Being The Other Woman

It was one of those random, unplanned Saturday nights, where me and some quality girlfriends (as in quality friends and quality humans) got together and ended up in one of Shoreditch`s fancy member clubs (not the Curtain – the other one).

It was exciting, we hadn’t seen each other for a while, so there was much to talk and gossip about. Twenty espresso martinis and one quick meet up with our dealer later, we were messing around on all floors, taking sexy photos in the photo booth, dancing like wannabe strippers in the library.

We eventually ended up playing ping pong, then out of nowhere this quite cute guy (according to my beer goggles) appears and tries to steal our ball. Rather out of character for me, I reacted very quickly like a mother cub protecting her pack and grabbed the ball before he had the chance to get a hold of it. This initiated a little flirtatious game between us.

He promised to buy me 5 tequila shots if I actually had the ball (which was hidden in my hand) -who doesn’t want 5 tequila shots at 2am so I showed him the ball for a millisecond and then hid it in my pants. I mean, between him offering me 5 tequila shots and me hiding the ball in my pants it was pretty damn clear were things were going, right?
We had spoken for 5 minutes max when he offered me a tour of the place which led to him giving me a tour of his convertible Porsche which then led to 20 seconds of naughty Porsche sex. He parked in a dead end, pulled his pants down, I got completely naked and jumped onto him. I humped him a few times until he told me that he couldn’t control himself anymore and was about to come. I choked his throat and screamed, “WAIT!” and managed to come just before him.

I remember his dick having a nice shape, not the biggest but enough to make me happy. I would have preferred at least a minute rather than 20 seconds but nothing’s perfect right? He probably didn’t even try to control himself as in the back of his mind he was doing something so much more forbidden than I realised at the time.

We went back to the club and that was the end of the game and the end of the story. We both won I guess… I played it cool – imaginatively high fived myself for getting and taking what I wanted. I insisted we go back to the club so I could end the night with my girlfriends – I felt so empowered like a proper player.

Until the next day, when I realised that I had absolutely no details of this cute (-ish) guy. Most men I sleep with I never see again anyway, but I at least have their names and numbers so there is the potential to stay in touch. I started coming down from that night feeling emotionally fragile and not loved -just fucked. I realised that I’m not that good of a player after all. I am a sensitive, emotional being that wants to be loved and fears the ephemeral. So with too much time on my hands and a desire to see him again (probably more because of the Porsche than the 20 second sex session) I went on an Insta stalking mission and eventually found him. Famous football player, married for six years, two kids. For motherfucking sake…of course. Shocked, a bit sad having been lied to but mainly smiling to or rather laughing at myself because this, exactly this, is the story of my life. So here’s the story:

Everyone remembers Romeo and Juliet but do you remember Rosalind? The girl Romeo pines for early in the play but leaves behind after falling for Juliet? I truly believe that once I was named, I was destined to be the “other woman”. Not the first choice, not marriage material, but the girl you want to have fun with for one exciting forbidden night without inhibitions.

Of course I am choosing to play this role, not only because I’m bad at making a relationship work but also because I think the “other woman” is in the more powerful position. She is the one who you can live out your sexual fantasies with and who has the knowledge, the truth of the situation. At other times, it can be a sad and lonely place because the “other woman” will always be the second choice.

Some other advice my guru mum gave me when I was only a young girl was that all men will cheat, but they will always go back to their wives and families. That message was playing in the back of my head like a too quiet alarm siren when I, with full awareness, hooked up with my first married man. I decided to play things really cool. This would be a short romance until his wife came back from her holiday, perfect for me as I was there for a good time and not a long time.
This is when I learned that as much control over your thoughts you think you have, you can’t choose who you fall in love with. And so I fell. Oh, let me tell you how deeply I fell!

He said exactly the right things and touched me in exactly the right way. He urged me to share my deepest secrets – things I had never told anyone and he did the same and that’s how we bonded.
After he told me one of his darkest secrets (it’s so dark and so illegal I actually can’t tell you) he forced me to stop all shame right there and then and tell me an equally embarrassing secret. So I told him that I started masturbating when I was three years old and my parents punished me for it. I got addicted and did it anyway, several times a day but felt ashamed about it. I realised the guilt my mother made me feel stayed with me up until that very moment.

For many years I looked back on the moments I had with this man with deep pain and grief in my every cell of my body. I had tried to hold onto to something I couldn’t have. Today when I reminisce about that time I’m filled with gratitude.

This Flirt of a DJ had opened me up so much and even helped me get over a childhood trauma. Because of him, I have no secrets left. It’s become a normal and exciting thing for me to tell share secrets when I’m getting to know someone new. Most often it doesn’t work, people are too scared or too shy or not open to that type of intimacy.

Maybe I’m trying to find a connection like the one I had with him. Desperately trying to replicate it each time I meet someone new. But it rarely happens, maybe most people aren’t fucked up enough to have such “inappropriate” secrets but I have also realised that’s what I’m after.

I like the inappropriate, the unusual, the taboo. I love it in fact…
It took me three years to get over him. I mean three years of thinking about him every damn day – I was even in other relationships but they were only a mild distraction. I do believe that we have had a very special and rare time in a special place, where no real world problems even existed but I have come to understand that the fact that he broke up with me was the reason why I couldn’t let him go. We want what we can’t have and it’s especially painful if the one we want chooses someone else over us. This man was the first to introduce me to this simple truth but there were many more to come.
The most recent example happened just a few days ago in Dubai, when I met someone at a party and we just ‘clicked’. We were shocked by how much we liked each other, our similarities, our love for racing bikes. One passionate kiss, the plan to get married in three years and exchange of phone numbers later I started chatting to him (and still am).


What he doesn’t know – I found him on facebook with a photo of his girlfriend. Does it change anything about the beautiful night we shared? No. Can I blame him for not telling me? No. Its no ones fault that we liked each other and he is probably scared to lose contact with me if he told me about his relationship. My emotionless reaction to this situation caused an argument between me and my cousin who believes he should tell the girlfriend about me. I tried to explain, that one kiss and some inappropriate small talk should not be a reason to make another woman feel insecure and even cause a relationship to end. She is speaking from the point of the girlfriend and me from the perspective of the girl that likes a man that is in a relationship. So far we have not found a common ground of understanding but we are trying.

Now let’s talk about the fact that many men have wives and girlfriends as well as girls on the side. If they’re still not satisfied they’ll go visit sex workers. (Not your man, of course. He is the exception. No worries). In some countries in Africa and Asia this is a completely normal thing that is spoken about openly. In Thailand, there is even a name for the “side chick” (“gik” is the rude version and “mia noi” the nicer one) and all women know about each other. Here in the West, things aren’t all too different, except that no one talks about it. It’s an absolute taboo and most people, especially women, don’t want to see the truth.

We can of course stay silent about this subject and deny the facts but I believe this society would be a better one if we were able to speak openly about our desires and fantasies and the feelings associated with them.

If your partner thinks and dreams about being with someone else, wouldn’t it be an act of true unconditional love to allow him or her the freedom to do it? To live the most satisfied and fulfilled life possible? Aren’t your own fears of rejection, jealousy, and losing something that was never yours to begin with stopping you from giving your partner that freedom?

This ain’t love in my eyes. This is trying to control your partner because of your own fears.

Now, we can talk about open and polyamorous relationships. These relationships can be difficult and they’re not right for everyone but many couples have found that going to sex parties or inviting other people into the bedroom can spice things up. Check out the article about open relationships if you’re interested to know more about them.

But what if we don’t want to explore this completely new and different world of polyamory? How will we deal with being the woman that is being cheated on or being the woman that is being cheated with? As always, it helps to understand human nature and psychology and not let the romanticised idea of relationships fool and disappoint us.

Life is not a Disney movie. We are sexual beings with fantasies and fetishes. We make mistakes and succumb to our desires. There’s evidence to suggest humans might not even be monogamous by nature. So will clinging to a concept that might be totally socially constructed, cause you pain and suffering for all of your life?

Or are you willing to look at relationships, desire, and the human psyche with all its reptilian instincts from a neutral and logical point of view?
If you try to view things from that standpoint, it doesn’t even really matter whether you are the main or the side woman. As long as you know that you can never possess another being and the desire to be intimate with more than one person is absolutely natural and has no bearing on your own self worth you will be alright.

Women have always gone through this. Some got caught in their own emotions and overthinking, lost their own identity by giving emotional energy to the women they were jealous of. Others told themselves exactly what I am trying to tell you: your happiness is your responsibility.All you have in this world is yourself so spend at least most of your time, energy and love for YOURSELF!