Human desire is astonishingly diverse. What excites one person may do absolutely nothing for another, and that difference is not a flaw—it’s simply part of being human. We rarely agree on what is “sexy,” and that disagreement is not only inevitable, but healthy.

There are entire worlds of attraction that I personally don’t understand. Some people find excitement through words on a screen, through imagination alone, crafting entire experiences out of text and suggestion. While it doesn’t resonate with me, it clearly resonates deeply with others.

There are also interests that make me uncomfortable, not because they are unfamiliar, but because they collide with my personal boundaries or values. It’s important to say this plainly: desire is only acceptable when it is consensual, ethical, and confined to adults. Outside of that, it stops being a preference and becomes harm. However –between two adults– many people engage in adult baby play, daddy/daughter play, or Little play. While these aren’t things I’m personally comfortable with, I don’t judge what they enjoy.

And, I recognize that I enjoy things others have no interest in whatsoever. I’m drawn to intensity, to structured fantasies, to the idea of imagination becoming real through shared trust and play. I love the creativity of roleplay—the way it allows people to step outside themselves and explore safely.

The truth is simple: you don’t have to like what I like, and I don’t have to like what you like.

Of course, our reactions aren’t always fixed. Sometimes something that initially feels strange—or even off-putting—changes once it’s understood or experienced in a safe, respectful way. I’ve seen how trying something new can surprise a person, especially when it offers relief from anxiety or allows them to inhabit a role that feels easier than simply being themselves.

There are limits. Some ideas simply never become comfortable, no matter how much time passes. Recognizing that boundary is just as important as exploring new ones. When that happens, it may mean accepting that no single relationship can fulfill every desire—and that’s not a failure.

For me, this realization made room for a broader understanding of relationships. Different people can meet different needs, whether emotional, intellectual, or physical, as long as honesty and consent guide those connections. Not everyone is equipped for that kind of emotional openness, and that’s okay too. For those who can handle it, I think polyamory is a good way to deal with people you love not necessarily sharing all of your kinks.

I always tell people to take some time with each idea. Never refuse anything outright. Let it marinade in your imagination for a while, and then tell your partner what you think. Sometimes you cozy up to an idea when you let it hang out in your head. Other times, you don’t. But you should never say no before giving the idea time to percolate. When people do this, it reminds me of a child being offered a new food and saying: “No, I hate it!” (Before even trying it.) Don’t be a child saying no to watermelon.

Most of the time, it won’t hurt you to try something new.

Trying something doesn’t mean it will define you forever. Sometimes a desire dissolves once it’s explored. Other times, it deepens. There’s no way to know which until experience replaces imagination. Wanting something intensely doesn’t guarantee it will last, and discovering you don’t enjoy something can be just as valuable as discovering that you do.

What matters most is refusing resentment—toward yourself or others. People are allowed to like what they like, and they’re allowed not to like what they don’t. Difference doesn’t make us incompatible by default; it makes the world more interesting.

If we were all the same, desire would be dull, relationships would be simple in the worst way, and curiosity would disappear. Variety is not the problem. The lack of understanding is.