Hi,
I'm new to this whole thing, and I'm wondering. Here's my tale.
I got married to Arthur 10 years ago, totally buying into the cultural ideal of one spouse for life, totally committing to this in every way. Even though I always felt bound by the restriction, even though there were men in my life that I felt close to, I stopped myself from exploring relationships with them, even close friendships, because I'd been taught that married women just can't do that.
About six months ago, I started becoming even closer with a friend, Hector. There was no sex, just really close intimate talks that deepened our friendship. I decided that I was tired of putting up that wall with friends just because they're men, and let it develop. Hector is a great friend, the best I've had in years.
Then, out of the blue, Arthur started talking to me about swinging and trying to convince me that this was something we should try. Our marriage is good. We're sexually healthy and adventurous in our sex life, so why not?
I wasn't really comfortable with the casual sex aspect of swinging. I wasn't good at that when I was single and dating, and I'm still not. (No judgment; it's just not something I can do.) I start trying to wrap my mind around this, and in my research, I come across the terms polyamory and polyfidelity. "Wow, this is exactly what I'm thinking!" was my revelation.
I brought this to Arthur. He said he was not into building relationships, he just wanted the sex. But to encourage me into getting into the swinging idea, he suggested that I find my own partner to enjoy, in order to get used to the idea. Of course, I broached the issue to Hector, who had recently realized that he was polyamorous. The three of us sat down and discussed the potential relationship.
Arthur gave the go-ahead, and it all looked good... until Hector and I had our first sexual experience together (which took a while to happen, because life kept getting in the way).
Arthur, in the meantime, took to swinging like it was going out of style, setting up sex dates left and right.
Hector and I have had only one night together. We're still friends and the friendship is even better. We're still close and there's no weirdness. I've actually felt pretty good about Arthur's dates, because it seemed like he was enjoying them, and I felt a measure of freedom in our relationship that I'd been craving. I felt like our values and the reasons we were together were no longer defined by this possessive, ownership understanding of relationships. I felt like we were on a great path.
Arthur, on the other hand, seethes with jealousy any time I even mention Hector's name. Any time he knows that Hector and I are going to be sharing space, even just lunch, like we'd done for years before this, he texts me nonstop. He demands to hear nitpicky details of our sexual encounter.
After weeks of nearly nonstop sex dates, he quickly burned out on casual sex. He decided that the whole experience just wasn't for him, and he was going to stop.
He says he's not going to ask me to stop seeing Hector, but I can tell that he wants me to. I haven't even gotten a chance to explore this as fully as I want, but I already know that this is the way I see relationships now, that I don't want to be beholden to one person forever, but to share love and intimacy in a free relationship.
I guess my question is: What do I tell Arthur? I don't want to break up with him. Hector and I are not romantic, so it's not like there's any threat to my marriage. The only threat, it seems, is what I'm bringing, my understanding of relationships as open and free, and my desire to keep it that way. I realize that it's not just my relationship with Hector. It would be my relationship with anyone. I'd do this again with another partner, in another free relationship.
I feel selfish and greedy. But I also feel a pull to let this go, to maintain the peace in our marriage, even though I know it'll mean squashing a big piece of me.
I think I'm venting more than anything. Anyway, thanks for listening.
I'm new to this whole thing, and I'm wondering. Here's my tale.
I got married to Arthur 10 years ago, totally buying into the cultural ideal of one spouse for life, totally committing to this in every way. Even though I always felt bound by the restriction, even though there were men in my life that I felt close to, I stopped myself from exploring relationships with them, even close friendships, because I'd been taught that married women just can't do that.
About six months ago, I started becoming even closer with a friend, Hector. There was no sex, just really close intimate talks that deepened our friendship. I decided that I was tired of putting up that wall with friends just because they're men, and let it develop. Hector is a great friend, the best I've had in years.
Then, out of the blue, Arthur started talking to me about swinging and trying to convince me that this was something we should try. Our marriage is good. We're sexually healthy and adventurous in our sex life, so why not?
I wasn't really comfortable with the casual sex aspect of swinging. I wasn't good at that when I was single and dating, and I'm still not. (No judgment; it's just not something I can do.) I start trying to wrap my mind around this, and in my research, I come across the terms polyamory and polyfidelity. "Wow, this is exactly what I'm thinking!" was my revelation.
I brought this to Arthur. He said he was not into building relationships, he just wanted the sex. But to encourage me into getting into the swinging idea, he suggested that I find my own partner to enjoy, in order to get used to the idea. Of course, I broached the issue to Hector, who had recently realized that he was polyamorous. The three of us sat down and discussed the potential relationship.
Arthur gave the go-ahead, and it all looked good... until Hector and I had our first sexual experience together (which took a while to happen, because life kept getting in the way).
Arthur, in the meantime, took to swinging like it was going out of style, setting up sex dates left and right.
Hector and I have had only one night together. We're still friends and the friendship is even better. We're still close and there's no weirdness. I've actually felt pretty good about Arthur's dates, because it seemed like he was enjoying them, and I felt a measure of freedom in our relationship that I'd been craving. I felt like our values and the reasons we were together were no longer defined by this possessive, ownership understanding of relationships. I felt like we were on a great path.
Arthur, on the other hand, seethes with jealousy any time I even mention Hector's name. Any time he knows that Hector and I are going to be sharing space, even just lunch, like we'd done for years before this, he texts me nonstop. He demands to hear nitpicky details of our sexual encounter.
After weeks of nearly nonstop sex dates, he quickly burned out on casual sex. He decided that the whole experience just wasn't for him, and he was going to stop.
He says he's not going to ask me to stop seeing Hector, but I can tell that he wants me to. I haven't even gotten a chance to explore this as fully as I want, but I already know that this is the way I see relationships now, that I don't want to be beholden to one person forever, but to share love and intimacy in a free relationship.
I guess my question is: What do I tell Arthur? I don't want to break up with him. Hector and I are not romantic, so it's not like there's any threat to my marriage. The only threat, it seems, is what I'm bringing, my understanding of relationships as open and free, and my desire to keep it that way. I realize that it's not just my relationship with Hector. It would be my relationship with anyone. I'd do this again with another partner, in another free relationship.
I feel selfish and greedy. But I also feel a pull to let this go, to maintain the peace in our marriage, even though I know it'll mean squashing a big piece of me.
I think I'm venting more than anything. Anyway, thanks for listening.