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It Excites Me to Think About My Husband Having Sex WithAnother Woman
If Only That Were All…
“I don’t think he’s cheated on me and he doesn’t know I’ve cheated” — this phrase echoes in my head like a broken bell. There’s something deeply disturbing about the casualness with which we pronounce certain truths, isn’t there?
When I read about this 43-year-old woman, who fantasizes about seeing her husband with others while maintaining her own affairs and exchanging explicit videos with the neighbor, I couldn’t help but feel a knot in my stomach.
Not because of the act itself, but because of the glaring dissonance between desire and reality.
Fucking other people isn’t the problem. The problem is fucking ourselves over and calling it liberation.
She says “It’s only a matter of time until our relationship becomes a serious affair.” Fuck, really?
How did we get to the point where we plan our own self-destruction with the same casualness as choosing what to have for dinner?
The husband, poor guy (or not), played along with calling her Margot and Emily. I want you to stop for a moment and think: How much is our identity worth when we ask our partner to pretend we’re someone else? Is it exciting? Maybe. Is it healthy? Well, that’s another…
