I’m giving dating apps another try as a single mom. Men interested in open relationships are a green flag.

Nicola Prentis finds that men seeking open relationships are more honest about what they want.

The first time I dated a non-monogamous man was in 2012. That lasted a year and a half until I met someone else and transitioned into a more traditional, monogamous relationship that lasted five years.

In hindsight, the earlier relationship was undoubtedly the healthiest I’ve ever experienced.

Contrary to what some people assume about non-monogamy, it’s not just about sex. I’ve found that open relationships only work if they’re based on complete trust, honesty, and great communication.

Those are all key qualities I want in a partner. So, when I recently opted to give dating apps another try, I decided to actively look out for “non-monogamy” when scrolling through online dating profiles.

They’ve been easy to find, as two years ago, Hinge — the app I’m trying out this time around — added a feature that allows users to designate their “relationship type” on their profile. The choices include “monogamous,” “non-monogamous,” or “figuring out my relationship type.”

Non-monogamous men are more honest

Men who state their preferred relationship type as non-monogamous probably drive away a lot of women, but I see it as brave and uncompromising that they choose to write it anyway. Basically, they don’t just tell you what they think you want to hear.

When I see “non-monogamy,” as long as the profile has their actual photo and they’re not hiding behind anything, I’m confident I’m going to meet someone who’s transparent. For the ones with partners, I’ve found that not only is she aware he’s on dating apps, but she’s usually dating around as well.

I’m not interested in profiles that list multiple options. Reading between the lines, to me, it just means: “I’m playing the field, so don’t hold me to anything.” They also seem to be the ones who are probably not OK with you being with other people.

One such man, who’d been divorced for more than 10 years, asked me what my dating life had been like in the five years I’d been single. I replied truthfully that I’d rekindled a few old relationships and explored some long-standing friendships.

His response was: “How will it work with all of these men around?” It made me wonder what he would have said if I had shared less and just told him that I’d been “figuring out my relationship type” for five years.

Someone who selects only “non-monogamy” has usually made some very well-thought-out and difficult choices about how they want to live their life. It takes guts to be transparent and honest about that despite it narrowing the dating pool significantly.

They are better communicators

I’ve found these men to be open about their feelings and intentions across the board. They know that trust isn’t limited to sexual fidelity; it’s about making someone feel secure, airing problems before they blow up, and following up words with actions.

They’re also good at communicating plans, which I’ve found rare in the dating world, where I often don’t know when or if a guy wants to see me again. With my partner in 2012, we’d plan our next date at the end of every date. I always felt valued and secure.

Juggling multiple people means having to be really good at time management, so concrete plans are important. But I see it as more than just being on top of their diary; it feels as if non-monogamous men I’ve dated place a high value on relationships. They’ve learned that you can’t let things go stale or silent if you want to share something special. That’s right, I said special, not unique, which isn’t at all the same thing.

It’s not just about sex

I’ve found that non-monogamous men have an abundance mindset when it comes to sex, not a scarcity mindset. They don’t need to hoard it, chase it, or pressure it. For monogamous men, you’re the only one who can supply what they want unless they cheat, so there’s more chance of scarcity and, therefore, pressure.

I tested this out on a couple of first dates recently, one with a non-monogamous man and another with a monogamy/figuring-out-my-relationship-style profile. During the evening, I told them both that, in the past five years, my average length of time before sleeping with a guy had been 12 years.

The monogamous man physically recoiled — he actually took a step back.

“I haven’t got 12 years, luv,” he said. His overall air was somewhat offended. He disappeared quickly.

The non-monogamous guy? He got it straight away.

“Ah, it’s about trust,” he said.

“Exactly!” I felt so heard. The conversation then naturally moved on to other topics — no big deal.

The second time we met up, I asked him about his reaction. “You were describing how it has been,” he said, showing once again how he was able to simply hear what I said instead of a threat to his likelihood of sex. A third date is on the cards.

So far, I’ve never actually been in an open relationship, I’ve only dated men who were non-monogamous while I’ve been single. But they’ve certainly taught me to expect much more than just bringing monogamy to a relationship.