I sort of always thought the game over was more of a “hey you win the game! you found your partner, congrats! Ride off into the sunset together?”
Like yeah I hate the “help me” painted on the bottom of shoes and the “ol’ ball and chain” shit like everyone else. But tbph, I thought the original was cute. But then again… sequels can be just as good as originals as long as you put the time and effort in to make them that way. Huh… might be some kinda metaphor there.
She tells me Rob is her play partner from back home. The one she hooks up with once a year when she and her husband go to a conference in Ohio. She’s mentioned Rob before but not by name. He’s the whole reason that she’s polyamorous.
“Oh,” I say. “What’s going on with him?”
“He and his wife Michelle have the hardest time finding partners. They have the worst luck. They really do.”
I nod, knowing that feeling. Until I lucked out and found Tina, I’d been striking out left and right myself. She and her husband Don were recent transplants to Maine, on OKCupid looking for people to play board games with.
But something about her profile had tipped me off. Flashing the secret poly bat signal in the sky.
And several weeks later, here we are. Chatting in her kitchen, the morning after yet another wonderful overnight date.
I listen carefully as she details Rob and Michelle’s dating hits and misses. And by the end of it, I feel bad for them, too.
“That’s too bad,” I say. “I hope they find someone soon.”
*
The next time I hear from Rob, it’s via my online dating profile:
Hey!
Heard you are friends with some other good friends of mine, Don and Tina!
Take care of them, now that they’re not in the Cleveland area I miss them terribly!
Also, yay for a 97% match! 😀
Wanting to make a good impression on my metamour, I write Rob back right away. We exchange a few messages back and forth, but I keep it strictly friendly, and our conversation dies off.
It isn’t until 3 weeks later that Rob even crosses my mind again when Don lets it drop that Rob had congratulated him and Tina on snagging me, adding that I was terribly cute in my profile pics.
On a lark, I reach out to Rob again, telling him that if he ever visits his friends in Maine that I’d be quite happy to meet him.
Rob asks me for my Skype info, and we start chatting on a regular basis.
He’s forward from the very beginning. He tells me during our very first conversation, after 4 hours of chatting, that it might sound crazy but that he already knows that he loves me. Because I’m someone who rejects the status quo. And that’s incredibly rare.
I’m a bit unsettled by this admission. It’s much too soon. But in other ways, it’s a welcome change. To be pursued. Prior to dating Don and Tina, I had pursued a series of basically monogamous people, with painful results.
Even with Don and Tina, I always feel like the clingy one, the initator. They set a lot of emotional limits on our relationships with one another. And identify polycurious.
I’ve grown sick of being a salesperson for polyamory.
But with Rob, I’m being wooed for the very first time since I opened up my own marriage.
Rather than running screaming in the other direction (as perhaps I should have done), I start to consider Rob a possibility.
This feeling only intensifies when he talks about how much he loves his wife Michelle. And tells me stories of their life together. They’ve been polyamorous for 8 years, together longer than that.
It hasn’t always been easy, but she’s incredibly important to him.
I find his love for her attractive. It’s good to know he values someone so much who is close to him.
When he talks about how positive polyamory has been as an experience for them, it doesn’t quite square with what Tina has told me. But I quiet my suspicion and continue to foster an interest in him.
*
Over time, Rob and I switch to the phone and start to call each other every day. I love his voice.
And as we continue to learn more about each other, we start having phone sex. Really good phone sex. It’s welcome, since my husband Seth always found the act goofy, and it’s been years since I had anybody to do it with.
One night, Rob calls me on the phone after Michelle leaves for the library. We’re just chitchatting. Not even having phone sex per se yet. Suddenly, he sounds stressed.
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you online,” Rob says.
He doesn’t even wait for me to respond. He just hangs up.
I hear nothing for 2 hours (and what a miserable wait), and then Rob pops online to tell me that Michelle had come home early from the library to find him with his pants undone while talking to someone on the phone.
“I offered to delete your contact info and block you,” he tells me. “But luckily, she said that wouldn’t be necessary.”
I sit there staring at the computer screen, gutted.
Stunned by how casually he is willing to cast me out of his life at the slightest resistance from his wife.
And unimpressed by how badly they seem to handle basic poly issues for a couple that’s been at this for 8 years.
My own marriage has only been open a year, and I can’t imagine my husband Seth and I handling things this way.
*
It always felt like an affair.
And in hindsight, that should have told me something. “She doesn’t have to know how serious we are yet. She just wouldn’t understand.”
I thought it was romantic that he would lie to her by omission. That we’d have little secrets that only the two of us would know. I thought they were harmless and bred intimacy. He’d tell me when he’d screwed up and bummed a cigarette, knowing I wouldn’t yell at him, only encourage him to do better. Adding, “Don’t tell her. She’d freak.” It made me proud. I was chill. I could handle the fact that he was imperfect. In reality, it should have made me nervous. Very nervous.
I became addicted to his confidence. To this feeling that he could tell me things he couldn’t bear to reveal to her. Over time, I felt his loyalties shifting, subtly, then explicitly. “Tell no one this, but if I’d met you when I was dating her, I would have dumped her and gotten with you instead. You’re the kind of woman I wish I’d married.”
I knew they’d become poly in the first place because the two of them kept cheating on each other, that all of their extramarital relationships had been full of dishonesty. That her ex-boyfriend of 4 years was married, and that the metamour, her ex-boyfriend’s wife, never knew. That Rob had slept with another woman the week before he and Michelle were married and didn’t let Michelle know for a few years after the fact. That he had broken rules with exes like “don’t fuck in our bed” and “let me know beforehand.”
It was arrogance to think I could be anything but part of the pattern of behavior, that somehow I could break the cycle through love, support, and my own efforts at ethical communication.
But I did learn a lot of lessons through Rob and Michelle. Here are just a few:
Pay close attention to how a lover speaks about their other partner. And whether or not they’re honest to them. It’s a great indicator of how they’ll treat you, too.
Just because someone has been polyamorous longer than you have, it doesn’t mean that they’re better at managing relationships.
When communicating, do not assume the other person has understood you. Dig. Confirm. If something seems a bit off, don’t bridge the distance in your brain. Challenge it.
Whenever possible, do not rely on a third party’s assurance that someone else will be fine with an agreement. Speak directly to the source. If you neglect this step, it is at your peril. It is hard enough to ensure you’re being understood when communicating directly with someone else. When you’re playing telephone with a third party in the middle? Holy monkeys.
Cautionary Poly: Teachable Moments in Polyamorous Relationships is a special feature of Poly Role Models. The goal of this feature is to highlight the fact that successful polyamory isn’t always free of mistakes…and those mistakes can definitely be gained from. Now accepting submissions. If you’ve got a story to share please post it here or email me at PolyRoleModels@gmail.com.
This is why I prefer Kitchen Table Poly. My partners don’t have to be texting each other constantly, but I appreciate being able to sit at a table, eat something, and just talk like normal people. Being able to do that, even if it’s a rarity, means the world to me.
he makes me all blushy and then I want to HIDE and he says it’s cute…
We can try to get around it by clever wordplay, vagueness, doublespeak. We can make only make promises we’re certain of, or have very high chances of success. But what happens when life intervenes? What happens when there’s nothing left; no effort, no energy, no struggle or self-awareness; to fuel the promise and fulfill it? What happens when, despite all your best efforts and time and perhaps even money thrown at the problem, you can’t do what you said you were going to?
We can try to get around it by clever wordplay, vagueness, doublespeak. We can make only make promises we’re certain of, or have very high chances of success. But what happens when life intervenes? What happens when there’s nothing left; no effort, no energy, no struggle or self-awareness; to fuel the promise and fulfill it? What happens when, despite all your best efforts and time and perhaps even money thrown at the problem, you can’t do what you said you were going to?
These are the questions that have been plaguing me the past few weeks. Since I got back from Minnesota, really. I’ve made quite a number of promises in the past year and there’s a few very sticky ones that I can’t seem to fulfill; and not through lack of trying. See, I promised my boyfriend that I’d be looking for work before I even went to see him in June. I promised him that I’d be looking, and that I would find a job, so I could help him; and Sir; to get out of the mounting money issues that have been threatening on the horizon.
Surgery isn’t cheap. Health isn’t cheap. Rent, food, medical bills, student loans, credit card debt, none of it comes cheaply. Why should I be the only one not pulling my weight in that arena…? Especially when it was; primarily; my poly heart leading the charge to date, and our shared past that led me back into Ry’s arms.
See, being the stay-at-home is one thing when it’s just you and one other partner. It can be balanced pretty well even in this day and age of multiple jobs and double mortgages if your partner has a decent job and you’re not very high maintenance. Well. It turns out that in addition to being “high maintenance” despite my best efforts; *no one plans for a cancer scare or that many surgeries in that short an amount of time!*; a long distance relationship takes quite a bit of time and effort to maintain. And more money than we initially suspected.
So, the easiest option is that I start working. It’s logical, it’s mentally sound, and it’s only reasonable. Except that my cocktail of mental health issues don’t seem to agree. A few good years with the dysphoria and depression might have made me shortsighted. It’s been nearly eighteen months since my last breakdown after all! I shouldn’t live in fear of my triggers or hide in the house. All of this was true, until yesterday. My first breakdown in a year and a half, and it was a depression and dysphoria-induced emotional rant that left two of us in tears and one trying to find the best road out and back to stability.
What happens when you can’t keep your promises?
You can be mad at yourself. Angry, and bitter, that you’re not “normal.” That life, for some reason, seems to have hit the Hard Mode option when it comes to you. You can bitch and complain, and some of that might even be healthy. Bottling your emotions only leads to explosions later on down the line.
You can cry about it. Mourn for everything that could have been, *if only.* But “if only” doesn’t satisfy the creditors, and it certainly doesn’t make that mountain any smaller. But then again, tears are an emotional release valve. All they really are is your body telling you “hey, you’re feeling a lot right now. Release it, and then take a good hard look at what’s going on.” They’re sort of a check-engine light of emotions.
You can try not to be what’s causing the problem. But castigating yourself over an accident of birth or circumstance isn’t going to fix it, and trying not to have PTSD, anxiety, depression, or “not being trans” will actively make it worse.
You can do the thing in spite of every emotional and mental flag waving at you saying “don’t do the thing.” Because you promised, and you hold yourself to be an honorable person. Because you gave your word and you keep it because that’s what honorable men do. Because you’re tired of offering what feel like excuses even though there’s very good medical reasons not to do the thing.
There isn’t a good answer. There isn’t a safe, comfortable, reasonable response when your heart and your brain are at war with each other. When doing the thing you promised to do means forcibly misgendering yourself, dealing with an unkind and uncaring public, and setting you back with regards to dysphoria while you live in a state that doesn’t allow you to amend your paperwork and makes HRT a pain in the ass to get…. even if you had the money to throw at the problem. Which is where this whole mess began in the first place.
What happens when you can’t keep your promises…?
You explain yourself as best you can. You make no excuses and lay everything at the feet of the people you gave your word to. You offer them the truth of you, and you hope they understand. You hope they forgive you, and that eventually you can get the help you require to make all those issues and roadblocks if not go away, lesser.
Like Sir said, you can’t handwave your emotions and you can’t just ignore your mental health when you make promises. You can’t give your word based on an idealized world.
Mostly, what happens when you can’t keep your promises I’ve found, is that the other honorable people in your life pull you in closer instead of pushing you away, and do their best to help you do better in the future. They let you put the effort down for a little while, go through all that emotional release, and pick it up again when you’re ready. And, in the meantime, do their best to figure out how to help. Whether that’s not asking the impossible, or being realistic themselves in what’s really possible in our non-idealized world.
We’re only human. Even honorable men forget that sometimes.
Taken from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D. A summary of the tips the book hands you on how to recognize emotionally healthy people.
They’re realistic and reliable
They work with reality rather than fighting it. They see problems and try to fix them, instead of overreacting with a fixation on how things should be.
They can feel and think at the same time. The ability to think even when upset makes an emotionally mature person someone you can reason with. They don’t lose their ability to see another perspective just because they aren’t getting what they want.
Their consistency makes them reliable. Because they have an integrated sense of self, they usually won’t surprise you with unexpected inconsistencies.
They don’t take everything personally. They can laugh at themselves and their foibles. They’re realistic enough to not feel unloved just because you made a mistake.
They’re respectful and reciprocal
They respect your boundaries. They’re looking for connection and closeness, not intrusion, control or enmeshment. They respect your individuality and that others have the final say on what their motivations are. They may tell you how they feel about what you did, but they don’t pretend to know you better than you know yourself.
They give back. They don’t like taking advantage of people, nor do they like the feeling of being used.
They are flexible and compromise well. Because collaborative, mature people don’t have an agenda to win at all costs, you won’t feel like you’re being taken advantage of. Compromise doesn’t mean mutual sacrifice; it means a mutual balancing of desires. They care about how you feel and don’t want to leave you feeling unsatisfied.
They’re even-tempered. They don’t sulk or pout for long periods of time or make you walk on eggshells.
When angered, they will usually tell you what’s wrong and ask you to do things differently. They’re willing to take the initiative to bring conflict to a close.
They are willing to be influenced. They don’t feel threatened when other people see things differently, nor are they afraid of seeming weak if they don’t know something. They may not agree, but they’ll try to understand your point of view.
They’re truthful. They understand why you’re upset if they lie or give you a false impression.
They apologize and make amends. They want to be responsible for their own behavior and are willing to apologize when needed.
They’re responsive
Their empathy makes you feel safe. Along with self-awareness, empathy is the soul of emotional intelligence.
They make you feel seen and understood. Their behavior reflects their desire to really get to know you, rather than looking for you to mirror them. They aren’t afraid of your emotions and don’t tell you that you should be feeling some other way.
They like to comfort and be comforted. They are sympathetic and know how crucial friendly support can be.
They reflect on their actions and try to change. They clearly understand how people affect each other emotionally. They take you seriously if you tell them about a behavior of theirs that makes you uncomfortable. They’ll remain aware of the issue and demonstrate follow-through in their attempts to change.
They can laugh and be playful. Laughter is a form of egalitarian play between people and reflects an ability to relinquish control and follow someone else’s lead.
They’re enjoyable to be around. They aren’t always happy, but for the most part they seem able to generate their own good feelings and enjoy life.
I’m home now, and basking in the dubious affection of two demon-hellspawn cats and reminiscing about my trip to Minnesota… in order, more or less:
Hotels have thin walls. We’re lucky we were placed near to the pool, and that there were very few people on our side of the hotel. It was a glorious reunion, and I’d forgotten how good Bucca’s calimari can be. Yes, even if they are tiny baby squid.
The Mall of America is even bigger; and smaller; than I remember it being as a child. I still ate the mini corndogs with relish and enjoyed every minute of spoiling my sweet boy.
Kilts are Awesome…. maaaaaaaybe just not in Texas Heat. Unless it’s canvas/denim.
I cannot get a leather top hat back to Texas safely…. and definitely not for $225. No. No matter HOW awesome they look.
Hamburgers are great, but so are loaded fries. Choose appropriately.
I still have a thing for sun dresses because they are cool when everything else is hot.
Pursuant to that, a dress is a tunic is a robe… just wear it. It’s comfy.
Flogging him was even more fun than imagined. Even better that I got whimpers and twitches instead of screams…. thin hotel walls~ Imagine!
The Midwest has some of the best god damned scenery… holy FUCK does it have some of the best god damned scenery. HELLOOOOOO Minnesota!
Smaller toy companies are amazing. I wanted to buy the entire store, I left with lunch and a burning desire for a certain steel cuff. (It’s stamped with ‘my’ constellation. C’mon!)
Heat Exhaustion is a dangerous thing… ask for what you need, or risk cutting the happy vacation time pathetically short. (Ry got an AC unit before I went up, and we camped out in the living room a total of three nights out of 17, three were spent in hotels)
His cat loves me! This is amazing… ow, ow ow…. tongue like sandpaper and rocks… ow… THIS IS STILL AWESOME… ow~ aww, she’s so… cute~
Snacks and rain is a hell of a combination. Especially when it comes after an uncomfortabel night. The next two weeks were almost all fair weather with rain and a breeze, except for a few afternoons we got heat advisories. SO NICE~
Coffee is good. Coffee with donuts is even better.
Yoga on a super cushy half-inch mat in front of a bay window while it rains, the windows are open to the breeze, and your favorite playlist is playing is divine.
His cat is truly beautiful…. damn it I wish she’d sit in my lap.
I can make truly good food with only a few ingredients if I’m not burning to death slowly~ (‘fried’ chicken with stirfry veggies and rice noodles~)
Even laundry day can be fun and goofy. I like partners who can make the boring pretty awesome!
A&W is better than a remember. Holy shit is it better than I remember!
HOLY FUCKBALLS MINNESOTA IS BEAUTIFUL~
Holy shit MINNESOTA HAS BEAUTIFUL HOUSES~ WHY are they all subdivided into apartments…? Tragedy.
Sunsets off the levee are gorgeous af.
Small town comic shops are GREAT. So are trade paperbacks of my absolute favorite discontinued story… thank you, elskede~
Wisconsin has good vineyards, who the fuck knew??? more importantly. Who the fuck KNEW AND DID NOT TELL ME??? Frantic text: Sir can I please drink? Apple Wine. Seriously. Look up Seven Hawks and their Apple, and their Chocolate and Cherries wines. Istg. fucking HELL its tasty~
Bonfires and celestial gazing are awesome. Bug bites are not. Next time, bring bug spray you dingus.
Minnesota and Wisconsin have incredible ice cream. I’m going to miss the ice cream.
Cats will generally prefer the box to the thing that came in the box. Even if it’s their first ever cat tree. Don’t be offended…. play with them in the box.
Kisses taste better through the giggles.
Cats are assholes. Yes, even the pretty ones. Ok…. especially the pretty ones.
Good gods he’s pretty when he sleeps…. I wanna take a picture. Ok, a dozen. Ok… I’ll show him when he wakes up and see if he’s ok with it and delete them if he hates it. Aw, he’s ok with it. Awwww he let me keep them. Yay. …. god he’s pretty when he sleeps.
Fish tacos. OMG fucking home made fish tacos wtf wtf how did I not make these sooner???
Holy SHITBALLS Minnesota has some great looking houses…. can I move here?
God the scenery…. I’m gonna miss this scenery.
Wandering around small towns is GREAT~ Hello old fashioned soda fountain. Hello tiny greek bar for no apparent reason. Hello Arak! Hello Mon Pastis! Hello Ouzo~ HELLO cajun eatery! HELLO MOTHER FUCKING ALLIGATOR TAIL!!! WOO!! (we had Two Shots. Between us.)
Hello Antique Mall! Oooohhh fuck I’m really really gay aren’t I? OHHH Vintage Gloves! …. Damn it yeah I’m gay. As FUCK. But c’mon, they have pearl buttons.
Damn it not this shit again. BABE we’re gonna go camp out in the living room. Oohhh…. you know what, we COULD bring the mattress from the bed. Why haven’t we been doing this all week? Fuck the pullout couch babe, BRING ON THE MATTRESS!!!
This cat screams for food every morning at six. … why am I gonna miss this so much? Oh. Right. Because she’s soft and she’s pretty and she has a red nose. Duh.
…ok what is it with Minnesota and victorian houses???
Fucking hell. I already miss this scenery. Damn.
Hello little tea house where I NEED to stop for lunch! Babe, babe c’mon, fuck culver’s lets do uhhh…. the Violet Twig? Yeah, I know I’m a fag. Guess what? it’s CUTE. Also damn, High Tea for Two for only 30?? Why can’t SA have shit like this!!
Ooohhh, a waterfall and park you say? Let’s go! We don’t have to check in at the hotel for what, another three hours? Let’s DO THIS!
ow ow ow bug bites, ow… yes but fuck it’s PRETTY! Shade, trails, the small rapids… so cool! God I miss nature…. damn it I need to go hiking more. Just… maybe not in a Texas Summer, yeah?
Damn it why is he so pretty in this light? Fuck I’m gonna miss this…
WHY DOES MINNESOTA HAVE AN OBSESSION WITH VICTORIAN HOUSES??
Ok, the question here is why do I have an obsession with victorian houses. Admit you have a problem. that’s the first step, right?
This room smells like peppermint. Why does our hotel room smell like peppermint?
Pools are fun. So are hot tubs. So are both when it’s only the two of you, because you’re swimming at 3:30 in the afternoon. Also holy FUCK they have good acoustics in here~
I stg if you sing the rest of Stars I will …. idk. I’ll splash you. yeah that.
Damn it why does this have to end…? How the hell did TWO WEEKS go that quick??
Hotel sheets feel divine when you’ve been sweating your butt off the past two days. Also damn it why does this have to end??
Even the sky is crying. Well that’s appropriate af. Also where was this rain two days ago??
I hate flying. I hate airports. Gods damn it all I don’t wanna go. Six months, yeah? Just six this time? I think I can make that work. Gods please let me make that work.
HOW IS DFW worse than O’HARE??? What is a light rail? How does this work? wtf how does this work. Are they changing my gate AGAIN?? Oh god food need food…. ok, had food, oh god please don’t change my gate again-
Damn it DFW doesn’t even have a good airport bar.
Oh hello text from Sir…. well yeah of course I can change into the black sundress and long socks…. uhm, no underwear? Oh gods… well. Uhm. y’know what? Yours to command~ If You want it, You got it!
Damn it this plane doesn’t serve a full drinks menu because it’s too short. Good on them, bad for me… Drown my sorrow in a short bottle of dasani. Sure that works. Iprobably shouldn’t be drunk in this outfit…
HOME HOME HOME HOME…. oh god it’s hot, of course it is it’s TEXAS…. hot~ oh no, WIND!! grabs at skirts
Damn, car trouble… WHERE IS THE NEAREST BAR? AC, Alcohol, and Appetizers~
Drinks drinks drinks drinks~ Water? Drinks~ Oh hello slutty bathroom pics for Sir, where have you been the past coupla weeks?
Baby I made it, and there’s some car trouble, but I’m with Sir and we’re drinking before dinner, I love you!!
Tow truck toe truck tow truck toe truck~ (I’m a happy drunk when I am allowed to drink~)
Damn it that comic got smushed in transit…. at least it wasn’t the Paperback~
mmmmm takeout asian food~ yay! God I love lemon chicken…. fucking hell I love Lemon Chicken~ It’s nice to be back. Damn it I miss my boy.
Can we please just all move to the same city soon, PLEASE? ❤
House Of Crows 