Our relationship is, by most people’s standards, unconventional. My husband and I don’t follow the typical rules of marriage, and yet, we’ve found a rhythm that works for us. In many ways, we are closer than most couples. There’s a deep trust between us, and that trust allows for freedoms that others might not understand.

When I first realized he didn’t mind if I slept with other men, it felt strange. At first, I thought it was a test or that he’d eventually resent me for it. But he reassured me over and over that this wasn’t the case. He loves me deeply—of that, I have no doubt. Our relationship may not fit into a neat little box, but it’s real. And as odd as it may seem, it’s built on honesty.

We have our own unspoken rules. When I go out to clubs, we both know there’s a chance I’ll meet someone. I’m open with him about it—sometimes even texting him during the night to let him know what’s happening. There’s no jealousy, no accusations. Instead, he tells me he enjoys hearing about it, knowing that I’m experiencing something new while still being committed to him.

In the beginning, I was confused by his reaction. How could a man love his wife and not care if she was with other men? It took me time to realize that his love for me wasn’t limited by physical boundaries. He wasn’t insecure or possessive. In fact, he often told me that seeing me with someone else, even in photos, made him appreciate me more. He felt no threat to our bond—if anything, he believed it made us stronger.

There were moments when I questioned if this was truly healthy, but those doubts would fade each time I saw the way he looked at me. His eyes always sparkled with admiration, love, and desire, no matter what I had done the night before. To him, I was still the same woman, the one he chose to marry, the one he wanted to grow old with. Our bond was deeper than any physical experience could ever shake.

When I was with other men, it was different. It was exciting, yes, but it was never as meaningful as what I had with him. Those encounters were fleeting, a kind of indulgence in the moment, but my heart was always anchored in the love I shared with my husband. He understood this, and it’s why he never saw it as betrayal.

The photos were a part of it too. I’d sometimes send him pictures from those nights—nothing graphic, just moments of intimacy or excitement. I was always surprised by how much he enjoyed them. He’d smile, his eyes lighting up, telling me he found it thrilling. I never felt objectified or disrespected. Instead, it became another layer of connection between us, a way to share something that most couples never even talk about.

In the end, our relationship is built on more than just passion or desire. It’s a strange dynamic, I know. But it’s one that works for us. There’s love in every aspect of what we do. He trusts me completely, and I trust him. It’s not for everyone, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters.