Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory



I’m holding very still.

Everything aches.  It hurts to move, it’s painful to think.  I breathe, methodically, and with intent.  A breath in, down to my toes, and then slowly I feel the air move out. I breathe in again.

I don’t feel good.  I haven’t for a while.   It makes writing hard. It makes everything hard.

I pushed myself today.  I wrote this morning, then took a short nap.  I went grocery shopping, had a quick lunch with a friend, and I stopped at another store for a few things for tomorrow night when two of my girlfriends are coming over for some girl time with snacks and wine.  I couldn’t take another wasted day, another day when the most I could manage was to get dressed and brush my teeth.

I have a health history that I don’t and probably won’t talk about here.  My identity isn’t tied to those things, though I acknowledge they are part of my story.

Today I am just tired and discouraged.

On a positive note, Special Man and I have had some honest, even difficult conversations of late, and I’m making a focused effort over the next two months to expand my own poly circles.  It was hard for me to say the words, “This isn’t working for me.”  I am conscientiously making  emotional and mental space for new relationships.  I have found myself so comfortable, so settled in my relationship with him, that it is challenging for me to be open to others.  I’m not exactly sure how to change that, but I am working on it.

I’m tucked in bed, and I plan to sleep early and sleep hard.  Good night, friends.



I’ll be in Georgia for the Atlanta Poly Weekend in June, and I’m so excited!  I have heard wonderful things about this event, and I’m happy that my friend, the divine Miss M. will be flying down with me.  If anyone within the sound of my voice is planning to attend, I want to know about it!  (Maybe we can have a little Poly Nirvana meetup?)

Check out the presenters list…

I’m continuing to see Lady Therapist, and the process is exhausting.    As I am processing and focusing on this massive amount of baggage I’ve been carrying, I’ve been at a loss with my writing.  I miss it, but I am unsure where to go with it.  Do I force it, and write about things that I am detached from, or do I quietly wait for my inspiration to return?  My stress levels have been high, I have been dealing with irritability and headaches, and I’ve had several significant confrontations with Special Man in the recent weeks.  I’m exhausted.

So I guess I wait.  I wait for the peace that I’ve promised myself, will come when I can finally release the choices and circumstances that led me into and subsequently out of, a marriage which left me bruised and sad. I’m starting to think that it’s time to forgive that twenty-two year old girl who didn’t know what she was beginning, the day she wore that white dress.  And then the twenty-four year old woman, who almost escaped…but didn’t.  I chose to go back.  I could have made a different choice, but I didn’t.

And I’m still angry about that.

(On a positive note, I had a really good cookie today, and it made me very happy.  In that moment, it was the best thing that had happened to me all day, and I recognized it, and smiled.  It was a Swedish fruit cookie, and I hid one away for SMF to have tomorrow when he comes for dinner.  Whatever else happens, just remember…There are always cookies.)    




I’m in a small place lately.

When I say “small”, I mean simple.  Vulnerable.  A young space, like a child whose world is just as big as she is, because that’s as far as she can see.  I want to be wrapped up in a quilt and be petted and read to.

Last night I spent some time tucked in bed nurturing myself through this, with videos from an old childhood favorite, “The Slipper and The Rose.”  It was interesting to watch the songs I remember, with both new eyes, as well as my small girl’s eyes.  I remembered most of the words to the songs, so I had a quiet little sing along, and ate chocolate, in a quiet house at midnight.