Persuasion

I work in customer service. I am a mother of three. Negotiation skills are not a need but a must in my life. I spend my days between price reduction requests and angry customers on one side and dreams about video games and annoyed children on the other. I would like these to happen in different time slots, but thanks to the magical world of the internet, I do this simultaneously, no matter where I am. I usually navigate wishes, requests, and demands --independently of where or who they come from-- in a fairly relaxed way: I just run my mental checklist to make decisions:

"Can I do it?"

"Should I do it?"

"Why should it be done?"

I need a couple of positive answers and a reasonable explanation, and then I move on. If not, I change my attention to the next topic. It's easy... usually.

I cruise the business and school year as a pro until December arrives. There, my defenses are low. We all have our weak spots, and mine is a whole month. The moment December pops up in the calendar, people at work get anxious about the things they want to achieve and, first of all, the ones they didn't through the previous eleven months. The kids receive their first grades of the year at school, and the present talk starts. From both sides- work, and school- we are bombarded with end-of-the-year dinners, recitals, secret Santas, and friends gatherings... because it is the end of the year, and people have to meet and enjoy, no matter what happens around them. December is the month to kill yourself working and partying as if there were no other eleven months in the year. 

A year ago, December was especially tough. I had succeeded with all my To-do lists, last-minute assignments, and parties to attend at work. At home, I had baked for half the city, met all my friends, and done all my shopping. I was a champion. Then, one night, feeling accomplished and exhausted, I had the stupid idea of asking my husband:

"Do we have everything?"

To which he replied:

"I want a threesome."

At that exact moment, I think my heart stopped, my lungs collapsed, and my brain broke. I was expecting something like "Yes... I love our family", or "We've worked to have what we have, or even "And it will get even better." I was not expecting "that."

Confused by such a request, I looked at him. He was smiling, glowing. He seemed as proud as our youngest son whenever he finished a drawing and wanted to show and tell every family member. I looked at myself in my grey pajamas and messy hair... "Sexy," I thought. I didn't know if I should feel terrified or humble. Did that mean that my extra weight and poor nightwear were worth sharing? Or was that a trick to manage it? My project manager's brain re-started, and the wheels inside started spinning at cruise speed.

"Sorry, can you repeat?" I replied to him once I gained control of my muscles.

"I think we should have a threesome. We never had one."

"I've never jumped out of a bridge without ropes either... " I thought that, but I refrained myself from telling him. I knew I had to be mindful of his feelings and needs. That's what all the books I've read and trainings I've joined about negotiation skills teach.

"And I think we should also make a movie." he continued.

"A movie?"

"To remember!" he replied, excited.

"To remember... a threesome. Wouldn't that be memorable already?"

"To see when we are older."

I did not know what to say, but I was pretty convinced about how uncomfortable I would feel if anyone would ever watch such a thing... me included. Still, I was curious.

"Dear... why?" I asked him.

'It would be good for us as a couple."

"Teaming up with someone else?"

"You can choose the third person, of course," he said. I could swear he thought that was a good idea, but all I saw right there was another item on my "To do" list: find a third wheel for an uncomfortable situation that I don't feel like doing, will regret the rest of my life and will have to watch it in a video twenty years later. Peanuts.

I love my life partner—I do—but in moments like that one, I wonder who I married because I never thought he would be someone who would start that kind of conversation. Still, I decided to see that talk as a personal challenge and decided to use my three-part question list:

1. "Could I do it?" Physically, yes. There was a possibility of stage freeze, but I thought I could. The tricky part could be finding the third participant, but those were "details" to take care of later. So, yes, I could.
2. "Should I do it?" I know how important boundaries are in life, and curiosity can be healthy, so I looked at the challenge as a way to better understand myself. After all, I had never done such a thing -- or even considered it - so I thought that, from a very scientific point of view, I had more to gain than lose. Maybe I should.
3. "Why should it be done?" The best answer that came to my mind was "to spice up our lives." Who would have told me that one day I would be thinking about the Spice Girls while considering my sex life... That was a potential exercise of trust, but did I want to expose that part of my life to a stranger? Or with someone known? Another maybe to the list of answers.

I had a "yes" and two "maybes," which was not the best business case but not the worst ever either. There I was, with the sheet covering me up to my neck and starting to work the details to solve my uncertainties when my husband continued his explanation/ request/ attempt to drive me crazy:

"But if you don't feel like doing that... we could start with some photographs."

"Of the threesome?!" I exclaimed. That was the topic that never stopped to give, and I started to think about the dinner. What spices had I used?

"It can be only of you... I like you." He said, sweet as ever.

The more he spoke, the more confused I felt. 

"But you look uncomfortable..." he continued.

"Uncomfortable? Me?... Pffff..." I tried to play it down, but I am a terrible liar, and he knew.

"I could arrange some vintage filters and do something classy. You could arrange whatever clothes you want; I am sure it will be perfect."

Perfect was a big statement. I did not feel perfect, convinced, or comfortable. The sheet was up to my nose, and I considered closing my eyes and wishing to disappear. He had been obsessed with his camera and gear for the last couple of years, but his targets had been outside the house until that night. 

"Would you give me some time to get fitter?" I asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Just to feel better about myself."

"You are perfect as you are," he replied, getting closer to me.

"I know, but then I would be even perfect...tier?"

"That makes no sense."

"I know, but still... and you need to find those filters that will turn me fifteen years younger anyhow, right?"

"That's not the idea..." 

"And any tripod and light for the setup..."

The more photography gear I mentioned, the bigger his smile was, and after ten minutes of speaking about everything I could imagine and triggering more ideas in his head, I fell asleep in his arms... almost. I felt his chest up and down, as he was breathing. I knew he was checking his phone, probably looking for all those things we'd spoken about, and my inner self smiled because the last time he had to add something to his collection, it took him half a year.

Meanwhile, he opened his account on the photography website, the one he had visited hundreds of times in the last months. He revised the list with all the material he dreamed of and clicked the checkout button. He was ready.