And would I really be protecting anything, or would I just be setting myself up for stress and disappointment?

If Burning Man Guy is utterly free to have sex with whomever he wants, then I don’t need to police what he’s doing. I don’t need to feel that my trust was betrayed if he connects with someone else. It becomes impossible for him to “cheat.” I haven’t created a line, so there’s no line to cross.

“If I defend, I am attacked.”

It’s worth pondering.