Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory


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~Really~

I really don’t get people sometimes.

I spent my morning supporting a family through a patient’s death.  All I can really say, is that as a hospice nurse, my perspective is constantly being refocused.  There are big things happening to people, everywhere, all the time, and we don’t even realize it.  Today someone’s father died.  Someone lost a child, a mother, a friend.  There is so much going on in the world, and most of us get to be oblivious.

After I left this family, I went to Sonic.  I needed to sit in my car and decompress.  I ordered a diet cherry lime-aid and I planned to space out on Facebook for a few minutes before heading to my office to do paperwork.

Well.

I moderate a small local poly discussion group on Facebook, with CC.  We have 80 people or so, and it’s had some slow growth, but it’s been a solid little group.  Yesterday someone posted that she was having her first poly “date” tonight.  She was excited and engaged.  It was adorable.

Today someone posted that her husband was going out with someone “repulsive” and so unattractive that it was gross.  “Gross”!  (I can’t even imagine someone saying this!)   Do you see where this is going? The girl from last night was going out with the husband of the girl who posted today.  I was appalled.

I came late in the conversation, apparently it had gotten heated and very ugly, and while the group rallied, people were upset and defensive, and the thread was deleted, I think by the original poster.

People act like this?  I just don’t get it.  At this point, I want to delete this person from the group…but maybe that’s not the right thing.  From what I understand, yes, she did know that the girl her husband was going out with was in the group, which pretty much makes her post a passive aggressive personal attack, and that makes me sick.

Yes, the excited girl from last night canceled the date, and I don’t blame her.  I certainly wouldn’t want to engage with someone when the potential metamour is either that jealous, insecure, or just plain mean.

The end.


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~Atlanta~

I did it.

I flew to Atlanta, presented two classes at Atlanta Poly Weekend, and flew home.  I did not get lost, I did not miss any flights.  I navigated an entire three days of high level social interaction, on my own.  I knew a handful of people, and that made a huge difference.  My friend Amul was very much my saving grace, and I hope he knows it.  He picked me up from the airport, and delivered me to the conference hotel, even though he had plans that night with other friends.  He graciously extended an open invitation to me to join them, but I needed to prepare for my classes, and some alone time in a hotel room sounded perfect.

I forgot a few important things, first, my camera, which was disappointing because I love doing portraits, and a poly con would be an awesome place for some divine people shots.  And the second thing I forgot, was my hair product.  Now, don’t laugh. A curly haired girl in Atlanta with no hair product… I almost cried!  But I learned a wonderful thing.

Nobody cares.  I had a great time, and my curly hair did too…

I met a new friend, who was interesting and funny, and ended up talking me through using the public transportation system in Atlanta to get myself to the airport for my return flight.  It seems silly, I mean I function in my every day life as a competent single woman, with all sorts of responsibilities and things I’m in charge of, but I was amazingly overwhelmed in Atlanta.  I’m truly a small town girl, and I didn’t even realize it until I wasn’t in the small town for a few days.

I led an amazing discussion on polyamory and mental health.  It was so very well received, and I am positive I got as much out of it as I put into it.  Such wonderful and self aware people and the discussion was just fantastic.

My cute new friend attended my solo poly discussion and stood out as very well spoken and thoughtful in his contributions to the conversation.  He sent me a text a few days ago, saying he was looking forward to reading my blog write up about the weekend…  He needs a name, so I’m naming him Texas.  Not particularly original, but it suits him.

I wish I had a hot and heavy encounter in an elevator to write about, but the truth is I fell asleep on his shoulder my last night in Atlanta, in the middle of a story he was telling me, and he gathered me and my things up and walked me back to the room I was sharing with Amul. I’m shy and he’s younger than me, and he’s very pretty.  The next day he made sure I made it onto the MARTA so I could make my flight home, and I found myself wishing I had another day to hang out and hear the rest of his story.

I have two potential dating partners here, not counting Special Man Friend, but I’m stuck or something.  I feel a little whiny and worn out, like a three year old who needs a nap.  “But I don’t wanna get to know new people.  I don’t WANNA date.”

Except that I really do want additional connections, and dating and newness, and everything that goes along with it, is the process.  I see SMF, and how energized he gets with new potential connections, and honestly I’m envious of the enjoyment he gets out of that great unknown.  Where he gets excited, I get a stomach ache.

I need a nap.   


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~Community~

I go back and forth about the poly community.

Let’s backtrack.  There’s not much of a poly community here.  It’s a small-ish, conservative, fairly religious area.  Polyamory is still considered immoral by a lot of people, even if they aren’t religious at all.  I wasn’t out as poly for a long time, and now, though I’m mostly out, it’s a quiet “out”.  My friends and family know my partner is married, and that his wife is actively supportive.  They know I’m non-monogamous.  Sometimes I think it makes a couple of them uncomfortable, but I haven’t had anyone aggressively confront me with negativity, or drop me as a friend (or as a sister, or as a daughter.)

This is why community is so important to me.

I want to be around people who embrace my choices.  Not simply tolerate them.

I don’t consider myself a poly activist, but since I WANT community, I have to go out and pretend to be one.  Except I’m kind of shy.  (Also, sometimes people annoy me and I just want to stay in bed.)  What I really need is a fairy godmother who will conjure me a fully functioning polyamorous community, complete with established events and nice people.

Ugh.

So tonight, I was Googling “polyamory community”, in an attempt to find an article that I could share in my (very small) local super secret Facebook group, about how to build a community.  I want people to get proactive with networking and socializing, so that I can, selfishly, have my dream community.

I didn’t really find an appropriate article.  So I’m writing instead.

Why community is important, by Me.

1)  We get to learn about ourselves, by learning about others.

2)  We get inspired and encouraged by the examples of other people.

3)  We get to see how other styles of relationships work.  (Or don’t work.)

4)  We get to have fun!  We get to socialize, and laugh, and eat, and do things!

5)  We get to create our own social norms, within our groups.

6)  We get to feel accepted.  We get to belong.  We get to love, and be loved.

Community.  I want it.

 

 

 


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~Flight~

Wendover, Nevada.

Oh my goodness: A thirty eight minute flight on a plane which was filled with excited and chatty senior citizens.  Special Man Friend found a dirt cheap weekend package, and apparently it’s very popular with the over 65 crowd.  It’s been a good giggle. (I know I’m no spring chicken.  But come on!  I’ve got fifteen years until I’m even sixty!)

We are here until tomorrow.  It’s been good for me I think.  Mostly the sleep.  SMF played poker last night, and I slept from 8:30 on.

Wait.  Maybe I am ready to be part of the Senior’s Fun Tour.  Darn.

SMF saw Mrs. A several times in the last week.  It was hard for me.  I hate that it’s hard for me.  I am trying to be gentle with myself. I have been able to relax more about his weekly date with her.  But midway through his third time seeing her in a week, I just had reached some kind of critical mass.  It doesn’t matter how secure I am in the fact that he loves me.  It doesn’t matter how reassuring he is.  It doesn’t matter how many self-love techniques I use, or poly books I read.

I am a poly girl, with a mono- minded heart. I work hard to be happy.  I am loved, and I know that SMF will be there for me, whatever I need.  But man, it’s hard sometimes. I  am not sure how to navigate this specific issue. In three and a half years with him, I haven’t ever had to deal with him having three dates with someone else in a single week.  It sounds silly when I type it out, but it is not silly. I am a good person with real feelings.  I have to forgive myself for struggling, because the last thing I need is to be mad at myself for having feelings.

So do I suck it up and deal?  Do I ask him to slow down a little for my sanity?  Do I just wait and see if it happens again?  I think this week may have been a fluke, but I was completely blindsided by the intensity of my discomfort.  CC is out of town, and there has been so much going on the last few weeks, that date nights have been moved around and his time with Mrs. A has been inconsistent.  I tell myself that he has consistently been there for me, and I am not losing time with him.

But there’s still part of me that is uncomfortable.  I think I’m afraid.  Afraid that he doesn’t have room for all three of us, and that I will get the proverbial boot. Afraid that she is cuter, funner (funner is totally a word), thinner, newer, smiley-er, easier, simpler, sexier… happier.     And who wouldn’t want to be around someone who was happy.

Things have been really heavy lately.  Special Man has not once, batted an eye about taking on what he can in an effort to support me, and to support my kids. He is my best friend, and my biggest supporter. The bulk of my life falls on me, and he knows that.  But when he steals me away for a cup of coffee, or lets me cry while he holds me, or takes the kids to the library he gives me the chance to breathe.  The chance to regroup.  The chance to find some peace again.  He honors his commitment to me.

That’s what my logic tells me.  I wish my little emotional heart would listen to my amazingly logical brain.  Damn heart.

I’m sitting on the fringes of a noisy, smokey casino, with a very bad cup of coffee, while he upstairs in our room, stealing a nap for an hour.  (The biggest shock to my system on this little trip has been the smoke filled casinos. In Idaho, you can’t smoke in public places unless you’re in a designated smoking area, so this level of second hand smoke is making me nuts!)

Tomorrow we head home.  I feel good.  I had a doctor’s appointment a few days ago (a follow up for my cancer history)  and she found a few things in my bloodwork that we are hopeful will be able to be corrected with changes in medication and , supplements and I’m making a six week recovery plan to deal with the physical and emotional aftermath of the last few months.

I feel positive.  I’m looking forward.


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~Hi~

I’ve got holiday burnout.

(What?  Already?)

Yep.

I think my enthusiasm tank was running low after Georgia’s surgery, which I haven’t written much about.  There were complications.  She’s fine.  Mostly.

Yesterday we had our “official” Christmas dinner.  We did it early. I am working the Christmas holiday this year, which means I work 12 hours on Christmas Eve, and 12 hours on the night of Christmas Day.  And that’s really okay.  It’s my turn, and I’m fortunate, being in healthcare, that I only work every third Christmas.  Anyway, Special Man and CC came for dinner and movies.  I had a puzzle for the kids.  Rabies kitten the kids had named it, for the whipped cream froth on the kitten’s mouth (from drinking hot chocolate, while wearing a Santa hat, of course).

It really was peaceful. Low key.  Nobody had to entertain anyone.

I am working on my own peace. I’m starting to feel like the crotchety old lady who is always yelling at the youngsters to “get off her lawn!”  Everyone kind of annoys me.  It’s not a pleasant state to be in.  Friends, family, strangers.  I want them all to go away;to go live their small lives away from mine.  People are loud, and stupid.  They say stupid things and make stupid choices with their stupid faces.

So do I, I suppose.

This will pass.  I’m being nice to myself.  I’m managing expectations for a quiet low-key Christmas with the kids.  Mostly though, I’ll be asleep on Christmas day.

And that’s okay.

My poly has settled into something that doesn’t feel like Poly with a capital P any more.  It’s just life.  It just IS.  It’s a good place to be.


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~Reviewed~

In the middle of the summer, I was contacted with a offer of an advanced copy of a new book on polyamory, and a request to review it on my blog.  The book has since been released, and at least once a week, my partner pokes me and says, “Hey, did you write your review yet?”

No, I haven’t.  I’ve never reviewed a book before, and I keep thinking that there’s some dry, intellectual, and boring format that Official Book Reviews are supposed to follow, and I’ve been putting it off.  And putting it off.  So, this morning, as I sit in my favorite coffee shop, I’ve decided to write my own kind of review.

When I first started to learn about polyamory,  I was very interested to read about different experiences with open relationships.  I didn’t know anyone else “like me”, a single person doing polyamory. I started reading the standard, recommended poly books, and quickly realized that the bulk of information out there was for couples. Even chapters that referred to “secondary” relationships, seemed more about how to manage primary couplehood, in spite of “outside” relationships, rather than how to just be a good person, with healthy and whole relationships. I felt outside. I was the outside relationship; all the books said so. This ultimately sparked my own involvement in the larger poly community, my writing, my discussion group, my love and desire for community.

I didn’t want to like “More Than Two”, by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert.  I’ll admit it.  I’m a tough customer, and I think that comes from having to muddle through a lot of popular polyamorous muck in order to arrive at my own vision of happy and healthy relationships. (I believe I’m an optimistic cynic, however, so there is that.)

This book is a fantastic resource for anyone looking for a thoughtful, reasonable approach to polyamory, no matter who you are.

(That’s it. That’s my review.)

The things I look for in healthy poly relationships, are the things I look for in any human relationship. Polyamory doesn’t excuse anyone from being a good and kind human being.  Healthy relationships, whether with lovers, friends, co-workers, or family, include such things as responsibility, boundaries, communication, nurturing, and self-care.  “More Than Two”, offers a realistic and rational approach to being a whole person, who is mindful of self, and of others.

~finis 

(Have you read “More Than Two”?  What did you think?  Comments welcome!)


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~Strange~

Tomorrow morning is our monthly poly potluck.  It’s a community thing, and it ranges from a handful of people, to around twenty people, depending on the month.  I don’t always attend, as I generally work Sunday nights, and I like to be home with the kids and then I sleep in the afternoon.  This month I’m off, and I’m going.

I got a message from Mrs. A, asking me, that if she decided to go would I go as well, or would I stay home.

(Ugh. I don’t want to do this.)

She and I haven’t spoken or had even a polite kind of resolution to The Episode. I know it’s going to have to happen.  I hate conflict.  It makes my stomach hurt.  I told her no, I probably wouldn’t go if she decided to go, since we hadn’t hadn’t talked yet.  I can’t do the awkward, stilted, not-conversation tomorrow.

My counselor asked me, would I consider a thirty day “respite” period, wherein I give myself permission to not make any decisions about how to move forward, as I’ve been pretty focused on what on earth I was going to DO, what was best, what was reasonable, what was both kind to her and still mindful of my own boundaries.

I told her, Yes, I was going. She told me, she would not.

I don’t like this one bit. But I don’t know what else to do.

I am exhausted, I have not caught up from my few nights in the hospital with Leo. Last night was date night. Special Man and I had a quick dinner close to my house, and wandered an awesome toy store for a little bit before coming home and watching a movie with my kids.  It was perfect.  We climbed into my bed, and did little: random small talk, internet. I curled up and slept, he did not.

It was wonderful.

He woke me after a couple of hours, and made love to me.  It was warm and comfortable, and when it was over, it wasn’t over.  I cried.

He’s used to it, these tears that belong to him.

I cried because I was safe.  I cried because I was happy.  I cried because I have so much more than I ever expected, and I cried because still, I want more.

And I cried, because I know, it will come.

In the morning, I woke early and left him in my bed while I had coffee and worked on the computer.  He sent me a message.  You should come upstairs and kiss me.  

So I did.  This time there were no tears.