My husband made an extremely indecent proposal for his birthday. My instincts screamed no… but now our sex life is better than ever

Ten years into our marriage, my husband Eric said: ‘I know what I want for my birthday.’

‘Oh yeah?’ I asked. ‘What?’

‘I’m going to pull up a website. Please keep an open mind and read it all. Then we can talk about it.’

The site was for The Lodge, a nightclub for swingers, a term that made me cringe. ‘Lifestyle club’ was the alternative lingo.

From what I understood about such places – from movies, I supposed – couples, who might or might not already know each other, swapped partners and had sex.

‘OK,’ I said, sighing only slightly. ‘I finished reading.’

I swiveled slowly on the desk chair and looked at Eric, my arms crossed over my chest. This should be good.

‘I’d like to try this,’ he said. ‘We don’t have to do anything other than check it out, but I’m curious.’

He spoke slowly and deliberately as if to avoid spooking a skittish colt. ‘I realize this is new, but I ask that you try to keep an open mind. That’s all.’

I felt my face redden and my heartbeat quicken. I was fighting off anger, not successfully. ‘Strangers hook up and swap partners in the middle of nowhere at someplace called The Lodge? That’s what you want to do on your birthday? And you want me to do it with you? Seriously?’ I groaned. ‘Eric… I don’t know…’

Eric waited.

I was quiet, thinking. Eight months earlier, Eric had had an affair. As far as I knew, it was the first time he had cheated. Our son Will had been a toddler. Eric’s business had been struggling, and I had just lost my job.

Eric had risked his family for the validation he found in another woman’s bed. I was not fool enough to believe his needs had evaporated when the affair ended. I viewed Eric’s openness in proposing this exploration with me as better than cheating.

When we talked about his affair, Eric had said that the lying had torn him up and that he never stopped loving me. I had witnessed Eric crying for the first time.

Oh, poor baby, I’d thought at the time. Was that hard for you? Shall I weep for your angst and your struggle?

We had talked. A lot. The summer Eric made his birthday proposal, I was still recovering from the humiliation of the affair and from the very vocal feminist in my head chastising me for choosing to stay with the partner I had loved since I was 19.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘It’s your birthday. I guess I can try to keep an open mind, but no promises.’

Our foray into swinging revealed that I was surprisingly unbothered by my husband having sex with another woman while I was occupied with her husband on the same bed, inches away. I discovered that I could separate love and sex. However, as our non-monogamous journey continued, I found my bliss in dating separately, one-on-one, with men I could develop not only steamy sexual connections with, but intimate, more fulsome relationships, ie polyamory.

I was pathetically clueless about dating as an adult, not having dated much before I met Eric. Where was the guidebook for ‘Dating Younger Men When You Haven’t Dated Since Computer Monitors Were Monochrome, Back Before Cell Phones, Texting, and Snapchat’?

Nowhere to be found. Trust me, I looked. But it was all part of the adventure.

What helped Eric and me most on our polyamory journey were the three Cs: communication, communication, and more communication. 

We were ethical polyamorists, which meant we were open and honest about our non-monogamy with each other and everyone involved. We each knew who the other was dating. We did not go in for the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell variety of non-monogamy, where a couple dates separately and keeps all the details from each other, never meeting their metamours – their partner’s other partners.

After his infidelity, Eric eschewed cheating. He embraced kitchen table polyamory, where partners and metamours in a polycule socialized as friends (mostly) without drama and jealousy.

Eric welcomed my dates with handshakes and bro hugs, and sometimes, if I couldn’t catch him before he answered the front door, a jovial greeting of: ‘Are you the guy here to sleep with my wife?’

We had rules. Of course we did. At first, I needed them because the relationship dynamic was uncharted territory. Rules help us feel secure and in control. Because Eric’s first dating relationship was with his former affair partner – I know, right?! – I needed clear boundaries that were communicated to all concerned.

She wasn’t allowed in our home. They were limited to two dates a month, and she could not sit her butt on Eric’s motorcycle because it was ‘our’ thing.

Married men I dated also had rules for me.

Now I roll my eyes at those rules. Over time, especially after his first acutely challenging relationship ended, the rules relaxed. I welcomed his partners into our home (almost) as easily as he welcomed mine.

Sure, I struggled with jealousy. Having been raised on the cultural narrative of the ‘one true love’, it wasn’t easy pivoting from till-death-do-you-part monogamy to sharing your beloved with another woman who was typically much younger. (Don’t cry for me too much. My partners were also younger than me.)

I told Eric my fears – often in a raised voice. It was uncomfortable for me, as an independent woman and accomplished attorney who had put people in prison, to admit vulnerability and insecurity.

Eric listened with compassion and patience. He knew he needed to rebuild trust with the woman he loved but had betrayed.

With his words and actions, Eric showed me every day that he loved and cherished me. Our sex life was just as robust, if not more so. Eric would say: ‘Polyamory is a gift you give me that I am grateful for. I know how lucky I am.’

These days, I feel like the lucky one. I have identified as polyamorous for 15 years, and non-monogamous for even longer. I am open about my identity now, but I led a double life for years due to fear of job loss, a knock on the door from child protective services, and general bias and adverse treatment.

Federal legal protections do not exist for the non-monogamous, whereas discrimination in the workplace and housing based on age, race, sex, and disability is illegal. Only in the last few years have cities in California and Massachusetts included ‘family or relationship structure’ as a protected category in their human rights laws. Localities in Washington – where we live – Oregon, Michigan, and Maryland, among other states, are poised to follow suit.

Today, I am a joyfully polyamorous woman with lovers, boyfriends, partners and romantic and non-romantic connections I never dreamed of 25 years ago.

For the past four years, I have lived in a resident V with my husband and his other partner, Zella.

It’s called a Resident V because we reside together. My husband Eric is the hinge or point of the V and Zella and I are the arms of the V.

We are not a throuple or triad because she and I are not intimate partners. We affectionately call each other Marvelous Metamour and share not only a romantic partner and a home, but vacations, meals, household tasks, and a love of dancing and live music.

Fortunately, our desires and schedule mesh rather easily. I tend to spend the majority of nights with Eric because that has been our routine for decades and because my meta is an earlier riser for her 9-5 job and prefers more morning time to herself.

Our travel schedules also affect where Eric sleeps. For instance, if either of us is traveling without him, he will spend more time with us before we travel.

We send newsy, photo-filled holiday cards to our friends and family, signed by all three of us.

Initially I got a few emails and texts asking who were the people in the photos in our holiday card, including my other partners, and what a metamour was. I answered each question and got only positive feedback such as ‘you live an interesting life’ and ‘I am happy for you.’

If anyone had negative thoughts, they did not share them with me.

My son, now an adult, learned of our lifestyle when he was in high school and was not adversely affected. He had known our partners as our friends and even had his own friendships with them. He tells me he is proud of his mom for living an authentic life and writing a book about it.

The three of us have now been living together for four years and it gets even better by the day. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Saying Yes: My Adventures in Polyamory by Natalie Davis is published by Skyhorse