Additional Responses -- 1 of 2
In my original post (and as
InsaneMystic has reminded us), my "feature concern" was that genuine consent takes basic knowledge for granted -- and that genuine consent is considered an absolute must in responsible non-monogamy. By withholding a crucial fact about what he wanted her to consent to, Richard was making it impossible for Barbara to consent for reals, thus undermining the "responsible" part of responsible non-monogamy (or even responsible monogamy in Dilemma #1), and putting himself (deeper than ever) into the realm of behavioral immorality.
Weighed in the balance (in that original post) was the probable (not absolutely certain) emotional damage to Barbara (and thence to everyone else in the story including the kids). In a nutshell, "genuine consent or peace in the home" were the two things that Richard had to choose between.
However, additional (larger?) issues have come to light as the thread has developed since then:
- One is the idea that dishonesty per se is simply so repugnant and/or objectionable in any situation that Richard should switch to the honest path regardless of his need for (seeming) consent, and regardless of his fear of any of the potential consequences.
- Another (particularly interesting) point (that Marcus made, and if I'm explaining it right) is that by not coming clean, Richard is failing to live the life that he really wants to live. What he really wants is to continue a life with Barbara only if she can accept/forgive the fact that he cheated on her for a year. If she can't, then he wants to set her free to pursue her own values which may be divergent from his.
So what does Richard really want? If he didn't want to break the monogamous covenant, he wouldn't have cheated, right? On the other hand, if he wanted to break free of the monogamous covenant (or at least shift to a different partner), surely he wouldn't have severed (in Dilemma #1) an affair into which he'd invested a year of his life? On the third hand, conducting an affair is essentially rolling the dice on the chance of getting caught, and getting caught definitely would have put his marriage at risk. So at the very least, he wanted to gamble on the possibility of a divorce.
I think my original perception was that Richard changed his mind about what he wanted. Using Dilemma #1 as an example, he traveled through several significant relationship periods in his life:
- middle school, where he wanted Madison,
- high school, where he wanted Barbara,
- marriage, where he bound himself to wanting Barbara,
- an affair, where he either wanted both Barbara and Madison but failed to think of a good way to try to obtain both, or where he vacillated between which woman he wanted,
- termination of the affair, where he wanted to lose Madison rather than continue to risk losing Barbara,
- aftermath of the affair, where he wanted things to return to their pre-affair state, but then realized that one way or another, that past was now lost to him.
One could argue that people don't really change their minds so many times about such fundamental things, and I don't know the outcome of that argument. I'm just admitting that "Richard of the Changing Minds" was the Richard I originally envisioned when I started this thread. I think most of us would agree that an awful lot of people at least
*think* they are changing their minds (about some very big issues) over the years.
Re (from
GalaGirl):
"In a word, the *honest* poly family with a lie at its foundation is a hallucination, a house of cards that will someday topple. It would be better to tear it down now and start over, if that's what it takes to lay a reliably honest foundation."
That makes sense and is an acceptable way to rephrase.
Re:
"He could have faith that behaving in accordance to *his* core values will serve *him* well enough in his life situations."
Also makes sense and is an acceptable way to rephrase.
But let me ask: Is it fair to say that an honest life is a fundamentally happy life? not that every moment is sparkles and rainbows, but that every moment is undergirded with the assurance that one is adhering to a system of values that makes sense. A type of self-esteem, if you will. Sure Richard could have a value system that placed honesty second to other values, but wouldn't such a compromised system (somewhat) undermine the value of his happiness? At the very least, it would limit him to a less-honest kind of happiness, wouldn't it?
Re:
"Why's he posting then if it is a non-problem for him?"
Well he may or may not be posting; that part of the story is optional. But it's definitely a problem for him. He is struggling to decide whether to 'fess up (to Barb). The narrative ends before we get to the part where he is done making that decision (using whatever criteria he may settle upon). We have opportunity to state what advice we'd give him, what we'd do if it was (somehow) us in his shoes, and/or what he should be thinking about in order to make the right decision (such as basing it on consistent values of his own).
If for some reason he decides (or had decided) that it was okay for him to cheat in the first place, then it might make sense for him to continue to keep it a secret from Barbara -- unless he also realizes it's time to ask himself if perhaps he'd actually
*want* to rock the boat. Maybe rocking the boat would be healthier for him as well as for the rest of the family.
I think it is most likely that he is having a hard time deciding how to prioritize his values at this point. His value system is in a state of flux. Is keeping the peace more important, or is facilitating a more genuine life for all concerned more important? He hasn't been able to decide that quite yet.
Let us make no mistake: The bare bones of what Richard is contemplating is whether it's okay for him to lie to his wife. Knowing that's what he's contemplating should perhaps shake him to the core, and perhaps there should be no question whatsoever -- nothing to contemplate. He could of course talk to a therapist to try to get himself into a better headspace ...
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