Lay of the Land: The Other Woman is Full of $#!%

I admit it: the appeal of relationships has mostly eluded me in the jaded beginning of my twenties. When it comes to sex, I prefer to keep things to-the-point. I get what I want. They get what they want. Afterward, we go our separate ways until we meet again. I prefer to be pursued, laid, and then left alone. A part of me finds the idea of sexual conquest juvenile, really. Never will you find me sitting at a table of friends, scheming on the next lay and proclaiming something along the lines of, “Dude, I’m going for it. I’m gonna get that.” Please. Spare me. Even so, I feel I can safely say that I’ve had more sex than most people I’ve met. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, and it’s not something I’m proud of, either. It’s simply a fact. Sex is just sex. Not power. Not fulfillment Not freedom. Sex. An exchange of movements, energies, and sensations. Preferably of the kinky and mildly evil variety. In part as a result of this mind-set, I’ve had my share of affairs before. Factually, most of my “relationships” have been affairs. This isn’t a good or bad, thing, I guess, but now that I’ve thought about it, it’s hardly been a “smart” thing. At first when I’d read this article, which praises the freeing nature of being the “other woman”, my first instinct was to agree with it. It made the vague sort of sense that any decently-written persuasive article does when first presented. Feministic self-determination was present. Caitlin made no excuses. She took no prisoners. The more I thought about it, though, the more Caitlin’s rationale seemed to be reductive and flawed. When I initially sought to respond to the article, I thought I’d go through the entirety of it and offer a point-by-point counter-argument. Then, I re-read the title and thought, “Okay, lady. Let me stop you right there and just say: Bullshit.” Caitlin provided a lovely and deceptively simplistic view of what it means to be the “other woman”. From her perspective, she, the apparently-triumphant “other woman” of her piece, had no responsibility to the an individual whose presence is only fleetingly mentioned in the article. I, of course, refer to the woman Caitlin’s fly-by-the-night was cheating on. Perhaps this is true for somebody more unconscionable than Caitlin, but by virtue of Ms. Thomas being one of the most vocal about unity and feminism on campus (just read any article of hers published between 2009 and 2011), this argument is inherently off-base. Sure, she didn’t drive the nails in to the coffin of the relationship she’d so delightfully decided to intrude upon, but does that make her any less guilty of, I don't know, biting her sister? I’m afraid it doesn’t. How contradictory. Of course, that’s just the fat of the issue. We’ve yet to sink our teeth into the meat of this matter, which is this: There is absolutely nothing "freeing" about being the other woman, particularly if you’re going into such an arrangement as someone who is single and free to begin with. I’ll illustrate all of this as if you, the reader, were the third party, sleeping with a taken man, who is cheating on another woman. While it might seem that you’re enjoying a lovely, escapist fantasy wherein you, the melodramatically titled "other woman", have no social or emotional responsibilities to speak of, that simply isn't the case. The fact is: by virtue of starting an affair with another person, you’ve begun a relationship. It might not be a public relationship, and it might not be the sort of relationship that gives you butterflies and has you gushing to all of your little friends at recess, but it is a relationship no less. Are relationships not, after all, little more than the mutual connections that exist between people? Once the dust of that reality settles, the rest of this well-meant but poorly-founded idea of infidelity’s “freeing” nature topples completely. By beginning an affair, you’ve chained yourself to someone else in some way. The moment there’s been a breach in fidelity to which you were a party, you begin a second relationship--an uneasy relationship with the person who is being cheated on. Realistically speaking, you now share the genitals of whoever you’re mutually fucking. You have insinuated yourselves into someone's life, whether they know it or not, and are now vaguely connected to everyone who will find out when and if the truth of your lover's clandestine escapades is revealed. The longer you continue this tryst, the more the shackles of secrecy begin to add up. Make no mistake--those shackles can become heavy for anyone. Of course, one might ask: “Well, why not just break things off, then?” The answer is simple: even if the fucking ends, the secret still exists, and it doesn’t cease to do so until the truth is revealed. With truth, comes consequence. If you’re lucky, those consequences are minor and you can move on with your life with minimal inconvenience. Unfortunately, within the small-town that is the university circuit, this isn’t generally the case, and the moment that the truth of your somewhat questionable behavior breaks out to the often-judgmental university public, you had better be ready to ride out the long road of unnecessary controversy, drama, and loneliness that will likely result from your actions. To make matters worse, while the man who did the actual cheating might be defamed briefly, chances are that it won't belong before he moves on to someone new, or worse: He’ll end up sticking with the woman he was with to begin with, she’ll take him back, and you’ll be the one to blame for his ethical trespass. Alone. Sadly, it’s almost inevitable that the “other woman” will shoulder the burden of wearing society's condemning scarlet letter. It isn’t fair, but it is the way these things tend to go. Chances are, you, dear adulterer or adulteress, deserve more sympathy and scorn, but sympathy will likely be scarce. While Caitlin Thomas’s sharp tongue and honed impulse to shock managed to, once again, stir controversy within the university's dialogue about sex, I must say that I also tend to disagree with some of her critics. Particularly, I take issue with those of you who made the outrageous claim that Ms. Thomas represents the “definition of a home wrecker” (I’m paraphrasing). Caitlin didn’t wreck that relationship. By virtue of the incredibly insincere Mr. Smith's approaching her for what turned out to be a deep-dicking, his other relationship was already pretty much destroyed to begin with. The only thing Caitlin did was maraud the wreckage in search of something to write about, and, what do you know? She got it. This all brings me to my next point: The term “home-wrecker" is feeble, juvenile, and fairly unrealistic. People don’t randomly come along and destroy relationships from the outside, and I feel like we know this. We just choose to use the term as a way to place all of the blame of our failing relationships on anything but the elements of our behavior, and those of our partners, which might have actually contributed to the failure of a union. We think it helps. These so-called “home-wreckers” don’t destroy relationships. At best, they’re flawed people (also known as everyone who ever lived and breathed) who engage in arguably erroneous and amateurish behavior. At worst, they are the result of the sexual union between vultures and assholes. They pick over the remains of something that’s already dead, and they stink up the place. In short: It isn’t the Caitlin Thomas’s of the world you should be blaming for your relationships-gone-sour. It isn’t the Caitlin Thomas’s of the world who you should fear. Believe me, if you’ve got a partner who is a firm believer in monogamy and is loyal to you, it’s unlikely that someone is going to wander out of out of the sex-opinion section of a university newspaper and into your bedroom to steal your love away. Love isn’t stolen. Love and lust go wherever they want to be, and if you’re worried about being cheated on, then maybe that’s something to be thinking about. Oh, and for good measure: Affairs aren't bad because they're immoral. They're bad because they're impractical and malignant to any semblance of stability. I mean, do what you want, but if I were you, I'd spare myself the drama. Affairs are so last year, anyway. It’s all about seducing Hunter Moore, now. Free tee-shirts and all. When Evynn Tyler isn’t writing for Insight, he’s usually up to foggy, vague things involving genderless partners from all over the world. If ever you want to reach him, perhaps in an effort to breach the fog, feel free to contact him @3vynn on Twitter, via e-mail at EvynnTyler@gmail.com, or at his personal blog, Life Model Decoy.