I get a lot of questions about my publishing journey, non-monogamy, relationships, and in general about my life as an author, polyamorous wife, mother, and more.
I wanted a place where I could marinate on those questions more thoughtfully than in an Instagram DM, and instead of replying one-to-one, share the answers with others who might benefit from them. ‘Ask Me How It Works’ is my new advice column where I am happy to do that, right here on Substack.

This week’s question is from Catherine. She writes:

Dear Deepa,

I am still reading your book and it has just brought up a lot of questions. I’m not sure if you can answer, but this is my story.

My beautiful husband died during the pandemic. We had the most wonderful and exhilarating open marriage. Our love for each other was always first and foremost and it brought such joy into our lives. I am still grieving, and probably always will.

I did, however, form a new relationship with one of my husband’s friends. It was purely sexual to begin with, but that relationship ended a couple of weeks ago. I am left feeling so traumatised that I gave him my heart, which has now been shattered again.

I’m now 56. I’m fit and healthy and live in Australia. I can separate love and sex, but I just don’t know where to go from here. I have a very high sex drive but right now, I am falling deeply into a black hole. I have two beautiful daughters and family and friends for support, but none of them know about my marriage.

I am loving your book, and I thank you for your talent in writing with such love and compassion.

Catherine

Dear Catherine,

I’m so very sorry for your loss.

When we lose someone we truly love and once shared a life with, we learn to reshape our lives around the empty space they left behind, knowing no one else can ever really fill it.

Because we love them so much, we never want to truly replace them, nor are we able to, because that would mean erasing their memory instead of honouring it.

Instead we try our best to move forward, which takes immense strength and courage.

I applaud you for yours. I feel the vitality radiating from you all the way from Australia to Amsterdam. Life is far from over for you; the rest of your life is waiting to be lived with the same spirit of exuberant joy and adventure with which you lived your marriage.

This moment is a pause in your sexual life. Your heart is asking for it—literally aching for it. Your heart has been through much; it needs and deserves rest.

It won’t be like this forever. Your sexual drive isn’t going anywhere. Pause it for now, and come back when you’re replenished by the love of those around you. I promise—pleasure and desire will come roaring back when you’re not forcing them from a place of depletion. Trust me.

In this pause, tend to your relationships with your family and closest friends. The support you need and deserve right now, that will get you out of this black hole, lies in them. But accessing it requires vulnerability and radical honesty from you.

You’re afraid to tell them about the open marriage you and your husband shared. You’re afraid of their rejection and judgment, which is natural—those of us in open marriages are always aware of and exposed to this risk.

But I wonder if perhaps most of all, you’re afraid they’ll judge the kind of love you shared, that only the two of you seemed to understand… and of somehow tainting his memory in the eyes and hearts of those who loved him.

You shouldn’t have to struggle alone. You shouldn’t have to keep a secret that cuts you off from those closest to you, who can hold you in your pain.

Not all love is found in romantic and sexual relationships. The deepest wellsprings of love can be found in family and genuine friendship.

Choose the person closest to you and tell them what you told me, just as you told me. One thing I find always helps with hard conversations is to start them by acknowledging that what you’re about to tell them scares you, and what you’re afraid of. But you’re doing it anyway because you love and trust them, and you really need them right now.

Another thing I find that always helps: write it all down in a letter. Then either send it to them or read it to them, whichever you find less scary.

If you send it, offer them time to process what they’ve just read, but make a clear request for them to acknowledge receiving your email (personally, it would drive me crazy to be left on read). Ask for a time to talk about it together when they’re ready, preferably with no interruptions and lots of hugs, wine optional. Ask for love, understanding and support. You deserve it.

Be clear on how you need them to support you. Do you want to be able to talk about your open marriage with them? About your recent heartbreak or future relationships? Understand that maybe your friends will be ready to hear about one, but not the other. Maybe they will in time, when they get used to the idea of you moving on with your life this way.

The important thing is to crack open that door.

Let go of any shame you still have around this part of your beautiful marriage, and around the needs you both had, which led you to embark on this adventure together. Let your heart unclench and breathe.

You don’t have to do this alone.

I don’t know how old your daughters are, but if they’re of adult age I would strongly recommend you tell one or both of them. Maybe you need to tell a friend or two first to get the hang of these disclosures, to secure emotional support, or to work up the courage. That’s perfectly okay. It takes time.

Your children don’t need to know the details of your sexual life, but they care about the state of your heart. The love of your children is the purest love there is. Don’t close yourself off to it. Show them that you trust them. Assure them of your commitment to them, and to the memory of their father.

The people in your life love you and want to support you fully. Trust that love. If any friends fall off, let them—they aren’t the people you need right now. You don’t need a lot, just one or two who understand. You might be surprised by how many do.

From the end of this recent relationship, you’ve learned a hard but valuable lesson: open marriages aren’t always just about sex, as many (including those of us in them) often think. The possibility of developing deeper feelings is always present.

Don’t beat yourself up for your feelings—it’s all too easy to get to your heart when you’re still so vulnerable from the loss of your husband. You’re emerging from a vulnerable and tender time. Be ruthlessly selective. Choose wisely who has access to your heart through your body.

In time, you’ll be stronger and capable of enforcing more robust boundaries, which you’ll need for more vigorous adventures. For now, it’s a time to protect you.

Use this time to reflect on what you want your new boundaries—your non-negotiables, standards, or rules of engagement—to be. A boundary is something you require in order to engage with someone, without which you will not engage. Is it emotional safety? Distance? A slower pace? Clear agreements? Remember: ‘don’t fall in love’ is not a boundary.

In your open marriage, you and your husband looked out for each other’s hearts. I’m afraid, dear Catherine, that part of learning to move on is learning to look out for your own.

I know it’s scary, but you’re a brave woman. You’ve faced one of the hardest things a human being will ever face, and have come out the other side. You can do hard things, and you will boss this, too.

You had the tools to nurture and protect a flourishing open marriage, which is really fucking hard. You still have these tools, and in this pause, you will pick up new ones.

I’m rooting for you.

Sending love and strength from Amsterdam,

Deepa

P.S. I’m a Catherine, too.

If you have a question about anything at all—from writing to publishing, from marriage to non-monogamy, intimacy and relationships, to parenting and life in Amsterdam—send it on through. I read each and every one.

Ask me how it works

Because of the sensitivity of these posts, and the time and care they require to respond to them, I’m considering making future advice column posts accessible to paid subscribers only. But for now, I’m happy to share them for free.

My book, ASK ME: A MEMOIR OF DARING TO LOVE DIFFERENTLY is out in the world in paperback. Buy it, share it, and show it some love. And thanks, as always, for being here.