Desire, Not Duty: Honoring Your Yes (and Your No)

One of the most important things I teach is this: you are never obligated to play. Ever. In swinging, the only expectation should be mutual enthusiasm. And yet, it can feel like there’s pressure—sometimes from others, but often from within. Because even if someone else is hoping or assuming, it only becomes a problem if we override our own truth to accommodate it.

Let me share a recent story. Because even as a coach, I’m not immune to awkward situations. But I do try to live what I teach—especially when it comes to using my voice in moments that matter.

My husband and I were in Vegas for the weekend. We'd chatted with a few people, but nothing panned out. Still, we were enjoying each other, and after a lovely night out, he asked if I’d like to invite in a single guy. “I would,” I said. Not always the case, and he knows it’s about a 70-30 no-yes split for me.

We found someone we’d been messaging and invited him to our hotel. I met him downstairs at the bar. He was sweet, a little nervous—which made sense—and after a good conversation, I invited him up.

That’s when things started to shift.

As we kissed on the couch, he went for a quick grab of my breast and dove straight into the sexual. Not my tempo. I’m more of a soft-touch, slow-build gal. I gently told him so, and he nodded. I went to change into lingerie, giving them both time to relax and, hopefully, warm up the vibe a bit.

But when I came back out, they were both sitting silently on the bed—on their phones. Not chatting, not connecting. Just scrolling.

I climbed onto the bed between them, hoping to change the energy. But it wasn’t clicking. And here’s something I’ve learned: awkwardness can sometimes be overcome, but a truly off vibe? It rarely transforms into magic. It might become “fine,” but I’ve never seen it turn into something amazing.

So I called it.

“I think we’re done here,” I said gently. “I’m just not feeling it.”

It startled them both. “Oh—ok,” the guy said, surprised.

“It’s not personal,” I added. “The vibe just isn’t happening.”

He got dressed quickly and left. It was a little awkward, sure—but honestly, no more awkward than that couch kiss. And afterward, my husband and I had our own play session—which, not surprisingly, went far better with just the two of us.

Later, I asked if the guy had followed up. He had—just a polite thank-you and goodbye. No drama. No fallout. Just a night that didn’t go the way we hoped, and that was okay.

Because this is the thing: you will never regret honoring yourself in the moment. I could have pushed through, tried to salvage the mood, used some good ol’ “elbow grease.” But that didn’t feel right, and that’s the point—it’s not about having a rule. It’s about cultivating self-trust. And self-trust, like any trust, is built over time—one honest decision at a time.

Every experience teaches you something. Sometimes it's “well, that didn’t feel good,” and other times it’s “yes—that feeling is what I want to follow.”

The more you practice listening to yourself—especially in moments of vulnerability—the more you realize how much freedom you actually have. Freedom from obligation. From pressure. From pretending. And with that freedom comes power: to choose, to shift, to speak.

I heard something on the We Can Do Hard Things podcast once that stuck with me: That this life might just be about learning to make the decisions that disappoint others—but not yourself.

So if you need a voice in your head in those tricky moments, feel free to borrow mine. Or Glennon’s. But ultimately, tune in to your own.

You’ll know what to do.