My ex-husband lives in a homeless shelter, and there’s nothing I can do about it. In the six years since I took my children and left, he has deteriorated into a person I hardly recognize.
I started to read something today, about the #WhyIStayed stories trending on the interwebs. These are the stories of abuse victims, and you can either Google or check out Twitter if you are interested. I had to stop reading at one point, because some of the words hit so close to where I live. My secret is that I stayed because I wasn’t strong enough to leave. And it took me a long time to forgive myself for that.
Today I am strong. I am independent. I am also guarded, and slow to trust. It affects me, every day, and it affects my relationships. So be it.
Special Man and I are in a new, solid place with each other. I’ve come out to my children; my mother. My Meta CC is coming to meet the kids in a couple of days. We have pizza and Uno planned. I am both optimistic, and terrified. I want it all. I want my big happy poly family fantasy.
But I’ve been disappointed before.
Poly Nirvana 
It’s hard to keep being brave and risking what we need to risk for a shot at the things we want. I worry often that big big happy poly family dream is a dream and it will evaporate. We don’t have the luxury of the myth that what we are doing is foolproof like we would growing up on disney princesses and getting married. We KNOW what we are risking. We know absolutely that it’s a risk. It’s of course true that ALL relationships are a risk. It’s also true that never risking is a choice too. It’d mean less heartbreak, but it’d mean less happiness too. So, we stick our necks out and dare it. I’m happy for you sweetie and my fingers are crossed for you too. I think it’s pretty awesome.