I Loved Her So Much,
I Lied To Her

By Tom Limoncelli

Feb 25, 2003

I loved her so much that I lied to her. It's true. It blew up in my face, and that's why I don't lie any more. This article is about an important lesson about relationships that I learned a long time ago. I hope that sharing it, it will help other people.

Here's the simple version:

We were picking a restaurant:

She: How about restaurant A, B, or C?

In my head: [aw darn... I wanted to eat at D, but she didn't mention that one. I guess I'll have to pick from A, B, or C. I assume I can't go outside the initial set of choices.]

Me: Ummm... C.

Later I became resentful because I really don't like C, and really would have preferred D. In reality, I'm pissed at myself for not speaking up, but I blamed her and got resentful.

I'd bet dollars to doughnuts that if I had mentioned "D" she would have said, "Oh, I forgot about that place! Sure, let's eat there!" However, I never mentioned it, so we'll never know.

Ok, that's not what happened, but it gives you a good sense of what I'm about to say about relationships, not restaurants.

We were discussing what kind of "poly" we want our relationship to be.

She: I'd like to be basically monogamous, but we can have sex with other people if all three of us are there.

In my head: [aw darn... I wanted to be able to have sex when she isn't around, possibly without even calling her for a "is this ok?" conversation. But now I know what she wants, and I just know that saying that I want will upset her. I wanted something broad, she wanted something narrow. I guess I have to pick something from within her narrow definition.]

Me: Ummm... sure, I can agree to that.

I agreed to that because I loved her. I didn't want to hurt her or upset her by saying that I wanted.

And of course, that's the formula for disaster.

I wanted to abide by what I said. I hadn't lied. I had every good intention. But the next time I had an opportunity for sex without her, I found that I couldn't resist.

And that's called cheating.

And of course I got caught.

And it sucked.

And I hurt her.

And she dumped me.

And 4 years later I ran into her and had another conversation. I explained the situation and how I messed everything up because I wasn't honest about my wants... because I thought she wouldn't like them.

Her: Well, what kind of poly relationship did you want?

Me: I wanted to experiment. We were in a long-distance (2 hours drive) relationship and I was a horny geek. If it moved, I wanted to fuck it. I didn't want us to have to be together to have sex with other people.

Her: I had no idea that's what you wanted. If you had said that I would have agreed. Heck, we were a 2 hour drive from each other!

Me: Oh.

In the final analysis, I realized that there are times for negotiation ("You want 0. I want 10. Let's settle at 5 and call it a day.") and times for brainstorming ("You want 0. I want 5. Oh, you'll be ok with 5? Cool!"). The problem with the English language is that both situations begin with the same question. It's difficult to tell if someone is asking for a brainstorming session or to begin negotiations.

My solution now is to be clear which is being requested. My partners know to begin questions with, "Let's brainstorm: where would..." or "Let's figure out such-and-such: first, let's list some possibilities." These are verbal cues or signals that we're brainstorming and we shouldn't be afraid to go "outside" the initial list of choices.

I don't think it was a lie to say that I could be "that kind of poly". I had every intention on sticking to my promise! However, I was being optimistic. When I got to an actual situation where I had an opportunity to resist doing things "my way" I found it difficult to do as I had agreed. It was difficult not to be me.

There was another, deeper, problem. Being honest about what I want is difficult two ways. First, if I don't know what I want, it's difficult to admit it. If I do know what I want, it can be difficult to say it. I feel guilty about asking for what I want because I was raised to believe that doing so is selfish. Yeah, the therapy bills were expensive but I finally figured that one out. Thanks Mom for that little nugget of neurosis!

Of course, there are many times where the only way I ever can know what I do and do not want is for me to try out different options to see what feels right. That means making mistakes, which is difficult for me, and hard on the partner that agrees to suffer through my mistakes.

I have some solutions. First, when I realize that I'm having trouble saying "I don't know" I need to take it as a signal that this is an important time to say exactly that. Secondly, if I really can't get myself to say what I want, I need to say that I'm having problems expressing myself and ask for more time. Lastly, I need to acknowledge to my partner (verbally, not mentally) that it isn't easy to suffer through my experimenting.

My biggest fear of asking for what I want is that the request will hurt the other person. That's silly. Asking a question is never bad. Stating a want or desire is never wrong. I want a million dollars. I'm not going to get a million dollars, but my partner shouldn't be hurt from hearing me say that I want a million dollars.

If your partner gets unrecoverably hurt from hearing your needs, there is something wrong with the relationship you folks have developed. Chances are, however, that it's you that needs fixing. The reality is that your partner is a lot stronger than you realize. So let the words fly (with love, don't be harsh just to be harsh). Make sure they understand that you need to be able to express your needs just as they do. Make sure you state your needs in a context of love and understanding and everything else will take care of itself.

To recap:

  1. Usually brainstorming leads to negotiation, but don't skip the brainstorming!
  2. Verbally distingish when you are brainstorming vs. when you are negotiating. Agree on a signal and use it. A good single might be the phrase "Let's brainstorm" or "Let's start by listing some possibilities" or do the moose-antlers sign with your hands.
  3. Ask for what you truly, truly want when brainstorming. Compromise when negotiating.
  4. Don't be afraid to say, "I don't know what I want" or "I need more time figuring out what I want."
  5. If you fear that stating a need will upset a person to the point that they'd leave you, then there is something wrong with the relationship: most likely, you are assuming the other person is fragile. Get a clue: they aren't.
  6. When you start to sweat because you are afraid to state your needs... is exactly the time that you most need to state your needs.
  7. Act like the partner you wish they were. Encourage the people close to you to say no when they mean no, and demonstrate to them that it's okay. Everytime a partner says "no", repond with appreciation for the honesty. Build an environment where honest communication is rewarded.
I loved her so much that I lied to her. It's true. It blew up in my face and I regret it. On the other hand, I learned a lot about myself, relationships, and communication. I also learned that treating a partner like a fragile person creates a fragile relationship. Treating a partner like a strong person leads to a strong relationship.

There is tension between who you say you'll be to please your partner, and who you actually are. You could act in accordance with what you said rather than how you'd naturally act. Or you could change how you present yourself to match who you are and prevent a boatload of problems in the first place. That's what will really solve the problem.

It's easier said that done, but something that I know is worth it because it's 11 years later now, and things are a lot better.

(By the way... if reading this makes you feel guilty, I promise that your partner is waiting for you to turn your guilt-spiral around. Share this with them and let them know you want to work on stopping the downward spiral.)