July 27th, 2012
I dislike the feeling of stringing someone along. I dislike even more, uncertainty. But I’m a stubborn one. Especially when it comes to changing a decision I had already made with finality. When I decide, this is what I’m doing for the rest of my life, and then something comes along and disrupts that, I dig in my heels and fight. I get upset, I get angry, I get sad. I do whatever I can think of to not have to change. But sometimes, change happens. Choices, even long term choices, don’t always last, don’t always survive the passage of time. Look at the divorce rate.
I posted a month ago, about taking care of the now, of change and of the whirlwind of life. Most of those things are in the process of being sorted out now. The immediate needs were taken care of and the rest are processing at their own speed. I posted about not having expectations, and letting things fall as they would.
One of those things has fallen in a very decisive manner, changing my poly landscape. Hubby and I have made the decision to remove romantic and sexual expectations from our marriage. I have been stepping back from these things most of this year. I have been stubbornly suggesting they are the goal of our counseling sessions. That we will eventually get back to a “normal marriage” which would include those feelings and interactions again. But, as we worked on that, I found myself uninterested in those things from him, uninterested in returning to those things with him. But that’s what we’re supposed to do, right? That’s gotta be the goal, cuz that’s “normal,” right?
Hubby kindly pointed out that if I don’t want those things, there’s no use forcing them. It will only make us both miserable. He also pointed out, that doesn’t mean we have to divorce, we’re poly after all, we make our own relationship rules. We don’t have to conform to the “norm.” So, we are still married, still planning our lives together, still loving and supporting each other. Romance and sex are simply not a part of the relationship anymore. Some say this is where all marriages end up, eventually, we just hadn’t planned on it being this soon. But as I said a month ago, nothing ever goes as planned.
August 26th, 2011
Hubby and I are celebrating our 7th Anniversary this weekend. Married for seven years as of yesterday. Our reception was at the Renaissance Festival, on our third anniversary he got me my dragon collar there, and tomorrow we’re planning on going back again. There hasn’t been a week gone by since he bought me that dragon that I haven’t gotten a compliment on it. Makes me beam every time, and smirk a little bit because they don’t know what it really symbolizes.
Seven years together, and many more to come. It has been quite the adventure. From moving cross-country twice, to meeting swingers and then the leather and lifestyle communities. From temp jobs to high paying globe-trotting jobs, to retail and help desk. Through four apartments and sharing a house. Through five cars and eight computers. With trips to Seattle, Boston, Maine, California, Chicago, Michigan and back home to Idaho; some together and some separately. And definitely through sickness and health, richer and poorer.
We started this journey back in 1999, when my best friend told me there was this guy in our online game who needed a stable girl in his life. I was a college sophomore, and far from stable, but it turns out, one of the more stable female influences in his life from that moment forward. He was poly when this journey started, and I was kinky. Over the years, we have brought each other into our worlds, and found our places in both. It hasn’t always been a comfortable fit, and we are always learning and growing, but we are happy with what we have discovered, both with each other and within ourselves.
Our paths have diverged occasionally. Learning different things from different people. Spending time with our other partners. But we’ve always had each other to come home to. We have our home together, where we can collapse into each other’s arms when we need to. We take care of each other, support each other, and protect each other, and love each other as best we can.
These days we are looking to strengthen our path together. Finding new ways and old, to reconnect, to share with each other, and to grow together. Using all the things we have learned to make our next seven together even better than the first seven. It has been quite the wild ride, and we have no intention of stopping.
August 26th, 2010
I celebrated my anniversary yesterday. Married six years to my wonderful Hubby. We celebrated with sex, food and Hollywood violence. We first met in person ten years ago, to the month, but not the day. We had started talking the November before that. I have known him for over a third of my life. When we were younger and more romantic, we used to call each other soulmates. We went through so much in those early years, but we always came back to each other, always found each other again. So, we decided to stay together, six years now and many more to go.
Is it odd that marriage started a new trend for me? Previous to getting married, and with Hubby being the only exception, the longest relationship I ever had was four months in Ireland. Now, I have one boyfriend of over six months, another coming up on two years (exact dates are a bit fuzzy) and my husband of six years, who I was dating for a year and a half prior to our wedding. Relationships are not easy, and I am so lucky to have found these three men who work hard with me to keep things together. Even more lucky because my two boyfriends each have primary(and sometimes other secondary) relationships that require their time and attention as well. Not to mention how grateful I am to those other partners for sharing them with me.
I commented the other day that I’d never paid much mind to anniversaries before, other than my wedding anniversary, because I’d never had a relationship last that long before him. It is incredible to me that I now have three with the potential to mark not just months, but years. Poly is hard for some people to understand, but to have this much love in my life, is such a wonderful thing. I am forever grateful to my Hubby for being patient with me while I came to terms with both his and my own polyamorous nature. Our life together is that much richer for all the love that is in it.
June 24th, 2010
In college, there were times when I was in love with not-yet-Husband, and dating other men. He first proposed to me while engaged to someone else. I did not say no, not until I met her, anyway. When he proposed the second time, and I said yes, it was on the condition of monogamy. I accepted that he was flirtatious, and loving towards others, but we made an agreement that there would be no other relationships when we got married.
Two and a half years in, and we were both finding ourselves interested in other people on a level more than just flirtation. We talked about swinging, playing outside our marriage. I played with one friend, trying to keep emotions out of it, but when he decided he could not continue, I was hurt. Friends invited us to a swingers party where I was fairly wide-eyed and quiet the whole night. Then we moved.
We looked around online for potential play partners. We played with one couple, and we met another, but neither turned out well. Then we found the local kink community. I agreed that Husband could be true to his poly nature, and I would continue with the label of swinging. I was afraid of getting hurt again, swinging felt safer, it was not about love, or relationships. It was about experiences and having fun.
Then I met Lover, and Him. We started playing, in various forms, and it quickly became apparent that emotions would always be involved, that there was always risk, that the trust required for the way I wanted to play was not something to be given casually.
Husband has formed various relationships, girlfriends and play partners, looking for what he wants to add to his life. Together we explore our rules and agreements. We deal with jealousy and time management. We grow together and we follow our own paths. I love him, I am in love with him, I will love him forever and always.
I had a hard time with labels and defining relationships outside my marriage. Lover started as a play partner. Love grew between us, but in different ways. There are many kinds of love, and my love for him does not feel like the romantic, forever love of a Husband or a Boyfriend. It feels like the love of a cherished and trusted friend, a confidant. I chose the word Lover for him because I do love him, and we do play and make love, but it is a different kind of commitment that I feel for him.
Him, Rigger, Mentor, Dominant, Boyfriend. He and I have gone through many stages of our relationship. Growing closer over the last two years, taking things one step at a time. We began trying to define things around the turn of the year, or rather we tried to move forward without truly defining things, and found that it would not work anymore. After some stumbling, we defined what we had and what we wanted, and what boundaries that created for us, to keep us and our relationships safe. I love him, but more than that, I am In love with him. In the life-sharing, forever kind of way, and I am incredibly grateful that his wife is accepting of my love for him.
Compersion is an important concept in how I do poly. I love my Husband, my Lover and my Boyfriend, and because I love them, I want to see them happy. Their other partners bring love and happiness to their lives, so I am happy for them, and those relationships. I do not always want the details about how their other partners are making them happy, but sometimes it is fun to share the excitement and experiences, and it is definitely fun to share the energy created by those experiences. Jealousy still crops up, and relationships are not always happy, but over all, I know that love is not divided between us, it grows and expands to include everyone in our lives.
Polyamory has been a quite a journey, and I am still exploring the path.
December 2nd, 2009
Some months ago, I wanted to cry and I was ashamed of that desire. Not just cry, I wanted to be Made to cry. I wanted to be pushed so hard that tears came bursting forth in and uncontrollable fury. But I was afraid. I was afraid that this was a ridiculous desire. That it was childish to want to cry for no particular reason. That wanting the release and cleansing of flowing tears was simply weakness. I was afraid that it would change things, too, with whoever made me cry. I had never gone there before and it looked terribly dark. I did not want that unknowable change in my marriage, and that was a difficult decision and a difficult discussion. My lover, more experienced than either myself or my husband, became the giver of those tears. It was the release I needed at the time, and nothing was changed or broken in the giving.
Since then, my edges and the darkness have been moved and pushed and shoved. Tears are no longer shameful to me, but they still have a specific place in my play. There is still darkness when I think of bringing them into my home. The tenderness and love between my husband and myself seems incompatible to a tearful scene.
My lover, more often than not, gets the tears through fear these days. Threats of freshly remembered intense pain or of heightening the current level of pain can drive me over the edge. (Nipple clamps of various varieties are usually present in these threats.) Tearfully begging for mercy or for the pain to stop. Sometimes he grants it, and sometimes not, driving me further into tears or into complete surrender where the tears stop and soft stillness comes.
My other partner has only brought out tears twice. Both were corporal scenes, but they had a heavy mental elements that had more to do with the tearful response. In both situations, expectations were set, and tears came when I failed to meet those expectations. The pain levels were high, but it was the mental game that was more costly.
In the first, I was given a task, an object that was not to be dropped. It fell twice and tears fell swiftly behind it, but were gone again when he gave me another chance after a few choice strikes for the drop. It was an incredibly intense scene, the tears just one more spice in the delicious flavor.
The second, was a flogging scene set to music, and the final song came on, and he said he would flog the whole song at the same tempo and strength. I soon began to falter under the heavy strikes, and tears welled up as I thought I would not make the entire song. As I fell down and stood back up several times, his strikes never missed. Tears were flowing freely as I fell the final time, turning slightly towards him, but my back still raised to accept his strikes. He stopped then, accepting my surrender and my tears. His acceptance washed away my tearful disappointment in myself, and I smiled when he said I would do better next time.