Women Who 'Convinced' Their Partners To Open Their Relationships Share How That Went For Them

For some couples, the most terrifying conversation isn’t “Where is this going?” but “What if we didn’t do this the way everyone else does?”

For people who suggest opening a relationship, the motivation is rarely casual curiosity. It often comes at moments of emotional reckoning. Typically it’s brought up when something feels unsustainable, unspoken or untrue in the relationship. And while non-monogamy is often framed as either getting to have “more sex” or a guaranteed disaster, the reality tends to be far more complex.

Unlike swinging, where sex with others is usually limited to parties and purely physical, or polyamory, where people pursue multiple committed relationships, open relationships fall somewhere in between — allowing sexual freedom while keeping a primary partnership intact.

Research shows open relationships aren’t as uncommon as you might think. About 1 in 5 adults has tried some form of non-monogamy, and surveys suggest younger adults are more open to it than older generations. While only a small percentage are currently in open relationships, growing acceptance and less stigma in media might explain why more people are willing to explore them.

Like most relationships, open relationships are not without its challenges — and rewards. 

Below, relationship experts and coaches share what really happened when they suggested opening their relationships and what they learned along the way.

‘I thought non-monogamy might save my marriage.’

Clinical sex and relationship expert Courtney Boyer suggested opening her marriage after nearly two decades together.

“On our 17th wedding anniversary, I was the one who suggested opening our marriage,” she said. “I believed it was the only way to save our marriage.”

From the outside, her life appeared stable. “On paper and online, my marriage looked wonderful,” she explains. But internally, she felt “incredibly empty and unfulfilled,” carrying the emotional labor of her family while “slowly disappearing from my own life.”

At the time, an open relationship felt less like a lifestyle shift and more like survival. “I saw it as a lifeline,” Boyer said. “I wanted to feel wanted, desired and alive in my body again without blowing up my family.”

The decision itself wasn’t immediate. “It was a long, painful conversation that unfolded over six months,” she explains. What ultimately moved things forward wasn’t logic but the visible change her husband noticed in her: “Every time I talked about non-monogamy, I came back to myself in a way I hadn’t in years, and my husband could not deny the light he saw in my eyes when I did.”

Once the relationship opened, Boyer said, the hope that it would fix everything disappeared. “The fantasy that opening the relationship would fix what was broken fell apart quickly. Instead, everything percolated to the top: resentment, avoidance and emotional distance. Opening didn’t create new problems; it removed the buffers that had kept us from facing the old ones. We could no longer ignore the problems that had led us to where we were.”

She was surprised by the guilt that followed. “Being the one who wanted this, who was dating while my husband wasn’t, triggered so much shame. I also didn’t expect how hard it would be to ask for what I wanted or admit disappointment. Purity culture had taught me to be grateful for crumbs and call it love. My poor relationship with my body also emerged as I began dating and wondering if I was even desirable.”

Over time, their boundaries evolved. “Early on, we relied on distance that gave my husband a sense of safety, predictability and control. He wanted few details and to keep things separate (often referred to as parallel polyamory). Over time, I realised that silence wasn’t safety. Real boundaries required honesty, repair and the willingness to sit with discomfort instead of managing it away.”

There were benefits too: “Well, our sex life exploded. The erotic energy I carried from being able to live authentically overflowed into all facets of my life. This allowed me to connect with my desire, my voice, without feeling shame. I stopped seeing myself only through the lens of being chosen or approved of. Even when it was painful, I felt more alive and more honest than I ever had inside monogamy.”

Opening the relationship also clarified her needs and values. “It showed me how deeply I had been conditioned to self-abandon in order to be loved. I learned that I need emotional presence, curiosity and accountability, not just longevity. I also learned that hoping someone will change is not the same as asking for what you need.”

Looking back, Boyer has no regrets, and said she would choose to do it again. “Yes. A million times, yes. Not because it was easy or because it led to a tidy outcome — but because it brought me back to myself. Opening our marriage cracked open the life I had been enduring and forced me to confront who I actually was. Whatever happens next, I’m no longer living inside a cage I mistook for safety. My husband has also completely transformed because he was finally forced to face his own fears. I’m so proud of the life we’ve created and the chapter of life we’re writing.”

’Opening our relationship showed me what was already broken.’ 

For Ally Iseman, an ICF-certified relationship coach and founder of Passport2Pleasure, the relationship she opened wasn’t a marriage — but it was deeply formative.

“I was two years into an exclusive monogamous relationship,” she said. “I brought it up.”

Her partner traveled often, and the idea of him connecting with others excited her. “What I thought was jealousy I now know to be compersion,” she said, describing joy derived from a partner’s pleasure. “I was wanting to further explore the erotic potential of those feelings in a secure relationship.”

But while the idea felt expansive to her, the conversations, she said, were lacking: “We had a few surface-level conversations that never went particularly well. We didn’t talk about enough specifics, and we both could have done a much better job trying to understand each other.”

When they finally acted on the agreement, the emotional fallout was immediate. “He had the opportunity to connect with someone else while on a work trip, with my full blessing and excitement. They ended up staying up all night talking. I had an opportunity later on while he was away on another trip. … My partner gave me what he called his ‘green light,’ and I had a wonderful time with my friend.”

When Iseman called to check in afterward, she was met with silence — and then anger. “When I called him after leaving my friend’s place, as we had discussed doing, I was overflowing, filled and bursting with love for my partner, but I was met with dead silence on the phone. And then all he said was, ‘I can’t believe you did it.’ He had some pretty serious anger-management issues already, so it was not a fun conversation, nor were the next few weeks.”

Outside reflection helped clarify boundaries. “We sought counsel from the friends who had introduced us, a monogamous married couple. Their reflection was a HUGE catalyst for me, both enabling me to leave what I now know was an abusive relationship, in order to explore my own needs, desires, and sexual and relational identity. They said that even though they could never open up their own marriage in that way, that I was acting within the agreement we had made together. And because of that, they said my partner didn’t have the right to make me wrong for wanting to explore something we agreed to.”

The relationship ended a few weeks later. “That initial partnership ended a few weeks after opening up, and it was very much the right thing to do. It did not end because we opened up; we were not compatible, and there were unhealthy emotional patterns as well.”

Today, Iseman has continued exploring consensual non-monogamy. “I feel much more secure knowing what’s going on, even if it makes me feel uncomfortable or hurts. Knowing I’m in a dynamic with someone(s) who are committed to being with me through uncomfortable discussions gives me such a deep sense of security.”

She emphasises the importance of autonomy and choice and how “grounding” it can be to know her relationships are built on all parties choosing to be there, not “obligation.”

“If my partners are interested in being with someone else, they are welcome to be. They don’t need to leave me in order to do so,” she said. “The only reason they would ever have to leave is because either or both of us no longer want to be with each other. Our relationship has nothing to do with what we do or don’t do with others.”