The Monogamy Paradox
I’m in my mid-thirties, single, and reasonably well-put-together. I wouldn’t claim to be Andy Lau, but I’d give myself a solid 7 out of 10. Women at work and in my social circles compliment me often enough. I’m quick on my feet, easy to talk to, and I know how to keep a room entertained.
In a city like Singapore, where life often feels like an endless loop of work, MRT rides, and home, you have to engineer your own excitement.
My avenue of choice started back in my twenties. It’s a habit most people look down on: I pursue women who are taken. Married, engaged, attached—it doesn’t matter. You’d be surprised how many fall for it, and how easily a standard routine turns into an affair. Over the past decade, I’ve had relationships with numerous married women. A few even had children with me—children their husbands are currently raising as their own.
IT’S THE EXCITMENT & HOW WRONG IT FEELS MAKE ME WANT MORE
I know the immediate reaction. People will curse, swear, and brand me a villain. But moral outrage has always felt a bit performative to me. Right and wrong are often just cultural consensus. Something is deemed “bad,” a law or social taboos are created to reinforce it, and everyone falls in line. Move across the globe or back a few centuries, and the exact same behavior is viewed entirely differently.
Look at the people who claim the moral high ground—the “goodie-two-shoes” who present a flawless facade to their families, colleagues, and friends. Deep down, everyone has a release valve. Some discreetly pay visits to Geylang on a quiet weeknight. Critics might judge that too, but how is it fundamentally different from spending months taking someone on expensive dates just to reach the same destination? Either way, effort and resources are exchanged for gratification. It’s all a matter of perception.
In my years, I’ve watched the “well-behaved” types closely. The perfect husbands and devoted wives who suppress every impulse to maintain an ideal image. Eventually, the pressure builds, and they snap.
I’ve always believed you either play when you’re young, or you end up playing when you’re old. I’d much rather get it out of my system now than be the guy blowing up a twenty-year marriage in his fifties because he never learned how temptation works. The fallout is far worse when you try to act innocent for half a lifetime.
At the end of the day, if two adults choose to connect and find happiness together, who is actually being harmed in the moment? We aren’t built any differently from other mammals—monogamy is a human invention, not an absolute truth. I’m not asking for validation, nor do I consider myself the villain of this story.
I’m just playing the game as it actually exists, rather than pretending the rules were ever real.