On Our 10th Anniversary, My Husband Suggested We Start Seeing Other People — I Agreed, and His Smile Didn’t Last Long
I thought my husband had planned something romantic for our tenth anniversary.
We had gotten dressed up, found a babysitter, and gone to a restaurant we normally saved for special occasions. For once, there were no kids interrupting us, no dishes waiting in the sink, no laundry buzzing in the background.
Just the two of us.
I remember sitting there with my wine, thinking how strange it was that ten years had passed so quickly.
Then my husband said, “I’ve been thinking about something that might actually be good for us.”
The way he said it made me assume he meant a vacation. Maybe couples therapy. Maybe even just making more time for each other.
Instead, he looked straight at me and said, “What would you think about opening the marriage?”
I genuinely thought I had heard him wrong.
“Opening it?”
“You know,” he said. “Being allowed to see other people sometimes.”
On our anniversary.
Of all nights.
I just stared at him, but apparently my silence sounded like an invitation to keep explaining.
He told me that since having kids, I was “always tired.” Between the house, school schedules, meals, errands, appointments, and everything else, apparently I didn’t have enough energy left for him.
And according to my husband, an open marriage would fix that.
“I could go out occasionally,” he said. “Have some fun. Then you wouldn’t feel pressured to keep me happy all the time.”
That was the part that nearly made me laugh.
Apparently he had somehow convinced himself this proposal was for my benefit.
It never seemed to occur to him that if I was constantly exhausted, he could help more around the house.
He could take over bedtime.
Cook dinner.
Do laundry.
Handle school pickup.
Give me one evening where nobody needed anything from me.
But no.
His brilliant solution to his exhausted wife was for her to keep doing everything while he went out with other women.
For about thirty seconds, I was furious.
I wanted to ask whether there was already someone he had in mind. I wanted to know how long he had been planning this conversation. Part of me wanted to dump my drink in his lap and leave him sitting there with the anniversary bill.
Then something clicked.
And suddenly, I wasn’t angry anymore.
Because my husband seemed to be imagining a very specific version of an “open marriage.”
One where he got freedom.
And absolutely nothing about his own life changed.
So I decided not to argue.
I smiled.
“Okay.”
He blinked. “Okay?”
“If that’s really what you want,” I said, lifting my glass, “then yes. We can open the marriage.”
I have never seen his mood change so quickly.
His shoulders relaxed. A huge smile spread across his face. He looked almost giddy, like he couldn’t believe how easily he had gotten away with it.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He reached for his drink, clearly convinced he had just won the lottery.
The poor man had absolutely no idea why I had agreed.
I let him enjoy that feeling for another few seconds.
Then I leaned forward.
