Confession: My Fifty Shades Fantasy

This is a humorous look at one military spouse's fantasy. Do you have a similar fantasy? Have you ever acted on this desire?

I have a fantasy that I’m afraid to act out on but I know there are others like me who dream about it too.

The “Fifty Shades of Grey” books have nothing on our longing. My fantasy doesn’t even take advanced planning. The benefits highly outweigh the costs involved. Just like Ana in those “Fifty Shades” books, the yearning is so strong that there are days when I can think of nothing else.

It is an all-consuming fire that makes going about my day a challenge.

What’s holding me back? Maybe fear of ridicule? Fear of gossip? Fear of being labeled a bad mother?

Or maybe it’s just being brave enough to go through with my fantasy.

My dream started soon after my wedding. We were married in our early 20s, children quickly followed, and we were far away from family. Those factors combined to feed my pipe dream. I call it a pipe dream because I don’t know that it will ever come true.

My husband doesn’t understand it. He can’t comprehend why I would want to act on it and I don’t know why he can’t see why going through with it is so important to my mental health.

Doesn’t he want to make me happy? “Happy wife, happy life” after all. We have had countless arguments and discussions over my wish. And still after many years; I’m unfulfilled in my need.

My craving usually takes root about a month into a deployment or TDY.

It’s a combination of loneliness and stress that triggers it. And even though I know it’s coming, I can’t stop it. The kids are demanding, my work from home job is monotonous and I’m just plain tired.

I am pulled in too many directions at once and I can’t see straight. That’s when I turn inward and that longing takes a hold.

This is a humorous look at one military spouse's fantasy. Do you have a similar fantasy? Have you ever acted on this desire?

(Warning! The next few paragraphs are graphic.)

My fantasy goes like this.

I hop in the car and drive away, leaving my husband and kids back at the house. I don’t even bother looking in the rear view mirror because if I do, I might not go through with it. Then I drive to the hotel where I made my reservation and check in. Maybe I’d let the valet park my car but that might be taking it too far. The front desk people don’t even flinch when I tell them that I don’t need help with my luggage. I’ve brought so little, you see. “Have an enjoyable stay,” they offer. Don’t worry. I intend to. As I take the elevator up to my room, I’m giddy with anticipation.

When I open the door, I sigh with relief. I really did it.

My fantasy is finally coming true!!!

I am alone. It’s amazing that something so simple can be so satisfying.

There is no one calling “Mommy!” There is no one requiring me to cook a meal. Deadlines are in the past. There is only me with my thoughts and/or a good book.

Maybe I’ll sleep in.

Maybe I’ll sit by the pool.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll watch a television show.

My spouse doesn’t get it. I would talk about how he was free of the kids while on TDY. While I understood that he missed his children and wanted to be with them, he didn’t understand my desire to be unburdened. I knew he was still working but there is a freedom there. I wanted freedom and I wanted it badly. Working from home gives you no respite from the constant demands of motherhood. I yearned for a break and a single night out utilizing a babysitter wasn’t going to cut it. There needed to be an extended hiatus for it to count as checking off that box.

My spouse would counter my argument with his own –

“You take the kids to our parents’ houses. Doesn’t that count as a break?”

It may seem like it to him but as we all know, when you do that, you still have to be “on.” Even though it’s family, there is not always an easy way to relax.

Not only that but I have to actually get to my parent’s house. That means a plane ride, which incorporates into a car ride TO the airport and then corralling the kids while waiting to board the plane. That in turn translates into keeping the kids occupied on the plane and then finally arriving at our destination.

Then, and only then, can I “send the kids to grandma.”

It’s not that I didn’t love my children. I did and I do. There is just a need to forget it all sometimes.

That’s what a fantasy is after all-an escape from reality. And sometimes we just need to fantasize to get though our daily lives.

Who else feels like I do?



  1. You put into print things that a lot of women think about but hide it because it was not the thing to talk about as you would be considered a bad person as to how could you even think of doing such a thing bravo to you i know it helps to write our feelings down on paper. Luv you Aunty Cathy


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