I Don’t Want to Compromise Anymore (And I Don’t Think You Should Have To Either)

TikTok video from 2022-09-03

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This is Part Two of something I’ve been sitting with lately. It’s about the idea that one person—the person, our “person”—should be everything to us. Our best friend. Our sexual match. Our emotional processor. Our domestic partner. Our co-parent. Our rock, our safe space, our spark.

And here’s what I’ve learned after being married for 35 years:
I don’t want to compromise like that anymore.

Now before you clutch your pearls—let me be clear. I’m not talking about compromise in the everyday, give-and-take way. We all do that. That’s part of being in any long-term relationship. I’m talking about fundamental compromise—the kind where you go without something important to you, year after year, just to preserve the fantasy that one person should meet every need.

And honestly? I’ve done that. We all have.

But now I’m in a place where I can say this with total clarity:
I don’t want to live without deep friendship.
I need someone I can talk to, really talk to—process feelings, untangle emotions, ask the messy questions. And my husband? That’s just not who he is. He doesn’t love digging into emotional complexity. He doesn’t enjoy that kind of vulnerability, and honestly, why should he?

Why should I force him into a role he doesn’t enjoy—just because I need it?

And why should I go without something essential to me—just to protect a monogamous fantasy?

Here’s the thing: I don’t have to.
I have someone else I talk to. A friend. A chosen connection. Another thread in my web of support. I get that part of my needs met without putting pressure on my marriage to be something it’s not.

That’s the beauty of choosing relationship abundance—not necessarily more chaos or partners, but more truth. More space. More permission to let your relationships be what they actually are instead of trying to force them into a mold.

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: monogamy often demands silent compromises we don’t even talk about.

One partner wants more sex, the other doesn’t.
One partner wants a specific kind of intimacy—kink, touch, emotional connection—and the other doesn’t enjoy it.
One partner is super social, the other introverted.
One wants late-night talks. The other wants sleep.
One wants play. The other wants peace.

And instead of saying, “Hey, maybe you don’t have to get all that from just me,” we shrink ourselves down. We learn to go without. We tell ourselves it’s noble.
This is what commitment looks like.
This is the cost of long-term love.

But what if it doesn’t have to be?

What if choosing someone for life doesn’t mean choosing less for yourself?

What if you could keep your marriage, your stability, your home base—and also have the conversations, the intimacy, the pleasure, the friendship you crave… with other people?

What if having it all is not selfish—but honest?

That’s where I’m at now. I’m not here to shame anyone who chooses monogamy, or even chooses compromise. But I am here to say:
You don’t have to give up the parts of yourself that want more.
You don’t have to silence your longings just to protect your partner’s comfort.
You can choose more. Gently. Ethically. With love and clarity.

Because one person might be your life partner… but they don’t have to be your everything.
And that’s not a failure. That’s freedom.