See Original Post HERE from the lovely @Rainbow_Kitten7
Yes, at first I gained poly muscles…wayyyyy more than I ever thought I would. I can even flex them a little. Tiny baby poly biceps. It’s cute, really. Totes presh, just like our precious @Midgee.
And that was my main original goal. Let go of that closed fist and allow an open hand just as he has always done with me.
It was fucking hard. The hardest transition I’ve ever had to make in my entire life. It required me to give up control of the one thing in the world that I didn’t want to give up control of…
His heart.
What if..
…I lost him?
…There was another that was better than me?
…She could give him things I couldn’t?
…He wanted to spend even more time with her than he did already?
…About our time?
…He fell in love…like for real, deep desperate life changing in love, love kind of love?
You know what I found out?
She could give him things I couldn’t. A lot of things. And he did fall in love. He fell head over heels in love with her and I had to watch from the sidelines. It was excruciating to my heart. He did want to spend more time with her. And I had to learn how to share. Then he started writing about her. Ooofff. And all of fet fell in love with her and their story too.
I was really bad at it at first. Like terrible twos tantrum bad. I would promise to work on me, do real soul work. And I would….all the way till I melted down. On more than a few occasions. I cock blocked myself all the time, and instead said the wrong thing I didn’t mean to say that would end us in hours of conversation trying to climb back up to normal.
No, it definitely wasn’t easy. But I did it. And then I fell in love with her too. Or maybe I had already been in love with her. And now I am still heartbroken and still also desperately in love with her.
But breakups happen and life moves on. We found our tribe. He chose a masochist. My poly muscles remained strong.
And then…
The traveling masochists started showing up. I have no idea if part of that was the desperate need for connection after our twilight year of covid or if for the first time he was writing about sadism as more than philosophy. But girls were thirsty for him and what he had to offer.
It was cute at first. And then it rolled into a lot. A lot of moving parts. Conversations. Planning. A lot of rearranging my own life and the life of my kids to host.
I panicked for a minute.
Damn it. I thought I had this poly thing figured out. But I faltered. I second guessed myself. And I second guessed him. But during that time something happened. I grew in a poly way I never ever fucking thought I would get to in a million years.
I was not jealous OF a metamour, I was jealous FOR a metamour. And then jealous for a second metamour when a new girl came in. For the first time in my entire life I felt…
EMPATHY
I was floored.
I looked around me and realized I had a sisterhood. A real sisterhood. I cared about these women. Like truly cared.
No, I’m not poly. Not really. Not like he is. Polysexual sure. Maybe poly in the girl lane if the right girl comes along. But poly was his thing. He was falling in love and playing sadist. I was just over here slutting away. His dynamic was not my dynamic, right?
But here I am going to lunch with my sisters. Going shopping with them. Talking about him with them. Helping them through their own insecurities. For fuck sake, the four of us are in a group chat and I think I got nominated poly den mother. Lmao. Here’s the thing though….
I fucking love it!!! These are my girls.
These beautiful, incredibly special women are not just connected to him. They are connected to me in a way that I never anticipated being connected. It is kitchen table polyamoury in a way that I never thought I could be a part of. There is honesty, transparency, friendship, a lot of crazy, but mostly love in abundance.
I know that love is infinite. I get why poly people do it. The part that has always scared me was time. Time is finite and I was always worried that I wouldn’t get enough of MY time with him.
But this?
I NEVER ever expected this. MY love was multiplied. Not just his. These are MY girls. He has to share them with ME. I have women who I can laugh with, cry with, do life with. It has added to my life in a way that I never imagined it would.
But he knew. Oh, he very much knew.
Tricky fucking sadists.
This was enlightening when I read her post originally. It’s more meaningful to read it again after some time id introspection. This is exactly what Dan and Dawn Williams mean in their excellent book, The Polyamory Toolkit when the state that Poly is a matter of “and” not “or”
I’m so glad you said this! This is precisely why I chose to share it here. Many pieces have value to them, but some are the sort that age like fine wine. When I find them, I pounce!