Holly goes to dinner

• Join Holly as she searches east Auckland for love and connection

In which Holly goes to dinner. “Bring one of your gentlemen,” my friend had said on the phone.

Generally, Reader, I don’t introduce my beaux to friends and family.

Some of my spicier relationships require discretion, and I don’t enjoy performative couplehood.

The very handsome man I’m currently seeing is used to being shown off.

Me? I have a few features that conform with traditional beauty standards, but I’m more likely to be described as “the fat one” than “the pretty one”.

I’m perfectly fine with that, and my partners appreciate me as I am.

That acceptance makes for an authentic connection.

There’s no need to show each other off or fit our relationship into the shape that society expects.

We’re free to be our own kind of happy.

So, I turned up to dinner alone, with just a bottle of wine and a Wild Wheat loaf in hand.

I greeted my hosts and was introduced to Jan and Stan (not their real names).

“We’ve heard so much about you!” Jan exclaimed. “We’re excited to pick your brain about opening up our marriage.”

Ah, it was going to be one of those evenings. Every so often, Reader, I walk into a situation like this where I find myself being treated as though I’m the Rosetta Stone of sluttery.

Stan continued: “We’re just a boring married couple, but we’ve done all the usual stuff.”

A red flag went up in my head. Everyone’s definition of “usual stuff” is different.

There’s no set standard that any couple needs to achieve in order to get their sexual fulfilment merit badge.

Reader, I’ll spare you the details of our conversation about unicorns and party etiquette.

After careful consideration, Jan and Stan conceded that they weren’t ready, though they’d felt a silent societal pressure to explore more.

For the longest time, happy singles like me have been told that we should squash ourselves down into couplehood.

Is it now the turn of the happily married to be told that how they love isn’t good enough?

Is vanilla-shaming the new kink-shaming?

I hope not. Monogamy isn’t my jam, but it does work for some people – and if they’re happy that way, I would hope that everyone else can be happy for them.

Being married or monogamous doesn’t make you “boring”.

Society may tell you that if you don’t explore enough, you’ll never be happy.

Rest assured, it gives the same dire warning, with opposite advice, to someone like me.

Perhaps, Reader, society’s expectations will never be appeased.

Perhaps we’re all walking an endless tightrope between being too libertine or too uptight, too single or too married, too much of this and not enough of that.

I’m convinced that (beyond the most basic rules of respect, honesty and consent) the trick is to simply be your own kind of happy.

Email holly@times.co.nz.

Yours in love, Holly

Thinking about opening your relationship? Here are five things you might like to do first:

• Talk, talk, talk. Without great communication, you’re asking for heartache.
• Get tested. Start your adventures confident that you’re taking care of your health and respecting everyone else’s.
• See a counsellor, and/or read Polysecure by Jessica Fern. Opening a relationship can be a joyful experience, or it can trigger old attachment wounds. Be ready for both.
• Don’t rush into big changes or worry about the fun other people might be having. Every love dynamic is unique. You don’t need to keep up with the Jones’ – unless they’re actually inviting you in.
• Strive to be non-judgmental toward others and yourself. As Mrs Patrick Campbell once said: “It doesn’t matter what you do in the bedroom, as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.”