
Rubrica a cura di Gianna Vazzana
notiziedalcuore@gmail.com
Mila writes:
I had a friends-with-benefits arrangement for four months, but I recently found out he has a girlfriend. I got really angry and confronted him. My friends argue that since I agreed to be with him without strings attached, I have no right to ask for explanations about his relationship status. But I believe I have the right to know if I’m involved with someone who, like me, isn’t looking for commitment at the moment, or if I’m involved with someone already in a relationship, making me complicit in cheating on another person.
Dear Mila,
I’ve heard this argument countless times, but I still don’t understand it: if you agree to be friends with benefits, you must accept that the other person can do whatever they want. Of course, there’s no commitment. But that doesn’t mean you should be made an unwitting accomplice in a situation that goes against your values. Agreeing to be friends with benefits is not the same as agreeing to be someone’s affair when they’re already committed to someone else. No one has the right to decide that for you.
I’ve always held dear the quote from Kant (often also attributed to Martin Luther King) that says one person’s freedom ends where another’s begins. What does this mean in your case? While your friend with benefits might think he’s simply exercising his freedom to have relationships, he has, in fact, infringed upon your freedom to not be anyone’s mistress.
But there’s more. Kant also provides an incredibly insightful definition of how we should treat others in any human relationship: “Act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of another, always at the same time as an end, and never merely as a means.” What does this mean? When we act morally, our goal must be to respect and uphold the dignity of others, always treating them as ends in themselves, not as means to our own ends.
In this case, your friend with benefits deprived you of the autonomy to make your own decision and used you as a means to satisfy his own desires, rather than as an end — to be honest with you and protect your dignity. In other words, he dehumanised you. So, I’m not surprised you’re angry.
Had he respected what you consented to — seeing each other without expectation of a future together, and even having similar relationships with others — I don’t think there would be an issue. The problem isn’t that you feel “betrayed,” it’s that he didn’t tell you the truth about who he is.
To better understand this situation, we can look at the myth of Alcmena, which provides an interesting parallel. Alcmena was a woman deeply devoted to her husband, Amphitryon, but one night, Zeus wanted to sleep with her. To do so, he deceived her by appearing in the form of Amphitryon, taking advantage of his absence. Alcmena, believing she was with her husband, was overjoyed to see him return home. However, the man she was with was actually Zeus, who had disguised himself to get what he wanted. Alcmena, unaware of the deception, thought she was with her beloved husband, but the reality was different. When Amphitryon discovered the truth, he became enraged but ultimately accepted that Alcmena wasn’t at fault, acknowledging the son born from that night, Heracles, as his own.
In your case, you too consented to be with a man you thought was single, but the reality was different. Your friend with benefits acted like Zeus, disguising his identity to get what he wanted, while you thought you were engaging in a relationship of a certain kind. The problem, as in the myth, isn’t so much the consent you gave, but the fact that the person you thought you were interacting with wasn’t who you thought. Your freedom to choose, just like Alcmena’s, was violated by a hidden truth.
There’s another aspect worth considering, and that’s Sartre’s perspective, which differs from Kant’s when it comes to freedom. Sartre teaches us that we cannot escape the responsibility of acting according to our own values. If you were to accept the situation and say everything is fine, just to avoid conflict or to please others, you’d be engaging in what Sartre calls mauvaise foi (bad faith): self-deception to avoid confronting the reality of your freedom. Sartre urges us not to betray ourselves, to be aware that we are free to choose, even if this freedom brings the pain of making difficult decisions.
Both Kant and Sartre speak of freedom, but from different perspectives. Kant tells us that the freedom of others must never violate our dignity, while Sartre encourages us not to lie to ourselves about our choices, urging us to take responsibility for what we decide. However, they both agree on one point: when someone treats us as a means to their own end, we are facing a violation of our freedom and dignity.
So, my advice is: cut ties with anyone who robs you of your freedom and dignity.
I suggest two books:
The Dance of Intimacy by Harriet Lerner
The Ethics of Ambiguity by Simone de Beauvoir
If you have a question you’d like to see published in this column, feel free to email me at notiziedalcuore@gmail.com. For privacy reasons, I’ll change the names before publishing.
If you’re looking for coaching or guidance, don’t hesitate to reach out at hello@philosophicalhearts.com. I’d be happy to support you on your journey.
Gianna Vazzana