Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory


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~Bust~

April is almost gone.

I did not find a date.  I’m pretty much the most monogamous poly person I know.

~Ginger

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~Soliloquy~

I want my brain to quiet and simply be.

I want to be alone in the place that teaches me that I am stronger than I think, that I am whole, that I am complete.

I want to sink into the depths of myself, where I slowly, gently, touch those dark corners of my inner core, feeling with my ethereal fingertips, the grit and grime that needs to be purged. Let me sit with it. Make me let go of the pretense, the pressure, the expectations. Give me permission to embrace my imperfection. Take me there. Hold me under the thickness, make me feel the weight of it on top of me, and when I thrash and fight to come up for air, push me down again, and again, and keep me there, until the acceptance of my strength and my choice finally comes, and the pain dims and holds me, like a cloak, and I am free to gather it around me and pull it close. I want to clutch that pain to me, drawing it in closer with each breath, until I am at once, reduced to the very essence of self, and set free from the confinement of everything that is me.

Once I am there, stand guard. Keep me safe and watch over me, until, after a time, you reach down and pull me out. Bring me back with steady insistence, that yes, I am loved. Yes, I am flawed and I am broken and I am imperfect, and still, you see my exquisite resolve to embrace the darkness that swirls within my light. For it is this balance that I desperately crave.


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~In Brief~

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” -Jack Canfield

What I’m really afraid of is that I don’t have it in me to do this hard thing well. That I’m not loving enough, understanding enough, selfless enough. That I don’t have it in me, to do good poly. That I will get too tired; too weary.

Some days I just don’t want to think about it any more. I don’t want to communicate, I don’t want to be mindful, I don’t want to be in it for the greater good. I want to have what I want, what I need, NOW. I don’t want to wait.

I love the theory of polyamory. But sometimes, the practice of poly is exhausting.

The end.


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~ Wednesday ~

Place your hands upon me
like a big tent preacher
and with a whisper
heal all that aches
inside.
Put your lips upon my
forehead and glance your
eyes to the sky,
tell me that I’ll walk
again and tell me
I can fly.
Hold me like a revival
and shake the demons
from my skin,
touch me like a fever
and kiss me like
a sin.

~Tyler Knott Gregson


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~Ode To The Pet Name~

I am outspoken, opinionated, and difficult. I have a hard, cynical edge. I laugh too loudly, judge too harshly. I am impatient and short tempered. I am independent. Driven. Feisty. Logical to a fault. Jaded.

Sometimes I lay awake in the dark, fighting with the demon that whispers to me that I’m not good enough. Not good enough in my work; not good enough at home. Just not. I crave perfection, and rarely attain anything close unto it.

And then.

Then he calls me Princess. He calls me pumpkin, buttercup, cupcake. I am his pet, his strawberry, his lemon drop. He speaks to me, soft and sure: “Kitten,” he says to me, and my world goes silent.

And in that moment, I am me. The very truest me. The me who exists without expectation or pretense. I am not an impatient, difficult woman. I’m just a girl.And I am his.

Everything else fades, and my mind quiets. I exist, in my core, at the center of my body. Waiting. My mind is still. I am his princess: beautiful, treasured, good and kind. I am his kitten: adorable, playful, wanted. I am everything he ever says I am… a deliciously sweet cupcake, a luscious, juicy strawberry, a treasured and loved pet.

And in that moment, for just a moment, what I desperately crave is finally mine. Because for a time, I am exactly what he wants. I breathe him in, and I breathe out perfection.


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~Constellation~

It’s been almost a year since my son was in a fairly serious car accident, and was taken via Life Flight to a hospital in Seattle in an attempt to save one of his kidneys.

Special Man Friend and I had been dating for almost eight months at that point. We knew we loved each other. We had said the words. But I was holding back. Scared. I had almost talked myself into ending the relationship. Despite knowing that I loved this man, it just felt so hard. I did not know what good poly looked like, and I was afraid. I was new to non-monogamy, and Man Friend (let’s just call him SMF) and Meta (his wife) had some specific and limited experience, but Meta and I were still cautiously circling each other, trying to figure out how to relate to each other as two women who shared a significant partner. Because of these two things, I worried that the relationship I had with my guy would not have the chance to progress and that I had hit a ceiling as his “date-night girlfriend”; that the relationship he had within his marriage was the REAL relationship, and that I was just an accessory to his real life. A distraction. A hobby.

The night of the accident was an absolute turning point in our relationship. I texted SMF on the way to the hospital, and within a few minutes, he and Meta had offered to meet me there. No, I said, I thought that my son was doing okay and I would let them know if I needed anything. Within a couple of hours, things became complicated with my child, and the decision was made to transport him to Seattle. I had nothing with me except my purse as I had come directly from work at another hospital, and was wearing surgical scrubs. I was panicked. My guy came to check on us. He sat in the parking lot with me as I cried, before the transport team arrived. Without hesitation, he said to me, “I will come.”

Within an hour, my son and I were in the air flying toward Washington, and my sweetheart had called his boss, packed a bag for himself, gone to my house to pack a bag for me, filled up his car, and was on the road to Seattle. He came. He stayed. He held my hand and bought me coffee. He sat with my son. And after a few days, when my son was angry and hurting, this man, who I now love with all my heart, sent me away to try and sleep, and he walked the halls and talked with my child. I was not a hobby then, and I am not a hobby now.

I am his real life.

I know that having him away from home and with me for that period of time was a sacrifice for my Metamour, and at the time, I felt humbled and grateful, even guilty, that she supported him in supporting me. I felt like I was taking something away from her by claiming those hours, those days, for myself. I felt like I was overstepping my “place” as the girlfriend.

A year later, and my perspective has widened a little. We don’t exist in a vacuum. We can’t. We all live and love within a network where each of us affects and is affected by the others. We give what we can, and we take what we need. Each of us. And hopefully, our little poly universe shifts and changes to meet the needs of each individual, and in the end, there are the resources available to go around when they are needed.

One of the things that appeals to me about polyamory, is the idea of this extended poly network, or as one of my people calls it, “our little poly constellation”. I admit, this phrase makes me giggle a little, as it sounds just a little romantic and idealized. I am a relative newcomer to the concept of an interdependent, loving, and vested group of people who genuinely want good things for each other, but I am slowly relaxing into the thought that maybe, this just might work.