WHO’S IDEA WAS IT ANYWAY?

I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. I thought to myself. I mean, I had just read a polyamory article before coming on this walk and I was engaging in a secret intrigue with a high school flame but this was something else entirely- and did I really mean it as a joke that because of the zoloft I now thought “polyamory, why not??”

And his response was, “Well, you know, I am very aware of the fact that I am not satisfying you sexually and I want you to be happy. So if you were to, engage with another man in some sexual capacity, I would want you to remember that we had this conversation and know that it was okay with me.”

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

My first reaction was to almost fist pump the air and say HELL YES!!  It’s on, motherfuckers!! I need to contact The Ninja immediately! I felt like I had been liberated. This huge weight flung off my shoulders. I didn’t need to sneak and hide my flirtation and sexting anymore! He was okay with all of it! Oh man, this was going to be fun. How perfect??? He is so amazing. I think I love my husband more than ever right now.

And I did, I felt more attracted to his aloofness that I mistook as autonomy than I ever had been.

We went on to further investigate what this would mean and look like.

He assured me it wasn’t for him. He just wanted me to be happy and he didn’t know why, but he wasn’t up to the task, maybe his age, maybe his supplements, maybe just him, he has a low sex drive, no problem, we are such good parents and great living partners that this could be the perfect way to keep our family together. To make everyone happy. To avoid the dreaded D word. Divorce. Both being victims of, and both being recovered addicts and alcoholics, of course we want better for our child. We want only the best for her.

It was a win-win.

We could stay together, stay married, and I could have affairs. How fun? Right?

And that was how we began our foray into polyamory and non-monogamy.

On an innocuous walk through the dusty Arroyo on a hot Los Angeles Spring Sunday.

On Monday, the unraveling of my life began.

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