What's Right Ain't Always Easy

I've been poly for, gosh, over two years now. It's hard to believe it's been that long.

Especially considering that I still feel like a poly n00b. Because in fact, poly can still be really hard for me at times.

I got into poly because I liked a girl, and didn't want to break up with my boyfriend for her, and it just so happened we all liked each other and formed a triad for a while. But I stayed poly because I believe in the tenets of openness and honesty - to myself as much as to my partner(s) - and freedom - for my own feelings as much as for my, and my partners', actions.

And that's why, when given the chance to back down from a boundary that turned out to make me a little uncomfortable in practice, I chose to hold my ground and fight the good fight against my own insecurity and jealousy. Because I didn't get into this just to slowly slide back into monogamy because that's what's comfortable and my girlfriend would be fine with it. I got into this so that I and the people I love can express their love and affection freely, so that I don't have to censor myself, and so that I don't control the bodies of other people in my life.

The thing is, change, even good change, is uncomfortable. I've experienced this in a variety of contexts recently. Even though I prefer a male name and pronouns now, introducing myself with them was a little awkward at first. Confronting my privilege on various fronts is uncomfortable. So why would living as poly when I've grown up in a largely monogamous society be any different?

It's worth facing the discomfort, though. I wouldn't feel right with myself if I didn't support my girlfriend's freedom to do what she chooses with her body. The boundary that we have concerns what can be done spontaneously and what needs to be discussed first, and I think it's a reasonable boundary. It's something that allows us to express ourselves, our feelings, freely to a certain extent, without having to delay to discuss it first.

The spontaneity part, however, led me to feel that something was sprung on me without being discussed first (earth to Tal: that was the whole point of the agreement!) which made me feel uncomfortable. Why didn't she tell me ahead of time? After a long phone call and equally long series of text messages, I realized that was the point. She didn't have to tell me ahead of time. That was what I had wanted - for us, both of us, to be able to do things to a certain point without needing to stop and talk about it.

Now, what actually happened - she wanted me to clarify so there are no misconceptions, since people we know IRL read this blog - is that while she was out of town, she slept next to someone and let them spoon with her. This is no big deal. I definitely have no problem with spooning, since there are about half a dozen friends that I would happily spoon or cuddle with, without it even being sexual. Physical contact is a nice thing. And I want my girlfriend to have nice things.

What got me is that while telling me about what happened, she said she told the other person, "I already cleared it with my boyfriend." Wait, what? When? That's when the anxiety kicked into overdrive. It took an hour of talking and texting for the emotional part of my brain to calm down and let the rational part remind me, We talked about it months ago. She cleared it then. I had just never processed it that way. I had been so focused on not going past the boundary, reminding myself, "Don't kiss anyone without talking to the girlfriend first!" (and, I even messed that up once >.<) that I didn't even think about what I could do. Or what she could do.

So I was caught off guard. I got confused, and anxious, and jealous. It took a bit to calm down the green-eyed monster and remember that, No, this was what I wanted, for both of us. I want this freedom for her.

During our long talk, my girlfriend expressed that since I was uncomfortable, and since she has pretty much no interest in other people, we can take a step back - she can avoid things like spooning with other people without talking about it first. It was very tempting to give in to fear and jealousy, and say yes to that. But that, I realized, would be tantamount to a slide back into monogamy, or even worse, a one-sided relationship where I can be poly because she doesn't get jealous, but she can't because I do. How is that fair? I don't want to give up on being poly, and that means I can't deny my girlfriend the same freedom. In fact, I want her to have it, to be able to express her affection and fulfill her physical needs as she sees fit. Those things make people happy, and I want her to be happy. Of course, it's preferable to do it with open discussion and awareness of each other's feelings. But to say that that we have to discuss before anything physical happens with anyone else seems unreasonably restrictive - being allowed to be mildly physical with other people without needing to talk about it first is reasonable, I believe.

Even though surprises unnerve me, and when I'm unnerved, the chain reaction to jealousy can get set off.

So what that means is that I have my work cut out for me. Because no way am I going to let this relationship be ruled by anxiety, insecurity and jealousy. I am better than that. I want something better than that for both of us. In a way, the incident was a wake-up call, that I had gotten complacent in the battle against the ingrained paths of fear, jealousy and control that monogamous culture has created in me. Because of those thought patterns, it's really not easy being poly - at least not for me. But it's something I believe in, and so I won't succumb to jealousy. It snuck up on me this time, but now I'm on my guard, so hopefully, the next time something spontaneous happens, I won't be surprised.

Loving Without Suffering (Part 1?)

Love is painful. We seem to accept this, that no matter whether it's longing for a love interest who may or may not be available, or grieving the loss of someone who no longer wants to be involved in the way they were before, or worrying about the future of a relationship that's weathering problems. Love involves longing for something we may not be able to have, something that might seem elusive and uncertain. In poly relationships, love can seem to bring extra suffering in the form of jealousy, which often stems from the fear of losing a loved one to someone else.

But this kind of suffering doesn't really come from love. Love is a giving, accepting, nurturing feeling. Love doesn't confine or grasp. What's actually causing the suffering is attachment - the human desire to cling to what we have, our craving for permanence and stability.

The thing is though, that nothing lasts forever. Flowers bloom and turn into fruit, which then rots. Leaves grow, dry up, fall and grow again. On the cosmic scale, our sun will collapse on itself in trillions of years, and even the universe will eventually die. On the microscopic scale, our cells are constantly growing and dying. And our thoughts and feelings shift from moment to moment; we aren't even the same person we were a moment ago. This may seem like a "big picture" view, but why not look at the big picture? If you think about it, everything is constantly changing. So getting attached to things (people, relationships) necessarily causes suffering, since things will inevitably change.

This isn't to say we shouldn't care about other people, or take pleasure in the joy they bring us. (I think I'll need to write another post on this topic.) But clinging to people and the feelings they give us can cause suffering, since people change and situations change. It's necessary to have a balance, to love without clinging.

I'm going through a breakup of a serious relationship right now, which is what led me to reflect on this topic. Even though part of me thinks the breakup is for the best, another part of me still misses the past and wishes it could have continued. It's natural to grieve. I'm not denying that. But at the same time, I want to move on, to continue my life and embrace the things the future will bring.

To do that, I've been reminding myself that change is natural, in order to reduce my clinging to the past and my suffering because things can't stay the same. I'm a fan of mantras; I use them to redirect my thoughts and emotions in all kinds of situations. Some of the mantras I've used to deal with the gigantic changes in my life are:

• Nothing stays the same.
• Everything changes.
• Nothing lasts forever.
• Change is the only constant.
• No moment is like any other.
• Every moment is brand new.
• Anything can happen.
• Change is awesome.
• Life is exciting.
• Life is amazing!

I usually string four or six of them together to move myself from longing for what's gone, to looking forward to the future: "Nothing lasts forever. Everything changes. Every moment is brand new. Life is amazing!"

One day last week, I was walking up to the office building where I work, and happened to be thinking how uncertainty made the whole world seem fresh - and suddenly I saw the blue sky outlined by the arches of the building's facade as though for the first time. Life is so amazing when you live every moment as though the world were brand new.

I should say, though, that although this thinking can reduce suffering, I don't think it will eliminate suffering altogether. It's human nature to become attached, to crave security and wish that good things could last forever. Realizing this and realizing that actually, the world is fluid and we can't actually keep anything should help reduce suffering - but the suffering will still initially happen, because we're human.

Also, this sort of thinking isn't just for dealing with breakups. One of the goals of the polyamory movement is to get away from possessiveness in relationships. Your partner doesn't belong to you. They're their own person, who can do whatever they want, really. I believe that reducing attachment to a person or relationship - reducing the need to keep and hold onto them - could also reduce the sense of possessiveness in a relationship, and lead to greater freedom and openness to what the future may bring.

My guide in this endeavor has been the Canadian Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön; her book The Places That Scare You has been a great source of wisdom. That was where I got the idea that rather than seeing the constant change of the world as something frightening and threatening, to be denied and avoided, we should see it as exciting - every moment is new, a moment that has never been before and never will be again. Many of the insights here come from Pema Chödrön or her teachers, I've just applied them to dealing with changes in relationships.

So how do you love someone without obsessing about "keeping" them? Well, I need to think about that some more, so expect a "part 2" later on addressing this question :)