LuvNWonder
New member
Not really a question here, just a description. I'm highly emotional most of the time, a real artist type, and to have a group of like-minded folks to share with is a bit overwhelming.
I doubt I can adequately describe how I felt and what I did the day my wife was alone with her bf in bed for the first time. I want to try, just in case anyone else is facing something similar.
I'm the poly one of us, by nature, and I've wrestled constantly for years over how right or wrong it might be for me to *want* her to understand and experience the wonder. I've focused so heavily on trying to make this right for her I've actually neglected how much all of this means to me (but that's another thread some time). For the first time since deciding we want to open our lives to shared loving relationships with others she had met and communicated with a guy.
A local guy in our very small town, which in itself causes so much anxiety. I have literally experienced the "moral support" from people with to much time on their hands who through the grapevine are aware she has gone to lunch with this guy several times. Sigh. Anyway.
We had met, all three of us after she assured me he was a great guy and she trusted him. I liked him immediately and was overwhelmed with his caring and supportive interaction with my wife. We spent enough time together to know that it was appropriate that they take their relationship further. I live away so it was agreed to wait until I could be in town again for moral support. I may be the poly one. I may live a thoroughly self examined life and understand my emotions very well, but I had butterflies l
ike you wouldn't believe. I know it was as bad for her at least to start, and him too.
I arrived home the night before and had a fantastically passionate night with my wife. We talked about trepidations and how she'd have speed dial ready to go if she needed me, what was my plan while they were home alone, etc.
The next morning I washed the sheets, made the bed, cleaned our room and neatened the rest of the house. The butterflies were building but I was so sure this was right for them. They were wonderful together. They seemed so natural and comfortable and it was, well, sweet. I loved seeing them together and I was developing quite a crush on the guy myself.
I bought them a bottle of wine, laid out a tray with the chilled wine and glasses, added lube and condoms (this was the point after all), but away the lube and condoms (no, we'd agreed it wasn't the point, just a potential outcome if they both felt it was right). Then I put them back (better safe and prepared, oh I hope it's right for them). I made things as nice as I could for them because I wanted it to be special.
...
I was scheduled to be gone for two hours on a daddy/daughter date and we did the town, she and I. Shopping, ice cream, book store, and I am so very greatful that I had such a powerful and important distraction because the butterflies were a swirling maelstrom by now. Finally when the two hours was up I sent a text saying I would be another hour.
I wasn't ready to go home.
I started journaling, fast and hard. Livejournal, my iPhone notepad, taking notes to try to analyze my trepidations. I finally grouped all of my worries as follows, please try not to laugh:
1) it will be unpleasant for her- despite our attempts to get to know him I worried he would be rude, insensitive, forceful or demanding. He might not listen if she says "no".
Solution: we'd covered that. The phone was ready, we trusted him, we knew where he worked. I am big enough and in a rage could beat the crap out of him.
2) she will love him more than me and I'll lose her.
Solution: oh c'mon. Almost 22 years of marriage? She could have found endless numbers of better options by now. I'm stuck with her.
Also. Being open to more love is kind of the point.
Also. What mature woman falls in love after a first, somewhat stressful attempt at lovemaking?
3). This guy has a freakishly long member and I'll feel inadequate or even worse she'll feel I'm inadequate.
Solution: oh wow. What are we in 12th grade again? Yeah he's longer than me (got intimate proof of that) but I'm nothing to sneeze at and the differences are part of what is so wonderfully about all of this anyway- and I mean all of the differences, not just the physical. I hope she enjoys herself until she's crosseyed, dammit!
4) some poorly defined quality of *the unknown* that just scares me
solution: got none. Unknown still just...scares me.
So that's how I dealt with the event. A few minutes after I finished writing I sent a text saying "coming home...slowly" and she sent one back "all done".
Now what the heck does that mean?
Hugged when we got home, kissed her and knew.
Couldn't talk for a while, the carcasses of that horde of butterflies wasn't sitting to well. I went downstairs to clean up the wine bottle, drank a glass myself, quickly, and confirmed all the condoms were used.
Daaaamn girl!
We talked, I asked if he'd been appropriate when he should have been and inappropriate when called for and she said yes and snuggled me. I kept going over my numbered list and the solutions, and reversing the positions (what if it had been me with a girlfriend, etc). I did this for a week as the butterflies faded. We made love again that night and it was so special...hard to explain.
As she's spent time with him since, mostly lunch dates and I'm only left with how cool they are together. We communicate better than ever, she and I.
I love her dearly, and I am so glad she can see how amazing this is.
All for now. I welcome any comments, questions, etc. on this long ramble.
Brian
I doubt I can adequately describe how I felt and what I did the day my wife was alone with her bf in bed for the first time. I want to try, just in case anyone else is facing something similar.
I'm the poly one of us, by nature, and I've wrestled constantly for years over how right or wrong it might be for me to *want* her to understand and experience the wonder. I've focused so heavily on trying to make this right for her I've actually neglected how much all of this means to me (but that's another thread some time). For the first time since deciding we want to open our lives to shared loving relationships with others she had met and communicated with a guy.
A local guy in our very small town, which in itself causes so much anxiety. I have literally experienced the "moral support" from people with to much time on their hands who through the grapevine are aware she has gone to lunch with this guy several times. Sigh. Anyway.
We had met, all three of us after she assured me he was a great guy and she trusted him. I liked him immediately and was overwhelmed with his caring and supportive interaction with my wife. We spent enough time together to know that it was appropriate that they take their relationship further. I live away so it was agreed to wait until I could be in town again for moral support. I may be the poly one. I may live a thoroughly self examined life and understand my emotions very well, but I had butterflies l
ike you wouldn't believe. I know it was as bad for her at least to start, and him too.
I arrived home the night before and had a fantastically passionate night with my wife. We talked about trepidations and how she'd have speed dial ready to go if she needed me, what was my plan while they were home alone, etc.
The next morning I washed the sheets, made the bed, cleaned our room and neatened the rest of the house. The butterflies were building but I was so sure this was right for them. They were wonderful together. They seemed so natural and comfortable and it was, well, sweet. I loved seeing them together and I was developing quite a crush on the guy myself.
I bought them a bottle of wine, laid out a tray with the chilled wine and glasses, added lube and condoms (this was the point after all), but away the lube and condoms (no, we'd agreed it wasn't the point, just a potential outcome if they both felt it was right). Then I put them back (better safe and prepared, oh I hope it's right for them). I made things as nice as I could for them because I wanted it to be special.
...
I was scheduled to be gone for two hours on a daddy/daughter date and we did the town, she and I. Shopping, ice cream, book store, and I am so very greatful that I had such a powerful and important distraction because the butterflies were a swirling maelstrom by now. Finally when the two hours was up I sent a text saying I would be another hour.
I wasn't ready to go home.
I started journaling, fast and hard. Livejournal, my iPhone notepad, taking notes to try to analyze my trepidations. I finally grouped all of my worries as follows, please try not to laugh:
1) it will be unpleasant for her- despite our attempts to get to know him I worried he would be rude, insensitive, forceful or demanding. He might not listen if she says "no".
Solution: we'd covered that. The phone was ready, we trusted him, we knew where he worked. I am big enough and in a rage could beat the crap out of him.
2) she will love him more than me and I'll lose her.
Solution: oh c'mon. Almost 22 years of marriage? She could have found endless numbers of better options by now. I'm stuck with her.
Also. Being open to more love is kind of the point.
Also. What mature woman falls in love after a first, somewhat stressful attempt at lovemaking?
3). This guy has a freakishly long member and I'll feel inadequate or even worse she'll feel I'm inadequate.
Solution: oh wow. What are we in 12th grade again? Yeah he's longer than me (got intimate proof of that) but I'm nothing to sneeze at and the differences are part of what is so wonderfully about all of this anyway- and I mean all of the differences, not just the physical. I hope she enjoys herself until she's crosseyed, dammit!
4) some poorly defined quality of *the unknown* that just scares me
solution: got none. Unknown still just...scares me.
So that's how I dealt with the event. A few minutes after I finished writing I sent a text saying "coming home...slowly" and she sent one back "all done".
Now what the heck does that mean?
Hugged when we got home, kissed her and knew.
Couldn't talk for a while, the carcasses of that horde of butterflies wasn't sitting to well. I went downstairs to clean up the wine bottle, drank a glass myself, quickly, and confirmed all the condoms were used.
Daaaamn girl!
We talked, I asked if he'd been appropriate when he should have been and inappropriate when called for and she said yes and snuggled me. I kept going over my numbered list and the solutions, and reversing the positions (what if it had been me with a girlfriend, etc). I did this for a week as the butterflies faded. We made love again that night and it was so special...hard to explain.
As she's spent time with him since, mostly lunch dates and I'm only left with how cool they are together. We communicate better than ever, she and I.
I love her dearly, and I am so glad she can see how amazing this is.
All for now. I welcome any comments, questions, etc. on this long ramble.
Brian
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