"Hey Dr. Josh, my partner and I have been together for 8 years and always thought monogamy was our forever plan. Lately, though, we've both been wondering if there's something… more? Not fully open, but maybe a little more flexibility? Any thoughts?" – Curious in Coconut Grove
Whenever people start circling the idea of "more," I encourage them to slow way down and get curious before getting concrete. Most of the time, more isn't about adding people (even though that is a fun exercise) or changing labels. It's about widening the lens on intimacy itself. Before talking about structure, I like to anchor couples in shared values.
Things like honesty, safety, curiosity, and care.
One grounding question I often offer is: If something feels missing right now, how would you describe the feeling of that absence, rather than the solution you think will fix it? That question alone can shift the entire conversation. Meeting with a dyad, one partner felt like their spouse wasn't emotionally deep enough to swim through their experience of their work self, the political weight and oppressiveness, and found themselves missing that level of seen-ness and attunement. They appreciated their spouse's authenticity and varying emotional intelligence, but still felt wanting, as they identify as a supreme empath.
From there, it helps to rethink intimacy as a spectrum of pleasure rather than a narrow list of approved acts. Pleasure can look like sex, sure, but it can also look like inside jokes, long hugs, cooking together, showering together, reading on the couch with your feet touching, or self-pleasuring while your partner stays present. The activity matters less than the shared regulation and co-creation.
When folx in relationships expand their definition of intimacy, they often discover there's already more available than they realized. The buffet is huge if you let yourself look around. Could you imagine paying an overinflated price for a buffet of options and only going to that dark corner of the serving lines to get tacos time and time again? So. Much. More.
This kind of exploration almost always brings up a mix of grief and excitement. Grief for the version of the relationship that's shifting, and excitement for what might become possible. That's normal. Change doesn't mean something is broken; it often means people are growing. Just as we allow ourselves to evolve over time, our relationships can evolve too if we give them permission.
Ultimately, the goal isn't choosing the "right" structure or label. It's building a relationship that feels connected, honest, and pleasurable for the people inside it.
And that's the real work.
Add These to Your Reading List (alongside Heated Rivalry, I know you already have):
Designer Relationships by Mark A. Michaels: I love this paper temptation because it gives folx permission to be curious about default settings without implying that something is wrong or incorrect. It treats relationships like living systems you get to co-create, not rigid contracts you inherit. The book invites curiosity and queerness around values, boundaries, and desires in a way that feels expansive rather than destabilizing. It's an appetizer for conversations that help people ask, "What actually works for us?" instead of "What are we supposed to want?"
Come Together by Emily Nagoski: This is one of my favorite resources for helping couples understand how desire really works in long-term relationships. It blends neuroscience, attachment, and real-life examples in a way that feels validating rather than prescriptive. I love how it creates a level playing field around differences and frames intimacy as something that can be intentionally cultivated, not magically maintained.
Dr. Josh Littleton, LMHC, ABS, CST, is a clinical sexologist and Florida-based counselor. His work focuses on LGBTQIA+ affirming care, intimacy exploration, and emotional processing, and he's especially interested in adult play therapy.
