polythought

[polythought]

It's been a couple of years since my last post... again! Hello everyone 👋

Tumblr recently told me it is the 10th anniversary of this blog. Can't believe it.

This month marks 12 years of polyamory for me. If I started writing about it two years in... Huh, well, it's been so long now since then that I'm curious what I was writing back then (haven't looked in a long time) and wonder how much I'd still stand by and what I've changed my views on or approach to.

10 years of this Tumblr means I was technically still in my 20s when I started it. I'm nearly 40 now.

12 years of polyamory also feels like a milestone because it marks the year that I've been polyamorous for half of my dating life. My first-ever monogamous relationship started 24 years ago...yep, Y2K. I was in high school. After 12 years of serial monogamy, I found myself single and decided to commit to at least trying polyamory. I'm so glad I did.

I may have more of my own reflections later, but now I'll ask y'all this question: if you used to be monogamous and now are polyamorous, what has your love life felt like on either side of that divide? Does it feel like the right trajectory for you, or is that something you're still figuring out? What flipped the switch for you--or was it someone else's idea, and you took the plunge along with them? Even if you're not polyamorous but perhaps want to be or think you might want to be--what are your hopes for the years to come?

[polythought]

I've always tried to be a serial NONmonogamist.

That probably sounds kinda funny. Because I still have multiple relationships in parallel, it's true. But my approach to NEW relationships is serial.

As in: I don't start pursuing new connections unless I am pretty sure I wouldn't be beyond my polysaturation point if I kept seeing everyone I'm already seeing AND anyone new I'm pursuing.

I'm looking for long-term, ongoing relationships, regardless of how often I see the person. So I go into every first date with the baseline assumption that it will go that way, even though of course there's no guarantee it will, which is also okay. Once I know I've got enough partners + prospective partners to consider myself polysaturated, I hold off on going on any more first dates until the sum total of my existing/prospective relationships means I still have room to add someone new. Sometimes, this happens even without a breakup, such as when I figure out that schedules mean a new sweetie and I can only see each other pretty rarely. And sometimes it happens because of a breakup.

But I never want it to happen because my eyes were bigger than my stomach. I've experienced how rotten it feels to realize you've been passed over for a shiny new thing, even when the person you've been seeing wasn't necessarily UNinterested in you. They've just gotten in over their head, and due to the limited number of hours in the day, ended up choosing someone other than you.

This year marks a decade I've been polyamorous, which is wild to think about. Anyway, my approach seemed to work reasonably well for me for, hmm, maybe the first five years or so. I don't really know what shifted since then. And I don't know if it's a shift in my local scene or if it's widespread. I'm interested to hear if others have noticed this, too. The problem I've been running into in more recent years is that more, if not most, people on the nonmongamous dating scene are dating in parallel, not serially.

The approach I see is that people go on dates freely. Over time, they figure out which connections they want to invest in. The other people may be formally told they're no longer a priority, but more likely, they get breadcrumbed. We're all supposed to be chill, keeping things casual by default unless or until two people just so happen to align in wanting more.

This...has caused me problems. I'm the antithesis of a casual dater. Sometimes feelings don't develop for one or both people, and that's okay. Sometimes I would rather be FWB. But I tend to figure that out later, only after getting to know someone with the intent of figuring out whether we're a match for a serious LTR.

Turns out there's a clash between these approaches that has led to me feeling disempowered. What happens is that I take someone at their word early in dating when they say they're interested in seeing me again but they don't name a time, for whatever reason. Because I believe their words, I do not schedule other first dates because I do not want to let a new person down when the previous person comes back around. The feeling I've had is that by saying "yes, let me know when you're free!" to the first person, I then owe it to them to keep enough availability in my schedule to follow through when they come back and name the times they're free.

And to an extent, that's true; that IS how I want to be. And I still offer it. But I've been needing to put a much shorter time limit on that than I have in the past.

Because I've spent weeks, months even, avoiding swiping on dating apps or trying to meet new people while waiting for someone who's put me on hold but never actually comes back around. As a serial dater myself, I want to take someone seriously when they say they're going to get back to me about scheduling. Because if I say something like that, I mean it. And if I realize after saying it that I didn't really mean it (because yes, I've been there too!), I circle back to the person, apologize, and tell them that I've realized I'm not feeling a connection. Unfortunately, I've learned others don't reliably do the same. (Disclaimer: I know that sometimes, direct communication to reject someone can be unsafe. I don't fault people for avoiding it in that situation.)

So that I don't put my dating life on hold anymore for parallel daters, my new approach is more like this: If someone says they'd like to see me again but can't say when (especially if they don't name a time *when* they'll be able to make a plan), I let them know that I'd love to hear from them, and that if my availability still allows when they're ready to schedule, I'd be happy to make a plan.

That "if my availability still allows" bit is the crux of it.

In the past, I would have thought that it was my obligation to people I already knew not to move on when they say their interest is still there. Now, I know that I'm in charge of how long I'm willing to wait. I worried about letting down a new person. Now, I know that I don't have to: I can choose to prioritize the new person I've met, assuming they're reliably scheduling time with me, and I can instead turn down the person who kept me on the back burner.

This doesn't mean I always will need to do that! Maybe the previous person comes back around and I happen to still have space. I'll probably be genuinely happy to schedule with them if so. This isn't about punishing them.

Also, the longer I've known someone with a pattern of seeing them, the more flexible I'm likely to be: Trust builds up over time. I usually like to know during or shortly after a date when my next date will be with someone; clearly, I'm a planner. I used to consider that a non-negotiable, but I've gotten more flexible about that over time. Still, there are limits. Eventually, I've got to know roughly how often I'm going to see someone (through actions, not just words), or I'll end up holding space for them that I could be offering to someone else (and also myself, to build the love life that I want).

[polythought]

*brushes dust off my Tumblr* It's been two years since I actively used this space, but I'm thinking of starting to write here again. Hello to anyone who's still reading! 👋

[polythought]

Hi all! I'm going to start posting some content on a new facebook page. Feel free to give me a follow over there: https://fb.me/polyamory.musings

[polythought]

The question is often posed: Do you think polyamory is an orientation or a choice?

Here's my response, adapted from a comment I wrote on Facebook:

I hit a point in my life when I realized that if I committed to a monogamous relationship for the rest of my life, I would have deathbed regrets, no matter how fiercely and devotedly I loved who I was with. That was probably the turning point for my eventual realization that this was something intrinsic for me.

I also believe there are people who choose polyamory, who don't feel the way I feel about it.

But here's another thought to ponder: Could ambiamory be an orientation, too, much like bisexuality is? (Ambiamory is a newer term to me, but I didn't coin it!)

A monogamous bi person doesn't stop being bi.

Perhaps a mono or poly ambiamorous person doesn't stop being ambiamorous, either.

I'm not saying it's wrong for someone to frame polyamory as a choice for them. I'm just saying there's an additional possible way to look at things such that you can have an orientation that allows that choice without either option feeling like a burden.

[polythought]

yes 2020 has sucked like a ravenous kirby but in november we finally get to vote that hateful orange turd out of office so eyes on the prize ya’lls

[polythought]

There's a question that I see come up over and over again in polyamory groups online:

"Isn't hierarchy inherent in a long-term relationship? If your life is intertwined with someone's, and if you've made commitments, how can you deny that this person is more important than someone you just met, or someone you see less often, or someone you don't have entanglements with?"

Opinions on this topic vary. Here's mine:

First of all, it's not a good idea to rank people. Second: No, hierarchy is not inherent. Hierarchy is a choice. However, simultaneously, being non-hierarchical does not mean you are obligated to do exactly the same things with everyone or do them in the same timeframe; make equal commitments about time, energy, or a shared future; feel the same way about everyone; or keep an even tally of who you are prioritizing if needs come into conflict.

Hierarchy isn't about any of those things. Hierarchy, the way I see it, is about making a decision in advance, or knowing in the back of your head even if it isn't conscious, that you will choose to weight one partner's needs or desires over another's if they are in conflict. To me, to be non-hierarchical, what I need to do is commit to giving due and equitable consideration to each partner each time a decision comes up that means their needs conflict. And then owning that decision. No "sorry, they're my spouse, you should know that's how things are and not be upset about this." Rather, "in this case, I am going to be there for my spouse. I'm sorry that this means I'm also letting you down. I'm willing to hear about your needs and am always going to consider them if similar situations arise in the future. For now, how can I help you feel valued?" It may be the case if I'm dating someone with a spouse that they "choose" their spouse more often, or spend more time with their spouse than me even if I want to see them more than I do, and that choice isn't inherently hierarchical to me as long as I feel that my needs and desires are being considered in real time and my partner is just as accountable to me for their choices as they are to their spouse. I don't need equal; I need equal opportunity to have my needs heard and considered. Eventually, if I'm not getting my needs met EVER in a relationship, that would likely end the relationship...but that has nothing to do with hierarchy unless my partner makes it hierarchical. If instead, they make an effort to meet my needs as often as possible and show a willingness over time to think of creative solutions (and sometimes a long-term relationship *does* have to change in some way in order to accommodate a new one), we will grow together to find the best-fitting format for our individual relationship. Equity, not equality. Everyone getting enough of their needs met in a particular relationship to be happy in that relationship.

In my view, being non-hierarchical like that is just as possible to do if you are married or in a long-term relationship or not. However, what I believe you CAN'T avoid, whether you like it or not, is couples privilege for as long as you are perceived by others as being a member of a couple. There was a time I thought I could just ~not do~ couples privilege. Then my views evolved to recognize that couples privilege is not something I choose. That mindset would allow me to absolve myself of what's inherently an ongoing thing to manage. Couples privilege, I now believe, is actually something that happens *to you* when you are in a socially approved and visible relationship. By getting married, I have actively chosen to ask my community to see and approve that relationship. I want that and I value it! But it comes with a responsibility to anyone else I might be involved with, and that's my regular examination of the ways that couples privilege makes my life easier in one relationship, and could blind me to needs that other partners might have to ask for (or might be afraid to ask for) versus being able to assume will be met. I try to communicate very openly about both what my commitments and routines are AND where there's flexibility. Of course, it's not always possible to foresee what a new partner might want or need and predict whether I'll be able to offer it, but my hope is that by creating an atmosphere where talking about it is okay, we will be as ready as we can be to approach the unexpected situations, too.

[polythought]

I've been thinking a lot lately about TIME in relation to polyamory.

They say that love is an infinite resource but time is not.

I'd wager that everyone who has more than one partner, or who has a partner with more than one partner, or both, has experienced needing to be conscious about time management. Love may not be getting divvied up, but your time is. (The only possible exceptions I can think of being triads or other group relationships where no one is allowed dyad time apart from the group--which I don't think is a healthy practice, by the way.)

I comfort myself when I'm fearing loss of connection related to a partner's other relationship by reminding myself that one person cannot replace another. This is true. And one relationship cannot replace another relationship. This is also true.

What about this, though:

One span of quality time cannot replace another span of quality time.

Whoa. Interesting thought, self (I say to myself).

Yes, our mortal lives have a finite number of minutes in them. Yes, any minutes a partner spends apart from you are not minutes you can claim later. But I find myself extending that finite nature in my head to mean something more gloomy than it actually does. In my low moments, it feels like a partner being present with another partner somehow NEGATES something about their relationship with me. It's not true; but it can feel that way.

In some of my best romantic moments, time seems to stop. I suppose that's why it can feel, when I imagine a partner spending time with someone else, like all OUR times together...past or future...are somehow less meaningful. Because I imagine time has stopped for them, and what does that say about their life outside that moment?

But time hasn't ACTUALLY stopped.

And just like one person doesn't replace another, one moment in time doesn't replace another.

I've found it soothing to picture my polycule on dates almost...spread out in a map of time.

Maybe it sounds like I'm trippin', I dunno.

But when I imagine a constellation of special moments in time, all coexisting peacefully, it doesn't feel so much anymore like presence with one person takes something away from the reality of presence with another person.

And after all, I know from having these experiences myself that I can be absorbed in a moment with one person and it means absolutely nothing negative about anyone else or my feelings for them or my desire to be present with them in the future. There's a mental hurdle to extending that to others, sometimes, but this strategy has seemed to help.

[polythought]

Here's a radical notion that's only just occurred to me...

Someone can love you even when they're not thinking of you.

I don't live with a partner. I also tend to date extremely independent types. For me, this results in highly prizing any knowledge that someone is still thinking about me when we're not together. That it isn't just "out of sight, out of mind."

And I just recently put two and two together to realize that this is one reason I struggle with jealousy sometimes. Because I believe (for myself and for others!) that it's best to focus your attention on the partner you're with and not get preoccupied by being in constant communication with your other partners, this means that I can potentially feel disconnected when I know a partner's with someone else. Because on the one hand, I truly don't want them to be thinking of me. And on the other hand, to some part of my brain, it feels like abandonment to know they're not.

I don't think people are ultimately in competition with one another in healthy polyamory. One person can't replace another. Every person is unique and every relationship is unique, and that's the beauty of it. But I *do* believe in fairly undivided attention when you're on a date.

But love? Love doesn't get divided, so there's no such thing as undivided *love*. Rather, love, as I've heard said and do believe, multiplies.

So the radical idea for me is this: that someone can still love me even when they're not thinking of me. That attention can focus on one person at a time when you're together. And maybe when you're alone, your thoughts flit between your partners more, and that's really the time I want to hope I'm frequently on someone's mind when we are apart. But when they're with another partner? I hope that partner will be the one on their mind.

But the love for me is still there, because love is not the same as attention. Attention is only one sign of love, and maybe that's a radical, new idea for me, too.

[polythought]

A few truths I'm reminding myself about while I'm separated from sweeties, serious and casual, during a pandemic--always relevant and always things I need to remind myself of, but particularly now:

1. Regardless of communication habits or disruptions to our routines, they're probably thinking positively about me more often than I realize.

2. Their connections with others aren't a sign that I'm being left in the dust, even if we aren't seeing each other at any given time.

3. Even though these are ~trying times~, I can still ask for something if I want or need it.

4. Particularly because of how trying the times are, erring on the side of patience and understanding (while still maintaining my own boundaries) is a good call.

[polythought]

Black lives will ALWAYS matter!!! ✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿💖💖

Feel free to use~ {Please do not remove my caption}

[polythought]

What do you mean it is not almost done? Everything is opening up again so we can get back to normal.

Things are opening up, but the virus is still very very much a threat. Things opening up is directly against the recommendations of doctors and researchers. If people start mingling again, a whole lot of people are going to die.

[polythought]

“Brenda Howard was radical in every sense of the word. Born in the Bronx, this Jewish, Bisexual, Polyamorous woman is credited as being the ‘Mother of Pride’ for her work organizing the first Christopher Street Liberation March, the first week-long series of events leading up to Pride, and for coining and popularizing the word ‘Pride’ in relation to these celebrations.”

—

LGBTQ Pride Month Spotlight: Brenda Howard, OUTMemphis 

Important to remember during LGBTQ+ History Month, and always! 

[polythought]

bisexual men……. exist.

[polythought]

Seeing memes like "do good deeds and tell no one" is something I have mixed feelings about. I know we're "supposed" to value not needing credit for stuff. And...I don't think I *need* credit? When I tell people I've done something that I think is good, it's not because I want a pat on the back. It's because I'm trying to encourage a culture of doing the same.

I know that if I hear a friend of mine did something awesome, that often inspires me to do it, too. Sometimes, a personal connection is motivating that way.

I worry that a lot of my friends might be doing good deeds and it'll never cross my mind that I could do something similar because I didn't hear about it.

Of course people can make general suggestions. Ideas. People can introspect about nice things to do based on what they've heard about strangers doing or strangers suggesting. Or things that have been done for them. Or an internal sense of what's right and altruistic. But I also think the chances of joining a trend increase the closer you are to the folks doing it. And if you don't know they're doing it, that opportunity may be lost.

So I'm going to go out on a limb and say...tell me the good things you're doing.

I don't actually think I believe that it's morally superior to tell no one.

[polythought]

What new challenges have you faced in your relationships with the onset of social distancing? And/or: What new and positive forms of connection have emerged? Just curious to hear how this is going for everyone. ❤️

[polythought]