My husband can’t stand my interest in my best friend’s sex life
“I think you two will really get along.” My husband could scarcely have known how correct he would be when he uttered these words about a female colleague of his, more than a decade ago. Nor could he have known how his view of her, and of our friendship, would be so horribly altered.
I formed an instant bond with her, which was only strengthened over the years by having children at similar times and the fact that we ended up living in the same neighbourhood. We were each other’s rocks through the ups and downs of pregnancy; of newborns, of toddlers and of starting school; through the tedium of playgroups and playgrounds; through the sometimes difficult periods of having partners who often worked overseas for long periods of time.
I suppose I was also her rock when her partner left her for another woman a few years ago. She’s had an incredibly tough time of it, and has devoted herself heart and soul to putting her children and their wellbeing first. So when she finally decided, after five years on her own, to “get back out there”, I was thrilled for her.
Dates, such as they were, were not long in coming from the various apps she signed up to. We have laughed like teenagers over her stories of daytime liaisons and unspeakably raunchy sex; over the often dire profiles on Tinder, and over disastrous, never-to-be-repeated encounters. Her confidence has bloomed.
Ultimately, she would like to find love but, for now, she’s enjoying the adventures. And, yes, I am enjoying them vicariously. Her escapades are so far removed from my existence that hearing of them is almost like the escapism of watching trash TV – except better, because I am engaging with someone I know and love, and we are having proper belly laughs, widening our eyes in horror and disbelief, and shrieking like idiots.
Despite the fact that I’ve always maintained a life and friendships away from my husband, I’ve never been in the habit of “hiding” things from him. Half the fun of not living in each other’s pockets is that you can share stories and bring something new to the table, right?
Well, perhaps not always. I noticed early on that his reactions to my mirthful retellings were lukewarm, at best. At some point they became positively frosty. Taking my cue from this, I stopped telling him about them – but then, after I’d seen or spoken with her, he’d question me aggressively, seemingly just so he could then say horrible things about her “behaviour”. He has grilled me about why I am enjoying her stories so much. Do I wish that I was having encounters with multiple men? Am I envious of her?
I’ve laughed off his reaction – disapproval, suspicion, jealousy? – on the basis that, yes, perhaps it’s somewhat unnerving to see a woman of a certain age have a sexual renaissance, especially when you’ve known her for so long. Perhaps he, as a long-married man, is equal parts titillated and envious?
What worries me though, is that his disapproval is becoming increasingly vitriolic. She encountered our teenage boy for the first time in a while recently, and I proudly told my husband that she couldn’t get over how tall and handsome he was. His response? “She can keep her bloody filthy eyes off him.”
Equally disturbingly, I’d arranged to meet her for a drink a few weeks ago and he questioned me about who else was going to be there, as if we’d planned some kind of Tinder foursome. I ended up handing over my phone to show him the messages by which we’d made our (perfectly innocent) plans.
I don’t judge my friend for the choices she’s currently making. I don’t want to be judged for them, either.
READ MORE: My wife boasts so much about our life on social media, it's embarrassing
