In the spring of 2013, I attended my first ever Sexual Attitudes Reassessment (SAR) seminar, which was hosted in Montreal, Quebec. When I first showed up, I was unceremoniously handed a box of condoms, a courtesy Diva Cup, and a small folder that contained a skeleton version of the weekend schedule. This marked one of the more underwhelming introductions I’ve encountered, as the workshop quickly proved to be one of the most comprehensive, insightful and innovative learning experiences I’ve ever encountered. Every panel discussion brought incredible stories, filled with equal flavors of awe, sadness, connection and desire. A space was created where I could sit and really think about what sexuality meant to me, and to discuss it with those who bring so many different perspectives to light was wonderful. On a professional level, I felt like I had learned more about sexuality and sex education during those four days than I had in my 22-year life.
On a personal level, however, I was in total emotional turmoil from start to finish. Part of the workshop provided a list of questions you could ask yourself that could potentially bring to focus some of the sweeping generalizations or stereotypes one may inadvertently attached to specific topics, and to realize that you (the liberal and open-minded individual that you pride yourself to be) has unknowingly pocketed and perpetuate some stigma… well my guttural reaction to it was quite intense, and lead to all sorts of behind-the-dumpster-outside-the-metro breakdowns, which quickly transitioned into a healthier paradigm shift and fundamentally changed how I approached sexuality in both myself and in others.
With that said, I really wanted to highlight a particular panel discussion that was given by Carol and David, who came in to talk about swinging. For those who don’t know, swinging could be loosely defined as “A lifestyle of non-monogamy where sexual relations occur outside the established couple”. It’s important to note that swingers tend to refrain from emotional attachments with their outside partners, which generally differentiates their relationship from a polyamorous one, although for the purpose of this post, the idea could apply to any non-monogamous relationship, romantic or not.
My knowledge about swinging prior to the panel discussion was embarrassingly fragmented, taken from a myriad of here-say stories from friends-of-friends, and movies starring Nicole Kidman. Truthfully, it was a topic I never gave much thought to, because I wrongly believed that the justification for openly having sex with other partners always came from a place of guilt and insecurity, or that it implied that there was something wrong or damaged with the relationship. Of course both were false assumptions, as it was very quickly understood that swinging had much less to do with sex, and more to do with supporting and exploring the relationship boundaries you share with your partner.
Carol and David were nothing short of spectacular; they were tall and graceful, clean cut, brightly-smiling and above all, confidant. Their confidence exuded from their body, was knit in every word they said, and soaked in every gaze they gave one another. As impressive as it was to see attraction and commitment conveyed so openly, I found it most striking that their lifestyle – The Lifestyle, as they called it—could be explained so effortlessly, and discussed with such coherence and eloquence.