kitty’s journey: part one

where the kitty begins…

I stumbled into my romantic journey when I entered college.  I had sorta managed some semblance of dating prior to that, but nothing worth mentioning.  Oh, I did once find out this guy I kissed had a fiancee back home, from a letter he wrote to my dad (my dad didn’t know that we’d kissed).  That was fun.  This guy in my Spanish class gave me pretty stones in a wooden cigar box when we graduated.  Should’ve taken that as a hint he had a crush, but of course I didn’t.

I entered college dating via the commuter room where I flirted with a guy who said I looked like Catherine Zeta Jones.  I swooned, of course.  We dated for three weeks, during which neither of us did anything more than kiss (we did kiss, right?).  But, hey, I had my first boyfriend.  Achievement unlocked.

the kitty’s adventures continue…

My first intimate experience consisted of me, my best friend in the first semester of college, and her kind of boyfriend.  I didn’t even know enough to know that first times were generally with only two people.  I figured I didn’t know what to do, so it would be better if I watched first.  Join in when I felt comfortable.  It wasn’t great, and it wasn’t terrible.

I dated a Night Elf Hunter from World of Warcraft for a summer in between semesters.  He had two young daughters.  I met them once.

I traveled a lot in my twenties.  You don’t need a lot of money to travel, and I didn’t.  I ate cheaply and couch surfed.  I only traveled when I could find work that took me to that place.  If you don’t have too many ties, i.e. a child at home, there are ways that let you earn a living (such as teaching English abroad, seek out countries that pay a livable wage).  It does mean compromising, even when I got to exotic locations, I spent most of my time at a desk.  Jobs offered incredibly limited vacation days.  But I still got out a little.  

I hooked up on occasion and even managed to find a few sweet guys.  The landlord at our hostel found me dangling my legs over the table as I made chicken soup (I had a cold).  He told me I was beautiful.

I met a lot of people from various cultures.  I saw everyone seeking the same things, happiness, security, love.  Went about it slightly different ways, especially as a culture.  Each culture valued certain ways of pursing one’s happiness and fulfillment, though fundamentally had the same desires.  I checked off my “Have sex in public” box.  I scratched up my knee on the rock and I have no idea what his name was.  Not great.  I dated a guy for almost two years while living abroad.  I snuggled with a friend that wanted more, but didn’t ask.

Just before turning twenty-five, I popped off to Burning Man with my friends and watched this one couple’s relationship implode around me.  Burning Man bestowed many lifetime memories upon me.

the kitty levels up…

After that I moved back to the city where I’d gone to college. I kept on getting back together with my one college boyfriend. We couldn’t be platonic and in the same room, as it turned out.  But he helped me move into the city he lived nearby and I am grateful for this.  Plus, we had fun and enjoyed each other’s intellectual and physical company.

But nothing serious.  I told myself, “Kitty, you aren’t good at commitment.”  Not quite true.  I’m not good at commitment for the sake of being committed.  When it feels right, however…

I met this girl who was dating a vampire.  She and I had a few rather intense months together.  Too much for me, long term.

I met the first of many people who would help me realize my actual self.  There’s no shame in being single, of course, as most will tell you in the kink world.  I learned I can get by fine on my own and enjoy my independence and freedom.  I am fine to leave the apartment, alone, and go out to eat a nice meal.  Or walk around an outdoor festival.  Someone would always say, “You’re out…by yourself?” I’d respond, “Well, how else am I going to meet people?”  I always would, too.  

It’s true that most people who come into your life, end up passing through it.  Isn’t it still worth the time you spent with them?

All in all, though, I liked the stability of having a romantic partner in crime.

this is the story of how I became polyamorous

Or rather, discovered my poly self.  It wasn’t easy.  Everyone seems to want or think that a poly life should be glided into, smoothly, honesty, clear expectations.

I certainly do it that way now.

It’s not always like that in the beginning.  When you don’t know what is good or bad or usual or anything.  You’re writing your own story and there’s no real blueprint to follow anymore.

It started off as a messy open relationship to which I was invited.  It fell apart when the wife left to be with her boyfriend…and I had the choice of staying with my partner or moving on.  I stayed.

I think the trick to happiness is to be open to the opportunity, if and when it falls in your lap.  I almost rejected him, I was so used to not having someone.  I almost ran away— but I didn’t want to run away.  I wanted to feel the way he made me feel.  Loved, supported.  He didn’t give me much, at first, and I didn’t blame him.  I will say that the little he gave me was sincere and quality.

And really it was quite a lot.  Just much less than he gives me now. 

At the time, I felt sad and pathetic for needing that feeling.  But it’s human nature to crave company.  Being with him made every day a bit shinier– because I’d never had that before.  A bit easier.  A bit more pleasant. 

Everyone had told me relationships are hard, but somehow, he wasn’t hard at all.  I mean, sure I had to put actual effort in getting to know a human being!  But I was used to that, having met new people all the time that I invested into, and who ended up leaving me after a month or two anyway.  I put effort into this one— and he stayed!  Mind—partially— blown.  And I felt at ease with him.  Our schedules sort of naturally aligned, partially luck and partially we both allowed for the flexibility to make it work.  Couldn’t see me in the morning?  I’d move a few items around and see him late evening.  Couldn’t get to me in time for dinner?  I’d arrange to see a friend for dinner, and him for, well, dessert.  

Perhaps it helped that he didn’t take away any of my independence.  At first, no expectations, no demands.  While, eventually, he would assume a dominant role over me and care for many of my basic needs and wants— and more—he never told me I couldn’t do something.   We had many conversations.  I did not want to give up my freedoms.  I did not want him to sacrifice for me, or give anything up.  I knew he loved another, at the time, and I let him know that didn’t bother me.  

I think all of that helped.  We weren’t romantic, at least not at first.  We were platonically there for each other, supporting each other in however the other person needed it.  It was nice, it was nearly effortless.  Why walk from something like that?  With his help, and with others, I learned to love in my own way.  I discovered a lot about myself, about human nature, about other people.  What made me tick, what made them tick.  

So now I am here. 

I am me, whatever that means.  I am a queen in search of her queendom, so my friend tells me.  I feel oh so close, but I am not quite there.  

I’m a bit better off than I used to be.  I’ve admittedly learned to make sacrifices, the same sacrifices my twenty something self determined to never give up!  Never surrender!— and, okay.  Not so bad, after all.

I’ve given up some freedoms, in exchange for love and security.  In exchange for being a family.  But I never loved those freedoms, to be honest.  Sure, I could travel around the world, no commitments, no obligations.  But I was so stressed at not having purpose, or even the money to properly enjoy myself, that I didn’t take advantage of those freedoms, anyway.  So why bother clinging to something that no longer had value to me.  I have enough freedoms to keep me happy, and more than most are lucky to possess.  It would be insensitive to complain about the little freedoms I don’t have, rather than feel blessed to have the ones I do.  

And the whole time I kept dating others and enjoying all sorts of various relationships.

the kitty assesses herself and makes new friends..

I met my first long term girlfriend about six years after meeting my first partner.  She continues to be a rock of support for me, as I try to be for her.  Plus, an array of random adventures!

I met my wonderful, but still as yet undefined, friend with whom I shared lovely sexytimes as well as simply hanging out together.

I am free to  learn, wholly and absolutely, who I am and what I want.  How incredible is that!

I’m looking forward to meeting so many wonderful, future friends and lovers!

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top