As a family therapist, I believe that a successful couple's relationship requires mutual commitment, emotional intimacy, and a sense of partnership that acts like an invisible boundary, however loose and ambiguous, between a couple and the outside world. As a family therapist who's gay, however, I know that conventional norms of long-term commitment and sexual exclusivity are often highly controversial relationship goals for many male couples. The traumatic experience of most gay men in growing up in a homophobic culture, along with their conscious struggle to liberate themselves and forge new kinds of relationships, have led many to reject the conventions of heterosexual couples. Indeed, many gay couples openly break the most hallowed of these conventions by espousing and living in "open relationships," in which either or both partners are free to explore and enjoy outside sexual encounters. This disregard of convention can be looked upon almost as a source of pride and liberation.
Within the gay community, as a therapist who questions the meaning of nonmonogamous relationships, I believe this stance can be considered akin to political betrayal. To suggest that sexually open relationships are not necessarily only a lifestyle choice, but may reflect fears of intimacy and commitment, is regarded by some as tantamount to dismissing gay relationships or, even worse, pathologizing gay men.
Men in our society, regardless of sexual orientation, have been raised to feel more reticent than women of revealing a need for intimacy and tenderness. This fear of appearing emotionally vulnerable is exacerbated in gay men by widespread social attitudes that, in their formative years, have labeled them "effeminate" or "sissies." Many gay men have experienced shaming experiences during the early course of their gay identity development, most often from other males--either father figures or peers. When gay men finally acknowledge their desire for a partner, the joy in the experience is often tempered by a fear of repetition of earlier traumatic rejections. An open relationship can be a way for a gay man to defend against exposing his need for closeness and nurturance from his partner, and to protect himself from possible rejection.
Nonetheless, I'm convinced that all successful couples--gay and straight--must learn to balance their need for closeness and distance, intimacy and freedom. And for a couple to survive the developmental milestones of their relationships they must have an ability to accept and express vulnerability, commitment and mutual trust. This does not mean that I believe my role is to express a dogmatic stance categorically opposed to open relationships. I consider it part of my task as a therapist to help a couple explore what needs, sexual or otherwise, are not being met in the relationship, and to determine whether the interest in an open relationship is a response to those unfulfilled needs. I take a nonjudgmental stance about the kind of relationship they construct. If neither is endangering himself or others, I do not define my role as cop but as "provocateur." Rather than focus on the issue of sexual exclusivity, my goal is to reflect the dynamics I observe and introduce novelty into the couple's ways of relating. For gay men, given our history of trauma, this often means introducing behavior that promotes emotional openness. Couples therapy is often gay men's first opportunity to have their relationship legitimized. It can be deeply moving to see a gay couple experience for the first time what it means to openly express needs for closeness and the desire both to nurture and be nurtured by another man. Therapy can help two men learn how to feel safe with each other, express for perhaps the first time desires to be close, and feel a profound sense of validation in the eyes of another.
Sam and Luke, both in their mid-40s, had been together for 8 years when they came to see me. Luke was warm and eager to
engage with me. Sam was polite but distant. Both men were successful businessmen and each traveled for work
regularly.When I asked them what had brought them to couples therapy, Luke was very vocal about his dissatisfaction with
Sam, saying he'd come to treatment to dissolve their relationship. When I asked, "Why now?" Luke firmly but with great
sadness said, "I'm tired of struggling with Sam. He never gives in. I buy a couch that's the wrong color for him and he refuses
to sit on it. He's always arguing with me. I want someone who'll love me and not always be trying to control me!"
Sam gave a measured response to Luke's outburst, brushing aside Luke's emotional statement about ending their relationship
with the comment that it was Luke who was too controlling. I was perplexed by Sam's calm demeanor. "Sam, you don't
appear to be upset by Luke's desire to leave. In fact, you seemed to be smiling as he was talking about his frustrations. Is his
plan news to you? Do you want to save your relationship?" Sam cleared his throat and turned to me as if he was addressing a
jury, "He'll do what he wants. What can I do to stop him?"
I began to wonder whether the men had ever created an identity as a couple or learned to accommodate each other's needs. As Luke continued to elaborate on why he wanted to end their relationship with examples of how he felt controlled by Sam, it became clearer to me how abandoned, isolated, and resentful he felt.
I began to take a history of their relationship. They had met on a blind date, each right out of college, and had immediately begun an intense relationship. Like most gay men, neither had had any of the opportunities for socialization, sexual experimentation and courting rituals that are taken for granted by the majority culture. They'd had an opened relationship since the early days of their courtship and had adopted "a don't ask, don't tell" policy regarding outside sexual encounters. While Luke said he'd have preferred to have kept the relationship closed, Sam had been adamantly opposed to that. To avoid conflict, Luke agreed to the open boundaries, but insisted that other partners couldn't be brought to their home.
Though both Sam and Luke had experienced similar isolation, both were fortunate to have their respective families acknowledge and support their relationship. However, their families were very different. Sam talked about growing up in a family in which he'd been out of touch with any sexual feelings until he was away at college. His family was both overly protective and intrusive, continually meddling in each other's lives. There were no secrets, and Sam often felt overwhelmed as a child by his parents' exaggerated emotionality. Although it was clear that Sam had grown up in a loving and caring family, I asked how his family's intrusiveness influenced the way he expressed his own needs to Luke. He replied that he was afraid of becoming like his parents and suffocating Luke with his own emotional neediness.
Luke shared with Sam the absence of dating or gay socialization experiences until he went away to college, but he grew up in a family with a totally different dynamic. Everyone in his family was expected to pull his or her own weight on their farm and emotional expressiveness was downplayed. Talking about feelings and openly disagreeing with one another were discouraged. He had no model for how a couple negotiated differences.
Luke's stoic, independent family was an extreme contrast to Sam's overly emotional family. I framed this complementarity as a potential strength for the couple, saying Sam and found a partner respectful of his boundaries and Luke found a partner who could be expressive. Both men were intrigued by my comments. Seeing they were engaged by this concept, I added, "Sam, your fear of overwhelming Luke with your emotions may not be having the intended effect; instead of giving him freedom, you're robbing him of the opportunity to take care of you." Although Sam had developed a good poker player's face, the expression of uncertainty in his eyes as he looked at me revealed he was less than sure of his stoic role.
Sam and Luke seemed caught in distancer/pursuer roles and simultaneously in a struggle to see who would control the relationship. Neither of these dynamics are idiosyncratic to gay couples, but they're exacerbated with a male couple by gender expectations and gay identity development. Compromise and collaboration are often seen as weaknesses in men, while determination to lead and dominate are culturally rewarded male traits. In other words, both partners are socialized to be "top dog." The result is that in male couples therapy, I often see couples either prone to conflict avoidance or expressing a desire to disconnect at the first signs of disagreements.
Although Sam and Luke had agreed to an open relationship, only Sam reported having causal sex outside the relationship. But Luke complained exclusively about the struggles with Sam over the purchase of furniture and their ensuing power struggles. In a typical interaction, Luke would say that he felt "punished" by Sam for choosing the wrong colors. Sam would respond by dismissing Luke's remark, reassuring me that he always let Luke make decorating decisions. He just didn't agree with Luke's choices! Luke then would throw up his hands, saying, "I give up. I'm going to find my own apartment." Sam would shrug his shoulders in defeat, "What can I do? He's made up his mind."
I told Sam, "If you want to save your marriage, you may want to do something different. I think Luke's threatening to end the relationship is a desperate cry for help. Have you ever got him to talk about his dreams for the two of you?" I encouraged Sam to invite Luke to talk about what he wanted out of their union. In the next session, Luke said he'd like to read a letter he'd written to Sam. When I asked him why he'd chosen to write a letter, he said he didn't want to become too emotional and irrational in front of Sam. As Luke read the letter, he cried as he talked about wanting to feel safe with Sam and not always be afraid that he'd do something that created a power struggle. Although Luke's language was an invitation for closeness, his tone was accusatory. Both the overtly emotional language of the letter and Luke's emotionality in reading it--including his implied blame---frightened Sam, who experienced it as a personal attack. The intervention went nowhere.
I then chose to take another tack, addressing the open boundaries of their relationship, believing a similar dynamic of distancer/pursuer would be operative there. I asked Sam what he got from anonymous sex partners that he wasn't getting from Luke. Sam dismissed my question and labeled his behavior as compulsive sex that had nothing to do with Luke. I persisted. "I wonder if going outside the relationship for sex might be a response to some fear you have that Luke will disappoint you? Have you ever told Luke how lonely you are or perhaps even how frightened you are by his voice? Maybe 'compulsive sex' is a way for you to medicate your loneliness and not turn to Luke for help?"
Over the following few sessions, Sam tried to get physically and emotionally closer to Luke as he fumbled to discover a language to express his feelings of love for Luke. This was definitely new behavior for Sam, and he often reverted to the "war room" idioms of his financial profession. But now, Luke was unmoved. Luke appeared caught in the role of the abandoned one and was inflexible in his own willingness to respond to Sam's attempts at new behavior. Within a few sessions, Luke took his own apartment on a short-term lease to see if living alone might give him freedom from Sam's controlling actions. Somehow the physical separation seemed to give them permission to be more emotionally open with each other. Luke became much more self-assertive about his desire for a monogamous relationship and Sam agreed, saying he was committed to saving his relationship with Luke and was willing to do this for him. Luke also encouraged Sam to be more vocal about his emotional needs as Sam began to express his sadness over their living apart.
Both men continue to negotiate their relationship from the temporary safety of separate apartments. This change only occurred as I was willing to challenge the "don't ask, don't tell" policy of their relationship that was diluting the potential for both men to feel closer. In many ways, Sam and Luke are finally learning traditional lessons about mutual commitment, trust, and intimacy-- experiences with other men they missed during their adolescent years. While still a "work in progress," I believe both are learning how to transcend their fear of intimacy and have a better shot at forging a relationship of mutual trust and love-- a relationship that they both desperately want.
Couples therapy is often the first opportunity in many gay men's lives to have their relationship acknowledged for their inherent strengths as they experiment with new behaviors. For Sam and Luke, the therapy became a safe place where Luke could try out being more adamant about his needs for exclusivity and closeness, and Sam could experiment with being more vulnerable with Luke. It gave them a chance to express for perhaps the first time desires to be close to each other and feel a profound sense of validation in the eyes of each other. But the therapy also required me, to be transparent about what I thought they needed to do to expand their capacity for mutual intimacy and openness-including the honest expression of my observations about the impact of an open relationship on the couple's well being. Though I needed to monitor my interventions carefully to avoid any possibility of shaming the couple, I also needed to be authentic in sharing my experience of them. After all, how can I expect my clients to experience authentic relationship with each other, if I am afraid to be authentic with them myself?
I agree with David Greenan's analysis of why many male couples are not sexually exclusive, and of how nonmonogamy can damage relationships. At the same time that I am, like Greenan, nonjudgemental about a couple's choices about their sexual life, I also ask every couple I work with how they reached their decision regarding monogamy, and how each felt about the process, and how each currently feels currently about monogamy. In this case, when Luke reported that he'd have preferred a closed relationship, I'd have asked why he acquiesced on this issue. Did he fear that if he didn't the relationship might end? Such questions cam probe important issues about power in relationships and how it is expressed and negotiated.
There is one area that is glaring in its omission from this case summary: the specifics of San and Luke's sex life. I always ask couples explicitly how they each feel about their sexual relationship, how often they're sexually active, and how often they are physically affectionate without having sex. Inviting couples to share their feelings about their sex life in this way helps them examine whether the decision to open their relationship sexually is based on actual sexual incompatibility or is a smoke screen for not being willing or able to communicate directly about other loaded relationship issues.
A common rational for why gay men choose to go outside their primary relationship for sex is that after a certain amount of time the sex is not just as hot as it used to be. In this case, it would have been useful to have asked explicitly about the current level of sexual passion between Sam and Luke and how it may have changed as the relationship progressed. For instance if both acknowledged that their sex is still hot, I'd want to know why they wanted outside sex. If they report that the sexual passion had waned, I'd want to hear their thoughts about the reasons why.
One aspect of working with gay men in nonhomophobic ways is to recognize that there are different cultural norms about
sex and monogamy within the gay men's community just as there are in mainstream heterosexual culture. Yet this does not
mean that the therapist should not help clients take a close look at whether nonmonogamy is a viable choice or just another
way of acting out unresolved issues pertaining to vulnerability, fears of intimacy or male privilege.
Key Words: gay men, male couples, gay male couples, gay male sexuality, monogamy, nonmonogamy, sexual exclusiveness, couples therapy, couples counseling