Category Archives: #RelationshipReboot
Deprogramming societal messages about relationships. Creating self-actualized relationships
For the past few weeks I’ve been having conversations with people about polyamory and its potential to offer a fix or at least an alternative to common relationship issues. I believe in polyamory in part because it encourages each individual to honor their own authentic self, to directly address issues as they arise in the relationship and to participate in collaborative problem solving. Monogamy has this potential as well, but with its status as a the default relationship structure it creates a host of automated issues that tend to disintegrate the autonomy available to each partner in the relationship. By choosing polyamory people exercise that autonomy in a very real and tangible way.
But often the discussion devolves when I get this question: “so no one cheats/lies when you’re poly?”
Poly doesn’t prevent lying. Or cheating. Or betrayal. Or deceit.
Poly brings these behaviors to light much more swiftly and often more dramatically than we might see otherwise. It’s hardly assuring to someone new to poly. But because of the priority placed on the inherent values of honesty, trust, transparency and direct communication, the tolerance for deceitful behaviors is simply far lower than its monogamous counterparts.
I know, you don’t believe me. Because somewhere in the back of your head, you have this vision of a distraught wife finding out that her husband is cheating. She tears through the house in sobs, tossing him and his belongings out the door. Yes, that’s the common reaction. Because there was an expectation of sexual confinement, of fidelity and this, the dishonesty is understandable and even excuseable in today’s culture. Never mind that the cheating could not have happened without the deceitful undercurrent to the choices and actions. We’ve grown to accept, as a culture, that human beings will stray, will lie, will cheat. And while there is a sense of betrayal, there is also a sense of reluctant acceptance for the sneaking around and the lies. All while we cling to this sense of sexual and romantic confinement (or is it entitlement?) within the bounds of the relationship.
When you’re poly, the reaction isn’t much different, but the reasons are. When you are poly, you are more likely to have made a mutual agreement to be honest with one another, to not hide your attractions to other people, to remove the barriers to loving more than one person. So when a poly person is lied to, cheated on, the anger isn’t with the fidelity, it is with the deceptive practice itself…where it should have been all along. Cheating hurts more because it didn’t have to happen, because there was an underlying value for honesty. Lying is more insidious because there was no reason to cover up the truths of an attraction. The crime isn’t in the act of having sex with someone else, it’s in breaking trust with your partner(s) by choosing to lie or withhold the truth (omissions are still lies).
The reaction, yes, can be just as extreme as our monogamous example, but there is less acceptance that “oh well, this is just how everyone lives.” In a poly household, there might be a family meeting to confront the deceitful partner. Maybe there is a public shaming in other poly or kinky circles. Maybe there is just a stern, “fuck off” as someone is shoved out the door without a second chance. Regardless of how partners react, tolerance for the underlying dishonesty is rarely given in my experience.
Today I was reminded of a loved one’s deceit, a series of lies and cover-ups that have haunted me since before we broke up. I gave him more chances than my fellow polyamorists might. I recognized the conditioning that a staunchly monogamous past had left on him and that was my excuse to continuing to give him a chance. But the more I stayed, the more I saw the troubling behavior and the more it seemed to spiral out of control. The stories that later were contradicted by others. The convenient excuses that over time became harder to swallow. And when confronted he would gaslight me, shift blame and ultimately escape accountability for the choices that he made.
After almost 10 years of polyamory, I don’t regret staying with him and giving him chances. I learned a lot about my own value for honesty and a hard lesson about my own sense of self-worth. By accepting and tolerating someone else’s dishonesty, I was creating a large space to hide my own truth. A space that became a large closet of broken skeletons. A space where I convinced myself it wasn’t proper for me to be out as poly, kinky or queer. And as worried as I might be about how others might react to my truth, as a poly woman I have committed myself to living a life of authenticity, transparency and above all honesty. At some point, I needed to stop excusing my own dishonesty and I needed to trust myself to weather whatever storm might follow my disclosures.
And because my personal integrity matters more to me than enabling others’ escapist dramas bred into them by a societal expectation of secrets, I have been slowly emerging into the light again. And, for example, by being honest with my partners over the past few weeks about my fears, my wishes and my struggles, I’ve been able to get the support I need and the help I deserve. By allowing others to hide the truth, I was really allowing myself to hide my own. And now hiding has become…unbearable.
So, no polyamory doesn’t prevent cheating or lying. It will happen. But by aligning yourself with the core values of honesty and integrity, instead of surface satisfaction of singular sexual attachment, when you encounter such deception, it is much easier to recognize it, call it out and address it than it might have been otherwise. And simply put, when you choose honesty for yourself, deception will inevitably start becoming intolerable and dissatisfying, making it easier to exclude it from your life the more practice you get.
Self-awareness is a grand thing that cannot be over-emphasized as we interact with the world around us. However, some people, including myself, who make this a priority, tend to skew the viewpoint a little toward whatever story they want the world to know about them. Inevitably, with all of us, we end up with blind spots that trip us up and end up impacting others. That blind spot is usually obvious once we recognize it for what it is: a struggle within to reconcile and identify the source emotion.
So let’s just attack my blind spot emotion: Disappointment. Disappointment is a close friend with regret. However, regret is the disappointment that we apply to our own actions and disappointment is what we apply to others’ actions. Disappointment doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s often the result of creating and sustaining expectations that another will act the way that we thought they should or would. In order to identify a feeling as disappointment you have to:
a) recognize that you had expectations;
b) believe you deserved or had good reason to have those expectations;
c) placed trust in someone else to meet those expectations;
d) relied on that person’s implied, express or assumed promise to fulfill those expectations; and
e) experienced a failure of someone to meet those expectations.
Disappointment can be general (“I’m disappointed I didn’t get any email today”) or specific (“I’m disappointed that my husband forgot our anniversary”). Disappointment carries a deeper attachment to the result or even the process than ordinary breaches of social protocol. It is personal and yet sometimes we judge ourselves for reacting to something so seemingly simple.
Disappointment is a blind spot for me because I rarely believe (b), that I deserve or have good reasons to expect anything. I feel that undeservinginess so deeply that I have adjusted my whole life around that basic concept so I never have to feel disappointment in another human being. And like most things it was influenced by some distinct event at an impressionable time.
Yet, I remember making a distinct choice to stop any public celebration of my birthday on my 16th birthday. This was the birthday where my boyfriend ditched me to have a drugged-out one night stand with a co-worker. I swallowed the disappointment, the heartbreak because I felt so unworthy of the expectation of fidelity or honesty or to be special on my 16th birthday. And I made a conscious decision that I didn’t want to be hurt like that again so i prohibited any celebration by family and friends from that time forward.
What is the old saying? If you don’t expect anything, you won’t be disappointed. Right?
(SIDE NOTE: I made an exception for my 21st birthday which ended up in that boyfriend dumping me just minutes after I turned 21 and was waiting for him to show up so we could go to the bar for my first legal drink.)
So here I am almost twenty years later. I can say with some certainty that I was completely reasonable to expect my boyfriend to spend my birthday with me as he promised instead of cheating on me. But that realization doesn’t change the new traditions I have created around this day for me. Disappointment was the fuel to that fire; but denial and avoidance of disappointment has ensured that there are no birthday parties, no presents, no cards, no celebratory drinks or revelry of any kind. Avoid disappointment,? Check. Avoid any chance to feel special and included? Fail.
Expectations are a bitch, because it’s entirely out of your control whether people meet them. And people give you excuses that seem reasonable at the time. But instead of owning up to the fact that I feel hurt or let down, I swallow it down where I plot my next attempt to circumvent any future disappointment
So how to fix it? Here are a few suggestions:
- Admit to yourself that the icky mix of anger and sadness you feel is disappointment. Write it down and burn it if you’re afraid of letting anyone know you feel this. But say or write the words at least.
- Practice telling the other person when you feel disappointed for small things. Like when they text to tell you that they won’t be able to make it to dinner tonight because they’re sick, text back “aww…I’m disappointed I won’t see you tonight. Take good care of yourself”
- Recognize and relate to their own humanity. Trust me, as a human being you’ve done something, big or small, to disappoint another human being. Remember what caused that person’s disappointment and apply it to your own now. Was it a miscommunication? An assumption? A crooked sense of priorities? Stress? Excuses or not, these play into all of our interactions.
- Express your disappointment. It doesn’t have to be a drag out fight. But instead find an opportunity soon after the event in question to tell the person you were disappointed by something they did or didn’t do and how things can be better in the future. Make it an honest exchange of information. Yes, you will hear excuses or rationale, some of which are totally understandable, but just as importantly they will hear it from you directly how you feel and what you’d like them to do differently in the future.
- Check but don’t eliminate all of your own expectations. There are times that our expectations can be pretty unweildy and can set everyone on edge (think Miranda Priestly from the Devil Wears Prada). If you’re noticing an increase in agitation or stress with the people you rely on, you may want to double check that you’re not asking the impossible and scale it back just a little bit.
- Arrange regular time to check in about promises, rules, expectations in a relationship. Having a regular check-in with a partner, loved one or even co-worker about what expectations are on the table, what’s working and what’s not can be enormously helpful. Don’t wait until there is a history of consistent fuck-ups, instead check in early and often (like every 2-3 months) to make sure each party knows what is expected of them.
- Trust again. Maybe not the same people as before, but trust that your needs and desires are worthy. It is amazing how less disappointment haunts me and hurts me now that I’ve started trusting that the world isn’t out to get me. .
And the biggest show of that trust in my life? After twenty years of solitary suffering, I am actually going to celebrate my birthday! Bring it on!
So, it is says anything about the gravity of this topic, this subject line has been sitting here since October of 2011.
Hello. My name is Bella. I’m polyamorous and I’m afraid to date.
Is there a support group for people like me? I have been polyamorous for almost 9 years now and for the past 4 years I have been afraid to date. I have been avoiding discussing why for a very long time, but like most things if I don’t just delve in and say it publicly, it will never get parsed out and thus never truly change.
I believe in honesty. I believe in truth. When I have been on the receiving end of deception it hurts.
I know that there are plenty of reasons why people lie and hide the truth, particularly from themselves. Almost all of those reasons stem from some form of fear. Not malice really, but fear. And that fear appears as manipulation to most, but it is less of a deliberate, cunning ploy and more like the actions of a scared 6 year old who believes that the truth will get them into trouble.
Conversely, I have known plenty of people who relish in giving others “THE TRUTH” as more of a hammer of justice. They think they are doing a public good and in that respect, I can understand where they are coming from. But the arrogance of thinking that your version of “the truth” matches the receiver’s experience of it is often what adds insult to the injury of having to be lectured to by a grown-up. More often than not the receiver already knows of the issue that this person is hammering them for. Maybe they’re not facing up to it. Maybe they do need to see it from a different perspective, but awareness is rarely the problem. And shoving “THE TRUTH” in their face isn’t always going to garner the best response.
Both of these are defense mechanisms but in very different ways and yet they both stem from a place of fear. One is passive and the other aggressive. Both are fueled by this similar sense of loss. In the first one, if the actor doesn’t tell his beloved the truth or lies to cover it up, he is doing it to avoid the consequences for the truth coming out. In the second instance, it’s preventative. Instead of facing their own harsh realities, often the actor is projecting their issues onto someone else. The more disparate the observation, the more projection that is being imposed. Both are from a place of fear. And both work to avoid resolving conflicts with one’s inner truth.
Truth resides in every human heart, and one has to search for it there, and to be guided by truth as one sees it. But no one has a right to coerce others to act according to his own view of the truth. – Mahatma Gandhi
I started writing this post just after the beginning of September. My life was in chaos at that point. Not only had I quit my job, but I was actively trying to re-engage with my ex and trying to figure out the best place to be in his life. And here I am three months later and still contemplating this issue of honesty and how to best integrate it within the chaos that still surrounds me.
Honesty and truth had a lot to do with the fall of many of my relationships. It wasn’t always about deception, but deception was usually revealed. It wasn’t always about not being receptive to the truth, but often the truth was used as a hammer of justice by both me and my loved one to injure and disable within arguments. It’s not something I’m proud of, in fact, I often look on it with worry and guilt.
But I think that is more of the point about “the truth”. I can admit that I was a dick back then…and still can be when it comes to the truth. I can say that I do my best not to hide things from the people I love. I don’t always succeed. However, one of the first things I ask for is a similar amount of transparency as I show to others. When I don’t get that, I freak out. And that is my truth too.
In the past I’ve required such a massive amount of transparency that I then start panicking when I feel something is being kept from me. Maybe this stems from some of my earliest romantic relationships: a boyfriend who was hiding that he was gay, a boyfriend who was hiding that he was cheating on me everyday with a co-worker for 4 months, a boyfriend who was hiding his drug use from me. Because I had been so gullible and naive I had to fine tune my sense of truth. I wanted to avoid being taken advantage of and being humilitated by the people I love. I am at a point now where I can not only smell out a lie (little inconsistencies here and there adding up to a bigger cover-up) but also sense when someone is bullshitting themselves.
Of course, this results in some false alarms. Sometimes the little details that just don’t add up are because the person was drunk and honestly can’t remember and is trying to fill in those details as well. Maybe they are bullshitting themselves about their own life because they have been taking steps to create something new after being in the dumps for the past 4 years and are trying to be more positive and self-assured. In either case, my accusations of dishonesty don’t help matters. I often forget that people don’t have the same inner trust for honesty and integrity that I do. Some of them still need these coping mechanisms and are possibly fighting a hard battle to confront them. Most simply feel that my honesty requirements are pushy and intrusive.
It doesn’t mean that I have to accept shabby or inconsistent treatment from the people I want to be intimate with. In fact, if honesty is what I need for intimacy, then, by all means, I deserve to receive it. And I certainly don’t need to surround myself with people who will be careless about that need.
But I also need to recognize and remember that I am not perfect and can’t expect perfection from others. I flub up. I act impulsively. I make up stories to explain my emotions so I don’t have to tell someone they are disappointing me or hurting me. I also impose my own truth on people as well. And I should apply that same lesson to those that have employed the hiding and projecting and recognize what is truly driving those actions. The same fear of embarrassment, shame, and loss as what has driven my own actions. And the more I judge dishonesty and brutal “truth” the less I create a structure with which people can feel safe in sharing their full truth with me…which in the end takes me further away from what I truly want to create for my closest friends.
And much like Mahatma Gandhi mentions above…truth is truly within and individual to the person viewing it. In order to act with my highest truth, I need to allow people the space to act with theirs; stop coercing them into adopting or conforming to my view of things, especially intimacy.
Let me confess right now that I am not a celebrity watcher. Sure I keep up with the basics of the gossip, but i don’t let the temperamental and tumultuous relationships of celebrities define anything for the reality of my life. Personally I believe any marriage exposed to such a magnifying glass is already starting out with more pressure than it can withstand. But when I read that some gossipers are blaming an open relationship for the failure of Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher, I think people are too quick to assign blame to the “new” concept of an open marriage instead of looking at the qualities and characteristics of the people involved. And let’s be clear…none of us know Demi and none of us know Ashton. So unless you are in the relationship itself, can you really assign blame to an open marriage or any other signular scapegoat?
In this article on HuffPo “Open Marriage: A Celebrity Solution or a Contradiction in Terms?” people continue to speculate on the disadvantages of an open relationship. What bothers me about the article is that it pretends to have an equal point of view where it intends to treat open marriages as an option, except it doesn’t really delve into the good realities of an open marriage. It treats open marriage as if it is biohazard material which can only be observed at a distance or with heavy protection against its dangers.
Open marriage may seem sane to some as it allows for forgiveness on both sides if and when both partners give into the inevitable temptations and stray. The thinking is, “If we’re going to cheat, let’s at least be honest about it.” But it is not a real solution. I don’t have the statistics to prove it, and with today’s divorce rate, traditional marriages aren’t exactly stellar in the numbers department, but from a purely practical perspective, we can’t have it both ways.
I don’t think my marriage could stand up to this kind of pressure and I’m not sure that any healthy marriage could. I believe it prudent to intentionally keep things that are potentially damaging to your marriage away from your marriage whenever and wherever possible.
First, let’s agree that there are a few problematic terms here such as “stray”, “cheat”, “not a real solution” and “potentially damaging”. The article is already stacking the deck against us. Open marriages for the most part don’t view outside influences or people as dangers that should be guarded against. And frankly if someone decides to open their marriage with this perspective in mind, they might not have the right mindset to even start an open marriage much less sustain one.
Most open marriage start with the premise the honesty is mandatory. No subject is off the table, no encounter is not worth sharing. So, if cheating, straying or stepping out becomes an issue, it’s usually because a partner has a compulsion to deceive in a relationship, which I view as far more damaging in an open relationship because the fear of being honest, confessing an attraction to another person or god forbid flirting with another person has been managed and ideally eliminated. Generally speaking, if someone cheats in an open relationship, they are a special kind of douchebag, often blaming the other partner for their lack of integrity and honesty instead of owning up to their compulsions and impulse control issues. But in a traditional marriage, this might not come to light and would be blamed instead on that partner’s inability to be monogamous.
But to say that it is prudent to keep “potentially damaging” influences, people and situations away from your marriage is problematic. If that were the case, let’s make sure we don’t open up marriages to children. After all, the birth of a child could be potentially damaging to your union, causing among other things financial instability, mental break-down and a lack of sex drive. Let’s also make sure no married couple takes on a risky business venture or has to travel for work. Include too potentially erratic and damaging in-laws or friends. Pets. Home remodeling. Disability. Death of a family member. Or anything that might cause stress. And most definitely let’s eliminate any threat of mental illness or chronic disease.
Do you see how utterly stupid that is?
Instead, why don’t we teach our married brothers and sisters how to deal effectively with a partner when facing these “threats” to their united bliss? How do we deal with conflict? How do we deal with disappointment and deception? How are we playing out the tired and unsuccessful patterns of relating that we’ve learned from society and family in our married lives today?
But comparing an obsession with work and material success to the enrichment and fulfillment available when connecting with more than one human being is insulting. That’s not to say that I haven’t seen marriages torn apart by the distractedness and self-centeredness of one of the partners. For example, I knew of a couple that broke up because the wife spent most of her time scrapbooking or playing games online than watching her kids, leaving the husband to work 60+ hour weeks, risking his and the kids’ health. But whenever the focus of a partner is rooted in the outside world, connection starts to wither away. Focusing on bringing home the joys and rewards of those outside influences and allowing it to help replenish the couple so it becomes something they can share in together, equally and reinforce the connection. But it’s easier when you’re bringing home the joy and bliss of a new connection. Seeing your partner light up with pride and love at a fulfilling evening and having them share that positive energy with you is not at all the same as waiting up all night for your partner to come home from a long business trip only to have them barely kiss you or share the details of their trip with you.
Open marriages are just an invitation for sexy, exciting, thrilling and potentially lethal distractions. It’s inviting disaster, just like working crazy hours at the expense of yourself or your loved ones; playing golf more than you know you should to get away from your family; hanging out with friends more than hanging in, or out, with your spouse; and the list goes on.
Lethal distractions? Really? Only if someone can’t control their jealousy. But then again, I’ve seen people murdered for less. And I would absolutely LOVE to divorce someone for playing golf (because I find golf to be an insipid, tedious and needlessly elitist “sport”—that is pretty much a deal-breaker to me). My husband’s distraction is video games. The benefit he gains from it helps me too. He is more relaxed, more able to talk about his day, more focused on my needs instead of just his. And I have my distractions too. I love kink. I talk about it, write about it and even study it in my spare time. (and belly dancing is a close 2nd) It has benefits for my husband in much the same ways his distractions benefit me. So, I wouldn’t say that distractions are per se bad, but that it breaks down to the cost-benefit analysis of it all. Does the benefit to the marriage outweigh the cost to it?
Additionally, is someone is seeking distraction to avoid the real dysfunction of the relationship or is it something that is enriching to their character and growth? It’s only at the end of the article that the author even suggests that there might be reasons why someone is seeking distraction in their marriage. And frankly, I don’t know a couple that doesn’t seek it to some extent. So the question is why? And frankly, we tend to knee-jerk quite a bit about this subject. Could it be that this “distraction” is contributing positively to someone’s growth and journey? If so, I’m all for it.
So until you know these couples and what their individual and joint journeys are…it’s probably a better idea to look at yourself and ask what is so delicate about your marriage that you must avoid “danger” at all costs instead of allowing it to test your mettle and commitment, allowing it to alter your perspective and perhaps even enhance your life. Through good times and in bad, right?
“Love is the ability and willingness to allow those you care for to be what they choose for themselves, without any insistence that they satisfy you.”
– Dr. Wayne Dyer
“If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man’s life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility”
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
More to follow.
So when I posted this, I got a question on twitter from someone who snarkily wanted to know what this had to do with sex. Frankly, it has everything to do with relationships and therefore in my mind has more than plenty to do with sex. This is about simple relating. Replace the word “enemies” with “neighbors” or “lovers” or an form of human relationship and it still fits.
I’ve been somewhat preachy lately in my personal and professional life about the needless competitions we get into, usually around “my pain is worse than your pain” sorts of scenarios. You know the ones. You’re pouring your heart out about the latest drama or dilemma you have encountered in your life. Your friend seems like they are paying attention until suddenly they say, “Oh that’s nothing. Listen to what happened to me the other day”. Your heart is still bleeding and you’re still looking for some amount of comfort for the ass-hattery that has hit your life while your friend drones on and on about their latest problem. It hurts and it sucks.
I’ve done it. I completely admit it. I’ve even interrupted people while they were crying to do this. I’ve upped the ante on the emotional pain on the table so much that by the time we’re done, we both feel like the biggest losers in the world and are even worse off than before. No one was heard, no one has been comforted and we both feel resentful to our “narcissistic” friend who stole our pitiful squeak of thunder. I have been this shitty friend, been called self-absorbed, self-centered, narcissistic and desperate before and it really sucks. (and for the record, I believe “narcissistic” is tossed around a little too liberally, usually by the very people are exhibiting the exact same behavior and whining about others’ narcissism for not paying attention to their pain and suffering).
But you’ve done it too. It’s okay to admit it. It’s okay to say that you’ve been a giant ass about someone else’s pain and played the “no, look at how much more my life sucks” game. I could go into the psychological reasons why we do this to each other, but that would miss the point of what I’m aiming for here.
Being a good lover depends quite a bit on emotional intelligence. And a cornerstone of emotional intelligence is empathy. Empathy is described as “the capacity to recognize and, to some extent, share feelings (such as sadness or happiness) that are being experienced by another sapient or semi-sapient being.”. But in order to do that we have to know a bit about that person’s story. We have to understand a bit more about their journey…and we have to be interested enough to care to listen to it. And most of the time, I think we are. I think we do care. But in an effort and perhaps even an impatience to connect with that person, we interrupt or supersede with our own story and our own journey. We want acknowledgment too. We want recognition for our pain and suffering too.
The fact is, we’ve all suffered. We’ve all experienced pain. I may not have lost a sibling or parent, but I’ve been hurt. I know what those experiences did to me and how i am different because of them. And with a partner or a lover, my pain, particularly those I’ve experienced with former partners and lover (particularly D/s relationships) is kind of relevant. Knowing where I’ve come from is an important part of understanding me. It influences how I connect with others physically, emotionally, sexually and what of myself I choose to reveal to them as time progresses. It is a major reason why I don’t really consider NSA (no-strings attached) sex to be truly without connection, feeling or bonds. But that is another topic for another day.
Sharing ourselves with our partners is essential I believe, at least if you don’t want to surprise them with landmines and booby traps. It creates empathy and awareness for our personal journey. It also allows them to see more of us and therefore create a better bond that can shine all the brighter. It helps to melt away some of our own insecurities and overcome minor resentments before they become giant issues.
The problem is when we allow these personal narratives of our past to overtake and drown out the present. The person we are sharing with typically is not the person that caused us this harm and/or trauma in our lives. We’re sharing it as a warning sometimes. Other times are simply trying to get the acknowledgment and yes, sometimes pity that we didn’t originally get.
And that’s not to discourage that sharing at all, just be aware that in giving that story that we are not shifting the burden of our care and healing onto them. It still our story. That person didn’t create that trauma and no matter what level of their sympathy and empathy, they cannot fix it for us. We are still responsible for our own selves and our own lives and ultimately our own healing. My hope is that in sharing your story with others that the burden becomes easier and we open ourselves up the therapeutic magic that is possible and therfore we bring about our own healing by letting go of the pain and allowing ourselves to see a better life. And if everything goes well, we do the same for others. We listen, we empathize, we allow them the safety to share of themselves fully…
and sharing is quite sexy.
NYT: No Surprise for Bisexual Men: http://mobile.nytimes.com/2011/08/23/health/23bisexual.xml
My poly husband is Bi. I think I’ve called him “Warrior” here before. Warrior = bi? You bet. I didn’t need a Northwestern study to validate this for me…but I think this information will prove useful when discussing sexual orientation with others.
He faced a lot of opposition from the gay community in his last state when he and wife got together. Fortunately here he hasn’t seen quite as many problems, but I get these questions now and then that seem to be rather ill-informed attempts to suggest he reads “more gay than straight”.
Actually that one came from one of his lovers. I don’t think of him that way. I don’t like thinking that somehow his wife and I are the exceptions to the rule and if he would just accept his true nature then he’d be fucking every man in town. I see that statement as wishful thinking on behalf of a gay community that would like a shot at him. But for these pesky rules and expectations and marriages that these women impose he could be fair game. Deny the fact he loves women and suddenly he seems more accessible.
Except that is not the case. He experiences his sexuality like he does most things in his life…in a rather focused, clear and direct way. He knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it. He isn’t afraid to look for it and frankly it takes him only moments to find it since people throw themselves at him on a daily basis (a subject for a post–doing poly with a sex object). For him it is not about some wishy-washy confusion over whether he is actually straight or gay. It’s not confusion at all. He likes women. He likes men. He likes to have both kinds of sex in his life. Period.
For the most part I don’t see him face much opposition here with me. And if he has, he hasn’t mentioned it. If someone can’t accept him as bi, then he simply won’t be visiting their bed. And when he hears about these snarky comments, he quietly jumps back with a consistent and thorough answer.
Fact is as we grow towards acceptance of gay relationships, we need to keep in mind that there is not a binary of orientation. You are not either gay or straight. It’s not an on or off switch, but as my other husband describes it, we are on a dimmer switch where both ends are just a different brilliance of light. None better or worse than the other. Some have it turned up to high and some prefer it a little lower. And once it is turned high or low there is no law stating that’s where it should stay forever and ever, amen. It’s going to shift, sometimes because variety is super awesome. And sometimes because needs change and evolve day to day or over longer periods of time.
And maybe I say that because I believe in sexual fluidity. Maybe I say that because a number of gay men, including strangers, have asked quietly to have alone, naked time with me. Some of them to heal from past experieces…others to fulfill nagging fantasies. None of this makes them less into cock than they were before. Their preference is still turned up to high, but stepping away from that for a few minutes can give them better perspective and information useful for their growth. It isn’t self-loathing as some might suggest, but exploring curiosities and ideas that might be harder to do with anyone less than me.
Sorry, my original point is that we shouldn’t need a study to tell us bisexuality is real, particularly for men. Bisexuals represent a unifying of the orientation duality that frankly makes those who consider themselves 100% gay or 100% straight nervous. There is no less than when our sexual realities are equal to each other.
I made a vow when I started this blog that I wouldn’t discuss my personal life here very often. Or at least if I did, it wouldn’t be in grand amounts of detail. I’ve been outed before. It’s not fun. And some of the people I’m involved with would also consider it, not quite so fun to be outed.
But one thing this past weekend is honestly too big to hold back on. Here I am three years after the fact, facing a return to my spiritual husband. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. We broke up two years ago…but in my mind it was really three. It was three years ago our relationship started to seriously deteriorate. As that was happening, I was adding two new relationships to my life: one had been in the wings for quite some time and the other was accelerated on a timeline I couldn’t foresee. And my spiritual husband and I both were caught up in the waves of the latter. Crashing, crushing waves that I had not encountered with anyone other than this spiritual husband. Initially he was supportive of all those relationships, but then the relationships (both local) were quickly overshadowing what he and I held together. There were a lot of other factors at play, not the least of which was our own pride and resentment brewing under the surface. But the events of July 2008 forever changed the rules of the game and set us on a path that only served to push us away from each other.
And the wedge of resentment was so very strong. Walls went up quicker than either of us had the power to eliminate (and we are both quite skilled at it). For the first time in a long time, when we talked we didn’t listen because we both insisted that the other wasn’t hearing us. So we just talked louder. And more forcefully. And louder still.
Until we could hear nothing but the hollow echo of our own emptiness.
I may never fully comprehend what happened back then. I know that I went through a massive emotional and spiritual reboot. And I know that I couldn’t have done that if he and I had still been together. Even as things shifted and changed, we were holding true to these perverse assumptions we had about each other. You know the ones, the ones where the “other” is actually the villain. This is not what we believed in. And yet it happened.
It happened because it needed to happen. I’m a big believer in “everything has a purpose” and this was no different. Both of us have changed significantly over the years, without much involvement from the other party at least. So when he announced he and his kids and girlfriend would be coming to town, I had to rely pretty extensively on what I’ve developed in myself over the past three years. I was nervous and terrified and radically honest with myself about what I could handle and what I couldn’t.
…you know how people tell you emphatically to never, ever get back together with your ex?
Yeah, I ignored that advice and I’m glad I did.
Because the part where we got to talk without kids, without responsibilities weighing us down was amazing. It was honest and sincere. We were both holding a little back, but we recognized it for what it was and moved onward with an initial amount of trust.
And when we kissed, the cosmic forces seem to shine their approval. Was it really a break-up if we both still loved each other that immensely? Was it really a break if we both had hurt each other that much? All I know is in those magic hours under moonlight and stars, we remembered who we really are together. All the immense pleasures and joys we bring to each other’s lives and how deeply and immediately we feel that connection.
I don’t have words for what we are and I’m reluctant to name any, particularly at this stage. All I know is that I felt like a part of my soul snapped back into place and I feel inspired and alive again. We will have to create new images, new ideas to truly describe where we are now and who we are to each other.
… but Love fits. Always has and no matter what we endure alone or apart it always will.
When a friend showed me this article today, it was creepy how similar it was to my own experience starting out in the BDSM community. I’ll excerpt a bit of it here for with my own commentary.
When I start to think of the number of times I have been cajoled, pressured, or forced into sex that I did not want when I came into “the BDSM community”, I can’t actually count them. And I never came out about it before, not publicly, for a variety of reasons- I blamed myself for not negotiating enough, or clearly, or for not sticking to my guns, or I didn’t want to be seen as being a drama queen or kicking up a fuss. Plus, the fact is, these things didn’t traumatize me, and I didn’t call it sexual assault or rape, because I felt ok afterwards. There was no trauma, no processing that I needed.
For the past few days I’ve been reading posts about polyamory. For full disclosure, I do describe myself as polyamorous (poly). And I suppose I identify sooo much that people have accused me of being a poly advocate. I would actually describe myself more as an advocate for healthy relationships. No matter what form they take. I don’t necessarily advocate poly for everyone, but instead I use it as an example of a relationship structure that not only works for me but works fucking well for me.
And here is a quick summary of my relationships: I am legally married to one man, let’s call him Husband and we have two marvelous children. I am spiritually married to another man for the past 3 years, let’s call him Warrior, who is legally married to another woman (and she has another partner as well). I date both women and men and those that identify in between. So does Warrior. Husband is only now starting to consider getting involved in other relationships. Husband and I have been poly for 7 years this July, which is more years we’ve been poly than not (we’ve been together for 12 years). So, yeah, poly is working quite well for me.
Over the past few weeks, I found myself getting hyper defensive of what I’ve been hearing about poly lately. Maybe this is how the rest of the world feels when their relationship dynamic is under attack. Except, you know…they’re the majority and still have power, control, rights and shit. Most of the people making complaints about poly have been either those who are new to it or had a terrible experience with it. Anyway, I thought this might be a good place to start a blog about relationships, sexuality, culture and where they all intersect in my life.
This is by no means a coherent or even competent defense of poly. It’s just a reaction. A knee-jerk reaction that wasn’t at all appropriate for the person who originally inspired this…but was something I needed to say after redefining over the past year the way in which I practice poly. Again, I don’t advocate poly for everyone…but I do advocate conscious relationship building. Read the rest of this entry