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During a time some years ago that I now refer to as "The Great Experiment," my hubby wanted to attend a swingers gathering with the idea that we could live out some of the things we jointly fantasized about. I was nervous about the whole prospect, but said I'd give it a try. I met a man the very first night who became my lover for about 3 months. It was a very exciting and very selfish time in my life, looking back, and while I wasn't terrible, I didn't acquit myself in the manner I now wish I had. It was the first time in my life that I'd felt desirable to men and sexually powerful, and that's a heady cocktail. (No pun intended.) In time, though, the Mister tired of TGE, and asked me to stop fucking my lover. We had some sincere, difficult, and teary conversations about it, and ultimately, I complied with his wishes. Why? Because as much fun as I might've been having, I couldn't have any fun knowing my actions hurt the man I loved most in the world. My selfishness only went so far.
Years later, we revisited the discussion, again at my hubby's initiation. But the point is, we talked about it, every step of the way--when it started, when it was fun, when it got dicey, when it stopped, and when we thought about it again. And we showed caring, love, and respect for each other while we did it, even when we saw things differently. Ultimately, our choices were made with the needs of our beloved in mind; frankly, I don't see any other way to approach decisions of any kind in a loving, committed relationship.
It's okay to want what you want. It's okay for him to want something else. It's not okay to demand someone else want what you want, or to think that actions will not have consequences. All actions do--even if he went along with you, there'd be consequences. All any of us can do is to determine which consequences are most palatable to us, and behave accordingly.
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