Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory

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Special Man Friend and his wife came for cards and pizza.  It was the first time CC met my children.

I cleaned my kitchen and sent one of the boys to pick up pizza. I was really nervous.  When I came out to my kids as poly, I was genuinely surprised at the neutrality of their reactions.  The worst I got was, “Huh.  That’s kind of weird.” and the best was, “Hey, the important thing is that you are happy.”

But meeting Special Man’s wife?  I wanted it to happen. I want the big happy poly extended family.  It’s been a long time coming, this first meeting, and truthfully, there was a time I didn’t think it was possible that we would ever make this step.

Life is full of surprises.  We are constantly changing and evolving as human creatures, and I am so grateful for that.

The whole thing was uneventful.  My kids were polite, well mannered, accepting.  My 19 year old had told me in advance that he was supportive but uncomfortable, and wasn’t sure if he would stay and hang out, and I was happy that he was able to tell me that.  He did meet CC, and stayed for a few minutes, but soon retreated.  We ate dinner, and then played a few rounds of cutthroat Uno, and it was easy, and casual, and relaxed.

We are already planning Thanksgiving.  Things feel good.

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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.




I’m in the mountains this week.  It’s green and lovely, and I can hear myself think.

My main thought last week:  Poly is hard, y’all.

This week?

Relationships are hard.

Special Man and I broke up.  Nothing is ever all good, or all bad.  No person, no relationship.  But poly is especially hard.  Especially when we are taught that good poly means that all your needs do not need to be met by a single relationship, and that it’s okay to take the good from a relationship and look elsewhere for your other needs.

But I wasn’t doing that.

I made a huge space in my life for SMF.  And he tried to fill it, within the parameters of the smaller space he had for me in his life.  But I found myself always settling.  Adjusting.  Making due.

It was painful for me.  And painful for him.  I thought that we were working towards a similar vision of poly, but I realized about a month ago that I was wrong.  He is a good man.  I love him, madly.  But we want different things.

The question now is, can we maintain any kind of relationship, any level of contact, where I can make space for another person, or people, and still remain involved with this man who has taught me so much about myself and about the world?

I’m honestly not sure.  How do you make a relationship … less?  You can allocate less time.  You can mandate less contact.  But emotional and mental space?  That’s the tricky bitch.  He wants to find a way that we can stay in each other’s lives.  And I’m not so sure.

I’m not dating anyone else.  I’m not involved with anyone else.  I’m choosing to be alone, rather than make SMF a default partner.  I want to be healthy, and happy, and open to possibilities.  Open to new connections.  And I didn’t allow myself that, three years into this poly relationship.  I made him my priority, instead of myself.  And our dynamic developed to the point where he expected to be my priority, and I don’t think it was healthy for either one of us.  There was a lot of hurt, a lot of expectation that went unmet.

It’s nobody’s fault, and it’s both of our faults.




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.)    




It always is, isn’t it.

I’m not even talking specifically about relationship structures, and interpersonal interactions. I’m just talking about LIFE. Making sure that there’s milk in the fridge and toilet paper in the closet, and that you take your iron pill every day. Keeping an eye on the laundry so that you aren’t being shaken awake by a child on a cold school morning because he can’t find any clean socks. Birthdays, and car registration, and paying the electric bill on time.

Oh and don’t forget doctor’s appointments, puppies,car troubles, and ex-husbands while you’re also working full time and wanting a little bit of a social life, for which you struggle to not feel guilty over.

So what’s the modern woman to do, with so much on her plate?

Find more to do! Do all the things!

Yes, I’ve got it down. I’m researching a new camera and signing up for a photography class! I need a challenge and I need art. Special Man Friend gave me a subscription to some photo magazines, and now I just have to settle on a camera.

Today I got my nose pierced. I don’t know why exactly, except I’ve been dying to do it for a couple of months. I think SMF was tired of hearing me talk about it, because he made the call, and drove me over while we were together today doing mundane, every day, LIFE things. I picked a tiny iridescent opal stud that I love. Opals are my birthstone, and I’ve always liked them.

Now I can’t wait to get a tattoo!



Oh my.

CC’s parents are here in town for Thanksgiving. CC’s siblings are coming tomorrow, they are planning a big dinner with both turkey and lamb, and they are spending most of this week doing family things. I’m not exactly sure what spurred CC and Special Man to decide that this would be a good time for them to come out as poly to her parents, but they did. I haven’t had a chance to hear the details of how the conversation when this morning, but SM texted me mid-afternoon and said it was “a little awkward, but okay. As long as we’re happy they’re happy.”

So tonight, 6:30pm found me sitting in my car, in the parking lot of the sushi restaurant where Special Man and I had our first date more than two years ago, psyching myself up to go in and have dinner with my boyfriend, his wife, her boyfriend and his wife’s parents.

I was freaking out, gentle readers.

Not because I expected anything dramatic. I was fairly confident that there wouldn’t be any talk of polyamory specifics, and that I wouldn’t be fielding any difficult questions. It was just completely surreal. I’m on the verge of being completely out as a person that I absolutely never envisioned, for most of my adult life. Two of my sons and I have had fairly in depth conversations in the last 24 hours, and they know that meeting CC is forthcoming. They know that she and SM have been together for many years and that they live together.

Somehow, the kicker for me, is the fact that they are married. I have stopped short of telling them that part, but I refuse to have them meet her until I’m able to say it, knowing that once I do say it, I am completely and totally out to my entire family. I am letting them absorb, or at least I’m telling myself that I am letting them absorb before I give them this final bit of information.

I raised my now teenaged children very conservatively, in an extreme religious environment for most of their childhoods. I am living a life and teaching them things now, that are completely at odds with where we were ten years ago. I am afraid that this will be too much for them. That they will be angry, confused. I mean, really, even I was confused when I first started exploring polyamory. Of course they will be confused.

Dinner was pleasant. CC’s parents are adorable and kind and just downright nice. CC’s boyfriend, who I can’t think of a clever name for, was also there, and that helped my comfort level a little bit. I kind of wondered what they were thinking about this whole situation, but everyone seemed content with small talk, and so I certainly wasn’t going to interrogate them.

I’ve felt a bit emotionally distant from SM since we got back from Ohio. I can’t put my finger on why exactly. It was hard for me to be with him for those four days, and then not have him here at all. It’s almost as if I’m having some Partner Withdrawal. I need a hit, man!

This afternoon the kids and I had a mini-Thanksgiving ourselves, as I have to work both Wednesday and Thursday nights this year, and will be sleeping all day Thursday in between my shifts. My brood will spend Thanksgiving day with my mother, and I’m grateful for that, as it lessens my Mommy guilt just a little.

Tonight, as I left the sushi place, CC’s father hugged me and it really did feel good, and okay. I’m interested to talk with her, and find out what it means to her to be out to her parents. Though I’m out to my own father, I am fairly apprehensive to have that conversation with my mother.

But it needs to happen soon. If only so my brain will stop thinking about it.

Good night, little brain.



Someone asked me a question last night that was much harder to answer than I expected it to be.

“So what’s your kink, Ginger?” he asked.

I like some kinky things, and I dislike others. I love fire. I dislike electricity. My feet are a crazy hot erogenous zone, and respond to all sorts of things. I enjoy thuddy impact; but I do like enduring stingy impact. I’m not a huge fan of rope, though I like being restrained and constricted. I love a struggle.

But that wasn’t really the question.

I’ve been thinking on this all morning. I’ve often said, that my favorite thing about the kink community is all the people I have the chance to meet and know, people I might not ever have crossed paths with in my day to day life, had I not found this circle of association. I love the diversity and range of personalities and experiences that I get to interact with; those connections, whether brief or ongoing, serve to teach me things about myself, and about who I am.


In the end, my kink is not the people themselves. It’s the dance. It’s that energy exchange which occurs with each interaction. Ultimately, it’s finding those rare people who, somehow, I simply click with. I do not play with many people, and this is because that indefinable, positive energy connection is so very important to me. When that is present, I feel safe and strong and vulnerable and open, and for me, that is the absolute hottest thing in my world. It allows me to give myself over to the dynamic, and to let it be what it’s going to be. That connection, left unlabeled, lets the dynamic develop organically and I am free to give myself over to it, without predetermined expectations of role boundaries. I love the unknown aspect of that.

I adore allowing myself those infinite possibilities with each new person who crosses my path.

So the next time someone asks me, “What’s your kink, Ginger?” I’m just going to smile and say:

“This. This is my kink. You and me, and everything that comes next. Dance with me.”