the agony aunt speaks.

[lovefromgirl]

Staff Robot can kiss my ass.

OKCupid must be down to pulling names out of hats in its efforts to match me. It won't venture much past 35 in doing so, either, when I've told it "25-50" or something to that effect. I may have to pull up that minimum age, frankly, because I'm being proven correct about (most) men in my cohort. One told me today that it knew all of my objections to him and it didn't care.

Staff Robot, you told that to get in touch with me? Are you high?

...

For those who wonder why it's taken my long-winded arse this long to start a blog here, I also keep one at postraphstunner.wordpress.com and that's where most of my thoughts go.

Honestly, my poly journey (oh, how twee) has been more a matter of sorting out individual quirks and not so much a problem with polyamory. Poly suits me. For an introvert, I have an oddly extroverted view of family. I think it should sprawl. I think love can multiply to accommodate the sprawl. I fancy buying up an apartment building somewhere temperate and installing all my friends and loves.

Finding more family, though, that's been a challenge. I could branch out to something like match.com, since I'm scraping the bottom of the OKCupid barrel. Face it: I don't live where there are scads of poly people. I've met or communicated with most of the locals. I wonder sometimes if there's anyone nearly as compatible with me as CdM. Wouldn't that be a pisser? To be monogamous-by-default because nobody else gets me?

But leaving CdM in order to experience more than one proper partner in my lifetime is not an option. Oh, he's told me it is, if I despair. The thing is that I'd be leaving someone who has become my best friend, confidante, and beloved for... what? Someone who thinks a big part of me is at best unusual? I make sense to CdM. He makes sense to me. My metamour even gets it. I'd be stupid to bail just because other people are too chicken to join me in the awesome.

So screw it. I can cope. (With the help of some salty language, but. Cope.) I'm done bending into a pretzel to fit someone else's idea of who I should be. This is who I am. These are the parts I have kept after a long process of deciding which ones work and which are just scrap metal. If I change, I change for me.

And how is your afternoon?

[NovemberRain]

My afternoon was slightly better than the rest of my week, and my afternoon was fairly crappy. So glad you asked. :) [my whole work week was pure crap, really, punctuated by one piece of good news yesterday, and one today. And both of those are surrounded with more trouble due to the good news.]

Okay, enough of Debbie Downer.

Yay, you started a blog! Excellent ranting. Looking forward to whatever may come.

[lovefromgirl]

This is a safe space for Debbie Downers and Negative Nellies. Come one, come all, come cranky, come snarky. :)

Very sorry that your work week sucked. I love how good news comes wrapped in bad. /sarcasm

[GalaGirl]

So screw it. I can cope. (With the help of some salty language, but. Cope.) I'm done bending into a pretzel to fit someone else's idea of who I should be. This is who I am. These are the parts I have kept after a long process of deciding which ones work and which are just scrap metal. If I change, I change for me.

HA! Good for you! :D

There have been days where I shake fist in metaphorical air and shout inside my brain, "Godsdammit! So help me, if it freakin' KILLS me -- I will life my life as I see fit because it is MINE! Life is not a dress rehearsal! Play ball!"

Rootin' for ya!

GG :)

[lovefromgirl]

Dreams can be torture.

People I used to love (or really, really, REALLY like) keep popping up in them. I dreamed, f'rinstance, that someone I used to want had not taken up with a total idiot after his divorce, and had not turned out to be kind of a douche. I dreamed he was a troubled, brooding single dad with one hell of a nanny -- this woman was massive, like an Olympic weightlifter, and so friendly! And sure, in the dream, I had to rebuild a bridge I'd burned, but it worked out for the best. It was a glimpse into a future I might have had if not for the whole poly thing.

Or was it? Because even if I'd been mono, a douche is a douche and bad taste in women endures. If I'd staked my claim when I learned he was single again, his ex might've poisoned me against people I have kept around who do matter and who aren't douches. Worst of all, we would probably have been miserable; we really don't have enough in common. He left a woman like me for, it turns out, a woman unlike anyone any of us knew. Another single parent, so he'll end up supporting several children instead of his own two. Bad hair, no decorum (bikini pics on Facebook and all!). Passing acquaintance with the finer points of the English language; a disregard for them all the same.

That was what he wanted, after all. Let him have it. Let them grow vulgar and old together. You drink your cheap beer; I'll have mine imported from Belgium. You watch your Sunday night football; I'll take my football European, with a side of rugby.

We could've been great -- but I would've got fed up with him before too long, wouldn't I? and left him because no, he's not what he pretended to be at all, and there's no changing another person to suit you (surely the ex understands).

[lovefromgirl]

(I promise this is relevant to the board. Has to do with another thread, actually. Not a blog thread. An advice thread. I think this is where I'm coming from on the subject.)

I never did like DBT (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dialectical_behavior_therapy).

For one thing, I associate a lot of that whole Buddhist/Zen woo with a chap I'll call "Zero". I was with him while I was working on a play called The Love of The Nightingale (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Love_of_the_Nightingale). I was twenty-one and learning how to stand my ground, only he didn't seem to want that. He seemed to want me to yield. He saw fire in me and he wanted water.

I believe in balance, myself, so I told him where he could stuff his water. It was the beginning of the end of a not-very-good thing. We had some fundamental incompatibilities. He was into me dropping everything for the sake of love and following him where he wanted to go. Twenty-one being different from twenty-six, I was not in a position to see how I could accomplish this and still have the career of my choice. His lovely backwoods seemed not to have anything in the field I had then chosen (for the wrong reasons -- another post).

I still can't look back on the sex without feeling violated somehow. It wasn't rape. But it wasn't entirely consensual after the first couple of times, and the consequences of that have carried forward into my relationship with CdM. My blessed beloved has been patient with me while I worked it out in my head. CdM and I have worked within the boundaries of what I have needed to feel safe. They shift as I grow, but growth is as painful as it is beneficial sometimes.

Zero didn't care that I'd given up my virginity in the middle of putting on a play about rape. The significance of the act alone in this society is momentous; the significance coupled with a new understanding of consent pretty much blew my mind. Not his, for some reason.

The kicker is that he turned out non-monogamous like I did, only his wasn't entirely ethical. We would've fallen apart even if I hadn't felt he was silencing me.

---

And I hated group.

Nineteen or twenty years old, probably twenty (2007 was a weird year), sitting in a cold linoleum room with harsh lights that gave me headaches and people who had no clue what I was dealing with. People I didn't understand, either. It wasn't a group. It was ten-odd sad sacks thrown into the same day program for very different reasons, having so little in common that if I'd been in my right mind, I'd have written about it.

If I thought my will to live had been sapped before, man, I had not encountered group therapy. It isn't supposed to make the participant more eager to kill herself, is it? But you can only listen to so many "Drugs screwed my life" or "Divorce screwed my life" stories before you say to the facilitator, "I'm probably not supposed to be here." Brain chemistry screwed my life. Following the rules screwed my life. I hadn't had a relationship last longer than a few weeks and I had definitely never tried what the stoners on the church corner offered me.

Being Young and Rebellious, I wasn't in any mood to hear about regulating my emotions in order not to disrupt useless bloody group. To this day, regulating my emotions to satisfy some outside influence doesn't sit well with me. I'm not Vulcan. I was angry then, but I had good reasons to be angry, and looking back, I'll say no, it's not right to curb a person's anger because it's inconvenient. Self-soothing works great on panic, but anger? Anger is what you're supposed to turn outward so you stop hating yourself and wishing to die.

---

And yeah, while I'm at it, screw mindfulness. Screw burying the roots of what's wrong in order to live in the present, because I couldn't live in the present if I hadn't sussed out what made the present hurt. Screw viewing human beings dispassionately, especially ourselves. Screw cute acronyms (PLEASE MASTER? DEARMAN? Feminism?) and not judging life and not connecting all the dots that make up our stories. We are beautiful spiderwebs, made of so much more than now.

I haven't met the person yet who can just... let go of distress. Not without time. Not without a reason. I can do it now, but I'm many years away from what hurt me, and I have people in my life who aren't trying to perpetuate that hurt. I learned boundaries and I used those to throw out what I didn't want around me.

There's too much to untangle before one releases pain and stops feeling triggered. Linehan makes it sound a lot easier than it actually is. As a tool for survivors of other people's shit, no, DBT won't work as well because the focus is so very much on one's own shit. I was covered in shit, all right, and it wasn't all mine. Once it was down to being all mine, yeah, I could work on it, sort it, own it. But when it wasn't? Fuck owning that.

For the record, I now feel as if I could comfortably go back to the people who covered me in said shit and have a conversation with them. It ain't a DBT thing. I had to unlearn what they taught me about my worth as a human being (i.e. "HA") and the broader adherence to a certain set of norms and values (i.e. "You are not a WASP. Assimilate.") before I could see anything but rage when I pictured them. Now, when I dream of them, it's just a dream. Not a nightmare anymore.

---

tl;dr Linehan can suck it.

[lovefromgirl]

I have an incest problem.

It's not what you'd think. Unlike George Michael Bluth, I can leave my cousins well enough alone. No, it's more like... are any of you only children?

I don't know if anyone else does this, but since I lack siblings, I tend to adopt them into my world. Certain friendships feel like family. It works best when the other person is absolutely not relationship material, because friendship is also where I'd like to draw my mates from -- people I know and trust.

I'd like it, but I relegate so many people to sibling status that it feels wrong to contemplate them in any other way.

Under monogamous dating circumstances, this is not an issue. I can't very well be family with all of the single monos in the world, right? Poly takes a lot of people out of the pool without changing the ratio of compatible-to-incompatible. (Because no, polyamory doesn't mean we're good together in any way. Kind of like girls who like girls aren't automatically destined for coupledom, jokes about lesbians and moving vans be damned.) So I get these confusing vibes: this person might be open to poly, but I wouldn't date hir if you paid me because it's Just Wrong. Actually, there are second cousins in my family tree who would be less wrong to date, mostly because I don't know them very well and they feel very removed from what I consider "family".

This is why I haven't deleted my OKCupid profile. Way too many of the possible-poly-friendlies in my circle of friends are family and therefore out of the running. So I kind of have to meet strangers, make friends, and resolve not to count them as kin.

So annoying. So scary. I hate the process of getting to trust someone; I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, to get hurt. CdM is an exceptional man for putting up with what approaches paranoia. He's gone more than one extra mile reassuring me he's trustworthy. His track record as a partner to my metamour helps a lot. So does his ability to keep his word. So did, that first summer, his willingness to wait for the right time and place for *cough* certain tremendous changes to our relationship.

How do I do it all over again? How do I justify rejecting the safe possibilities because they're too safe?

...

So far, I've looked at guys for the most part. I'm not confident enough about girls. Women. I'm really not confident about older women (by which I mean "over thirty-five and established"). But... what if I get involved with a lady and find I'm actually terrible at being with a lady? I already know I can feel romantically for any gender. It's the sex part that intimidates me. It intimidates me thinking about it with anyone not CdM, honestly. Is that a good thing or a bad thing when it comes to branching out, gender-wise?

I still have a lot of myths to kick when it comes to sex drive. I keep thinking everyone else must be screwing like rabbits, and here I am, pottering along wanting it maybe once or twice a week. If I'm average, a lot of people are lying about their desires, or else I'm only seeing the very sexual people because those are the ones who put themselves forward. I would appreciate a relationship with a grey-A or asexual person. No pressure. Kisses and cuddles, sure, but I don't need more sex. I'm getting quite enough. I'm satisfied. If I find I'm not, isn't that why I have hands?

I have a lot of love to give. I don't know that I have enough body to go around.

[NovemberRain]

ummm, I just have to say, I think I just fell in love with you. :D Your last two posts are so fabulous, and I relate so much.

I'm not overly familiar with DBT, but have pretty much been in therapy of one sort or another since I was eight. I had a long hard road to make peace with my anger. When I finally got to therapy with my mom, they were questioning my memories. I yelled at her and the therapist that I hadn't come to therapy to have that questioned (I had come to see if there was any possibility of relationship with her) and if they were going down that road, we could just give it up. Next session, they both said they had feared I wouldn't show up again. I thought therapy was FOR feelings? Weirdos. I was fortunate to find more good groups than not, and more competent and loving people to help than not.

I was an only child until I was 13. My parents split and my dad took up with the woman who would become my step-ma, and my brother and sister were 8 and 2 at the time. I used to babysit them so our parents could date. I have kinda the opposite problem, in that I simply fall in love with all my friends. Once or twice a week would be like rabbits for me. I'm counting myself lucky at once a month. :P (and that's upped since I got an extra bf)

You go, grrl.

[lovefromgirl]

ummm, I just have to say, I think I just fell in love with you. :D Your last two posts are so fabulous, and I relate so much.

A smile for a Thursday morning. Thank you!

Finding the right therapy can take a lot of trial and error. So much goes into the relationship between therapist and client, and then you've got to be willing to keep going back -- it's hard work! The best fit I ever had was Ann at my community college. She struck the perfect balance, boundary-wise, which helped because she had to teach me about boundaries. :) She was also right there where I took classes, so I didn't have many excuses for missing sessions. Nope, not even extracurriculars.

I had a therapist try to convince me I'd been raped by a friend's dad because I have these vivid dreams about the act. It's possible, but we live in rape culture. A woman is always on her guard, always afraid. Always at risk. So is it any wonder I'd dream?

And a good clinician must be ready for the emotions, because you're right. At the heart of it, this is why we go. We need a doctor for our feelings, and a place for what comes out of those feelings (i.e. more feelings) to be accepted, not pushed down.

I was an only child until I was 13. My parents split and my dad took up with the woman who would become my step-ma, and my brother and sister were 8 and 2 at the time. I used to babysit them so our parents could date.

Awww, you sweetheart! I don't know that I could've got used to sharing my family after so long. Also, at 13, I'd just come off five years of being passed off on a woman who minded far too many children for far too much money. (No, sorry, it's not safe to pack ten people into a people-carrier that sits seven.) So I had issues around mattering to my parents, and they had issues of their own. God, we were dysfunctional.

...yes, darling, I hear you asking "Were?!"

[lovefromgirl]

Staff Robot, you surely know by now I don't like longhaired men and/or men with excessive, ill-groomed beardage.

The other guy apparently will never be comfortable farting around me, nor with me farting around him. Staff Robot, this is a painful state of affairs. I don't want a guy who'll let go gratuitously, but I don't want him writhing with pain because of a gas bubble, and I certainly won't do the same.

Also, cold sores are a hard limit for him and he thinks we came here from the stars. Well, thinking drug use is a romantic activity is a hard limit for ME.

So you've struck out yet again, meaning so have I. Well bloody done. Next time, less with the quirky?

No love
C

[nycindie]

Hiya. Been meaning to ask -- can you explain: what is an "agony aunt" and a "post-raph stunner?" I am unfamiliar with these terms and they have piqued my curiosity. Thanks!

[lovefromgirl]

Hiya. Been meaning to ask -- can you explain: what is an "agony aunt" and a "post-raph stunner?" I am unfamiliar with these terms and they have piqued my curiosity. Thanks!

An agony aunt is a giver of advice, usually in column form. It's British slang. Picked it up when I was a teenager reading a British teen magazine. God, I miss Sugar.

A post-Raph stunner is a play on words. The women who posed for the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood were known as "stunners". I'm a new breed of stunner. Different medium, similar looks, twenty-first century ideas.

[BrigidsDaughter]

I'm glad you've started a blog on here.

If I were looking to date, I wouldn't have the foggiest idea where to start. Runic Wolf thinks that these things come easily for me but I don't know the first thing about dating women; something I told Wendigo's wife when we were trying to have a relationship with her. Neither of us knew what we were doing and I learned from it, applied a bit of what I'd learned to Loveleigh for the couple of months that Runic Wolf was dating her, but she was his girlfriend and I didn't want to presume too much.

[lovefromgirl]

I've got no clue how to go about it. When I was a junior in high school, I had a long-distance girlfriend, but we met through fandom and all we did was text and write. (Texting in the shelves at work? Naughty. Texting your girlfriend when you work for a conservative? Wicked!) Okay, and chat. Point is, we never met, and I only saw one picture of her.

I wish we'd met after high school, because she lived in Syracuse. What a doddle compared to all the other online friendships I've had! But I drove her away because I was so fucked-up that year and I don't think she'd have tolerated the poly, anyhow. She ended up going to NYU and being some kind of fantastic while I burned out.

I miss the idea of her more than I miss her because I didn't know her that well, after all. It's been nearly ten years now. I can only remember her face, her first name, and her screen name. I could try again with a woman, I guess. At least now I'd have the brain chemistry under control and the whole poly-mono-girls-boys thing settled. (Poly. Both/all/any.) But I wouldn't be a kid anymore, dating like kids do. How do women date, as opposed to girls?

[BrigidsDaughter]

I'm not sure that it's too different. My experience is really limited, but other than the two women I dated being married mothers (like myself), dating wasn't too different from when I was a kid only the food was better and the movies were not kid friendly.

[NovemberRain]

A smile for a Thursday morning. Thank you!
So welcome. I always get a smile at your blog.

I had a therapist try to convince me I'd been raped by a friend's dad because I have these vivid dreams about the act. It's possible, but we live in rape culture. A woman is always on her guard, always afraid. Always at risk. So is it any wonder I'd dream?

I had one dream about my dad. It was so odd I've never forgotten. He was just about the only person that didn't molest me as a kid. No saint, him; but he went too far out of his way to ensure that was not a hurt I'd get from him. I saw an interesting videoblog the other day, of a woman ranting about rape culture. She was stunningly articulate.

Awww, you sweetheart! I don't know that I could've got used to sharing my family after so long.

Oh no, i didn't exactly volunteer. I was Cinderella though, so it was just one more thing put-upon me. I have still not adjusted to sharing him, and it's almost 40 years later.... Pathetic.

Stupid staff robot.

[lovefromgirl]

Today's gem from OKCupid is a five-word message reproduced verbatim below:

hello how are you today?

Oh, you poor sucker, whoever you are. You poor, ugly, practically illiterate sucker in search of an available uterus for the continuation of your line. You know nothing about me.

Punctuating my sentences correctly. And you?

There's a devil riding my shoulder today.

[CielDuMatin]

Punctuating my sentences correctly. And you? YOUCH! Love it!

[lovefromgirl]

I did come to feel bad for him. A raft of teachers and professors did him a disservice by permitting him to obtain any kind of diploma (if indeed he ever did). So I wrote, in reply to his second short missive:

Do you want me to proofread your entire profile, or just your messages?

Properly, it's "Hello. How are you today?" and "Yes, I think so. What did I do wrong?" The first was a classic run-on sentence, easily separated by a period and appropriate capitalization*. The second could also become "Yes, I think so; what did I do wrong?" because the two sentences are so closely related. I do love semi-colons; alas, I fear I overuse them. (You see?)

Permit me to recommend Lynne Truss on the matter.

As for the matter at hand: I am not sure why you contacted me in the first place, given that I am not a Bible-believing sort of person and disagree heartily with the Pope on the subject of a woman's obligation to breed until her uterus drops from her pelvis. I am pointedly opposed to bearing children of my own, for reasons I consider entirely valid. You would do well to ask a different woman how she is doing, because nothing will come of an association with me.

Anachronistically as ever
C.L.

* Or capitalisation; either is correct.

I'm a terrible snob regarding the English language. I'm terrible period with German, and I'm certain my French would give an actual Francophone fits; this is why I don't go a-courting in either of those languages! I keep it to English, and prefer a level of proficiency approaching mine in my partners.

...sometimes, yes, I sound like I've stepped out of a Victorian novel.

[lovefromgirl]

I couldn't do a "real" wedding, O Best Beloved. My prospective whoever would have to be able to do without the fuss and feathers. I can list... hang on, counting on fingers, actually listing names... no more than thirty. On my side, anyhow. Six are family-family, the women I want standing up with me are sisters-by-other-misters (and they'll be catching me if I decide to have a panic attack), and I'll have to hire a doctor/NP/PA for the day (since three of us counting self are just that creaky).

The fact of the polyamory would have to be kept on the DL, but a wedding to another person would likely be about the people in that particular tier of the relationship celebrating their bond. GalaGirl, you're catching. ;)

I don't know that I could find the traditional wedding gown that would flatter me. I'd want to incorporate color. I am writing my ideal outfit into the novels-in-progress -- sheer muslin tunic with bloused/cuffed sleeves over a lavender jersey gown, all belted under the bust, both sets of sleeves hitting at the elbow. Lavender silk slippers or white kid. (Sorry to all you vegans out there.) Hair down, veil extending from a "tiara" of lavender flowers lashed to a bit of some whitish metal. A certain three-ring necklace, so I might carry my darling and his darling with me the whole day.

Not sure what I'd have in my hands. I don't feel a traditional bouquet would do -- maybe a white rose surrounded by lavender sprigs and, to represent my other other spouse, a quill? (Because I married my writing years ago.)

It's good that I can't imagine what we would vow. I have no idea who zie would be. How can I say what would come to matter to us?

Rum cocktails only for booze option; we toast with non-alcoholic option or nothing at all. Breakfast-at-insert-non-breakfast-time here for food, vegan, omnivore, and gluten-free items available. BIG LABELS ON THOSE. Do not fancy guests collapsing in the middle of the dancing.

I've saved the music for last because music really is the food of love (play on!). Everyone I know has got great taste. I want my friend B's band to alternate with my DJ-inna-laptop, which is pretty much a playlist hooked up to great grand speakers. Requests taken prior to the day; if you're not sure I have it, give me a mix CD.

It's only a dream on paper, only because I'm watching David Tutera. I'm okay without it. I might like someday to have a party like this to celebrate the love between the lot of us and to hell with actually marrying! But formal, please, formal and fancy and gorgeous while we party.

[lovefromgirl]

I wince a lot at home.

There are things my family does that would never be tolerated in any other household. The one that set me to thinking about it was my mother randomly screaming up the stairs for me while I was listening to music -- I just made out the last syllable of my name.

As often as I have asked her to come UP the stairs and speak to me when there is music going, she never once has done it of her own accord. And why am I limiting it to "when there is music going", anyway? I wouldn't shout up or down the stairs to -- I have got to come up with a nickname for my metamour that isn't too trite. Help me, love? -- Well, I wouldn't shout for her. I'd go and find her. She would probably do me the same courtesy.

There are plenty of days when I wish I lived with my partner and my metamour. They're civilised, at least.

But for all the rudenesses around here, I also see kindnesses I couldn't have in their home that I get in mine. The very worst-case scenario for me is a panic attack I can't stop on my own. Doesn't happen too often anymore. Is still a frightening prospect. I can't wake them in the middle of the night looking for help. I could wake him, but I'd feel strange going into their room. I don't feel strange about waking my mother. People with healthier brains (and who grew up in functional families) probably see this as dead bizarre. Do bear with me while I muddle through THIS reality. I'd love not to need help. I'd love to move out on my own. Ain't happening.

I want boundaries in some areas and I need for the boundaries to stay down in others. I think I need professional help sorting this through.

[lovefromgirl]

. . . those unremarkable, undesired, unfathomably lazy little gym rats.

Hi..how r u doing today?

An hour ago, I might've answered, "Well, my family had a bit of a crisis, but it's on its way to resolution, and I'm relieved to have my car back so I can run errands."

But not today! It is now the twenty-first, and by God I haven't lectured anyone yet.

"Today" is fifty-two minutes old, though I see you sent yours with seven minutes to spare in yesterday. Yesterday was difficult. Today is, thus far, better.

Well, except for having to tell a grown boy of thirty to man up and use real words when he's addressing a potential date. Yes, even from a smartphone. Take the extra ten seconds and actually impress me, o generic manchild.

[CielDuMatin]

o generic manchild.Youch!

That's hot! :D:D:D

[SNeacail]

The one that set me to thinking about it was my mother randomly screaming up the stairs for me while I was listening to music -- I just made out the last syllable of my name.

This was normal in my house.:eek:

As often as I have asked her to come UP the stairs and speak to me when there is music going, she never once has done it of her own accord. And why am I limiting it to "when there is music going", anyway?

Who's house is it, who pays the majority of the rent/mortgage? If it's her house, her rules. Does she get mad that you don't hear her or does she call once, then come get you if she gets no response?

In my house, if the kids can't hear me calling down the hall (it's less than 20 feet), when their music is on, the music is TOO loud. End of Story. As I've gotten older, my ears have become increasingly more sensitive to loud noises (including music) and less able to hear softer volume stuff, especially if there is a lot of ambient noise (music in another room). It can get actually painful and bring on a severe headache. I've got the same rule in the car. If you can't hear an emergency siren (or any other noises outside your car), the music is TOO loud.

I wouldn't shout up or down the stairs to -- I have got to come up with a nickname for my metamour that isn't too trite. Help me, love? -- Well, I wouldn't shout for her. I'd go and find her. She would probably do me the same courtesy.

In your house you can make your own rules. A great deal depends on what people grew up doing or watching other people do.

I don't feel strange about waking my mother. People with healthier brains (and who grew up in functional families) probably see this as dead bizarre.

Not bizarre, natural. She's your MOM, that's what mom's are for :D. Remember, you have lived with your mom longer than anyone else, she's been there through all the yucky stuff. Now that I've been married 21 years, there's stuff I would wake my husband over, but not my mother.

[lovefromgirl]

Who's house is it, who pays the majority of the rent/mortgage? If it's her house, her rules. Does she get mad that you don't hear her or does she call once, then come get you if she gets no response?

The former. She keeps calling and calling, and because she does that for everything, I've no way of knowing whether it is a situation where she could come up and get me or whether she's trapped somewhere. It's not down the hall as often as it is up the stairs, around corners, etc. I wish they'd go back to banging on the ceiling with brooms and such to get my attention.

I should point out that the "our house, our rules/aw, crap, it's an adult now" dilemma has been ongoing in our family. I'm 26, and have lived out previously (for a semester, but hey) and attempted to find work, only to be sacked due to illness. If not for said illness, I think I'd have got through the weirdness of living out and been happily ensconced in a flat near CdM.

I am also not the one in the household who wakes up the sleeping people with her noise. I am, however, the one who goes downstairs to ask if that's Dad's computer or the neighbor making that noise. About the only time I commit a noise violation is bathtime, when I put the music on nice and loud and sing (it's therapeutic!). Always while people are awake and/or out of the house. Then it's truly a matter of "you must come and get me, and for goodness' sake knock".

If you can't hear an emergency siren (or any other noises outside your car), the music is TOO loud.

Oh, agreed. I need to be aware of my surroundings when I drive. Useful not only for sirens but, when one drives an aging car, telltale "Get me to the garage!" noises.

In your house you can make your own rules. A great deal depends on what people grew up doing or watching other people do.

Well, the shouting would've been impractical in my mother's house, given the divisions between sections -- it's an old German house with lots of plaster and heavy doors. What went on at Dad's I'm ill-inclined to ask. His norm involved beatings.

Point is, for me, that there are three of us. Adults. (So there are no minor children in the home who will feel slighted by different rules.) Our situation is neither my fault nor my choice. We've all got to get behind basic consideration of each other's needs, just like any other three adults who cohabit. Not, I realise, something many parents like to consider when they plan for their futures -- not something I wanted, either. But there you go. Sometimes life happens and we need to adapt.

[lovefromgirl]

Youch!

That's hot! :D:D:D

Apparently American English has no standard spellings. It's all about the meaning.

So I lobbed a few less-than-complimentary Britishisms at him and blocked him.

[SNeacail]

I should point out that the "our house, our rules/aw, crap, it's an adult now" dilemma has been ongoing in our family. I'm 26, and have lived out previously (for a semester, but hey) and attempted to find work, only to be sacked due to illness. If not for said illness, I think I'd have got through the weirdness of living out and been happily ensconced in a flat near CdM.

Yes, your an adult, living rent free or with a greatly cheaper rent than you could get elsewhere (or why else would you be living with mom). When your the one paying the house payment and supporting others, you will understand the "my house, my rules". I see all too often, adult children living rent free with mom and dad, and expect to be treated like a rent paying boarder, but with all the perks of living at home (free food, free rent, mom clean up, mom cooking, etc). It's hard to go back to living with your parents when you've gotten used to living on your own. When my brother moved back home when he lost his job (recently after his divorce), he too struggled with my parents desire to know his schedule. He was used to coming and going as he pleased. However, they had a right to know if he was having friends over to THEIR house or if they needed to call the cops because someone was opening the front door at 2am.

Maybe a different approach with your mom would work? "Mom, I know you don't want to climb the stairs, but if I don't respond when you first call up, it's almost guaranteed, I can't hear you. No amount of yelling will change that. Please don't make yourself hoarse by screaming, but come and knock on my door to get my attention." This is a habit and habits are hard to break. Keep reminding her, but don't let your irritation show. She's not doing this to purposely irritate you.

American English has no standard spellings

What fun would that be, especially for those that like to make up words (or we are trying to spell sounds) :p

[lovefromgirl]

Yes, your an adult, living rent free or with a greatly cheaper rent than you could get elsewhere (or why else would you be living with mom).

Were SSI more plentiful, and easier to get, I wouldn't be. ;) But I am trying to come 'round to your point of view and, from there, hers. Please be patient as I work through it!

I should begin by saying that I don't expect to support others for a long time to come. The only sensible way for me to be a parent is by adoption, and if it comes to that, adoption of an older child. I do pay the vet bills for the family pets; I pay my medical bills (they do pile up); if I add anything to the grocery bill, it's no more than $10 a week (which also piles up, yes).

I am capable of helping with chores provided I am doing them with someone else. My energy reserves, as far as physical activity goes, are lower than my parents', all things being equal. That said, I do try to get my dishes into the dishwasher, and I find I'm getting better with beds. I think what I need, in order to contribute on a housekeeping level, is an actual list of agreed-upon tasks. When something is my domain, I enjoy taking charge of it. I'm terrible at mopping and sweeping, but great with dishes. I'd like to resume my old one-load-a-day habit, laundry-wise, so if my parents would be willing, I could wash theirs with mine during the day. It's not so tough! Into the washer, into the dryer, folded and, if I can find a convenient place for it, ironed. I am going to learn how to darn holes; I already repair seams well by hand, and I look forward to trying out the slip stitch for certain hems.

I have been told not to interfere with the mail, so I take mine and leave the rest. I long to install a mail system of some kind for the household, even something as simple as baskets on a shelf.

When my brother moved back home when he lost his job (recently after his divorce), he too struggled with my parents desire to know his schedule. He was used to coming and going as he pleased. However, they had a right to know if he was having friends over to THEIR house or if they needed to call the cops because someone was opening the front door at 2am.

Oh, goodness, that is a reasonable desire on your parents' part. We have that sorted, at least. I wouldn't spring guests on roommates any more than I would my parents. We are still working out how to classify CdM after four years. ;) I say he's family, Mum still thinks of him as a guest. I wonder how she will treat her sister when she comes to stay in a year? That'll be interesting.

I also know that my parents do care for my safety. I don't go out much, but when I do, I understand that they get fearful. I will never stop being their child on some level. My phone is always on, except when I've been an idiot and let the battery run down, as I did overnight. Oh, dear. Setting that to charge now.

Maybe a different approach with your mom would work? "Mom, I know you don't want to climb the stairs, but if I don't respond when you first call up, it's almost guaranteed, I can't hear you. No amount of yelling will change that. Please don't make yourself hoarse by screaming, but come and knock on my door to get my attention." This is a habit and habits are hard to break. Keep reminding her, but don't let your irritation show. She's not doing this to purposely irritate you.

So noted. I'll try harder. :) They love me. I love them. Working out new dynamics is frustration itself; I need to remember the part about not irritating each other on purpose. Mum is not waking me because she wants me sleep-deprived. She's waking me because she likes news with her coffee, only the TV is weird and complicated. Things like that.

Note to self: make troubleshooting guide?

[lovefromgirl]

Yes, my fellow secondaries, it is possible to have cute domestic moments with your partner even when you have separate households. His shirts won't fix themselves.

Mind you, I'm old-fashioned about sewing. I believe we should know how to do it. Even my mother can manage a few basic stitches, and she claims the knack missed her -- passed from her aunt to her sister to me. Of course, she used to know how to knit, and I never could. Crochet's more my speed. One implement plus hands, thank you!

[SNeacail]

Note to self: make troubleshooting guide?

Great idea.

Mind you, I'm old-fashioned about sewing. I believe we should know how to do it. Even my mother can manage a few basic stitches, and she claims the knack missed her -- passed from her aunt to her sister to me. Of course, she used to know how to knit, and I never could. Crochet's more my speed. One implement plus hands, thank you!

Me too, but I knit and don't like to crochet :). I find this completely typical, you either do one or the other. Darning socks is easy, just takes patience. I don't bother with cotton socks I can get in bulk, but the boys expensive hiking socks most definitely. I find a "washable" sock yarn works best.

[lovefromgirl]

Me too, but I knit and don't like to crochet :). I find this completely typical, you either do one or the other. Darning socks is easy, just takes patience. I don't bother with cotton socks I can get in bulk, but the boys expensive hiking socks most definitely. I find a "washable" sock yarn works best.

From what I read, darning isn't much different from weaving, and I've been weaving on little cardboard looms since I was eight or nine. Am I far off the mark?

[SNeacail]

From what I read, darning isn't much different from weaving, and I've been weaving on little cardboard looms since I was eight or nine. Am I far off the mark?

Nope, that's basically what it is. Your patching the whole using a weaving pattern in the whole. I just googled how to do it, I think there are even Utube videos.

[lovefromgirl]

For someone whose primary is the English language, I really am terrible at autobiographical blurbs.

You can call me Cass. I'm 26, poly, one of CielDuMatin's partners, and quite happy with our vee. We met four years ago at my first-ever poly meetup. I did not go there looking for a partner. I swear I was just curious as to who was making this work and how. Then I sat down opposite CdM and my metamour, M. :) Our anniversary is a movable feast because neither of us wanted to go back and look up exact dates. I have a mind like a steel colander, you could say.

-- I am really not accustomed to saying much about us. We function. In terms of hierarchy, I'm the one who doesn't live with them, but what does that say about how much he loves me? Not a darn thing. He finds solace in me, and pleasure, and a great deal of companionship. I choose to let him into the mate-selection process because he sees things I don't. If he's not polysaturated, he's the nearest thing to it, and M is monogamous; combined with my pickiness, we are effectively closed.

I don't think much further than "what if?" right now. Aside from being poly, I am also a woman, a daughter of daughters, a student when my disability lets me indulge, maybe an employee next summer, and a person who writes fiction for kicks. Now that I am getting stronger, I can try playing my flute again. There is so much I care about that doesn't relate to being part of a relationship. I don't think I'd be a very good partner if I weren't so comfortable as me.

I give a lot of advice. I hit a lot of nerves. I plan to start soft-pedaling it when I have paying clients. ;) I know how to cut to the heart of a matter. I see it as an asset, not a liability. I've been ill-served by the gentle approach; I wouldn't do that to someone who needed to hear a few home truths. I am probably going to be the kind of social worker who kicks ass, takes names, attempts to fix the system, gets sacked, and strikes out on her own. I am okay with that. I was never one to sit down, shut up, and play nice unless I damn well pleased.

Have I missed anything?

[lovefromgirl]

Him:

hi I'm john. First of all, I think u are really very cute. I would realty like to get to know u and go from there. I'm a hard working, blue collar kind if guy. But I do well for my self. I have a cbr600rr and I ride it alot So how about we trade facebook info, or i could just text u. I'm lot a fan of just talking on here. I just want to meet a nice, fun, kick ass girl LOL. So we can chat and just see where it goes. Iv been on a big work out and diet kick as of late and iv lost 50lbs from my pics

Me:

No.

What the fuck is a cbr600rr when it's at home? And is this guy aware of the risks of endless tattooing? I mean, have you seen the MMWR articles lately about the skin infections resulting from tainted ink?

If that hadn't been syntax soup up there, maybe I'd have bothered. As it is, no. Not until my brain re-jellifies.

[dingedheart]

It's a motorcycle ....crotch rocket class.

[CielDuMatin]

Just your type - I can't for the life of me imagine why you didn't let him take you for a ride!

[lovefromgirl]

Not all of the random contacts are a bad thing.

Even though I seldom, if ever, meet dating material, sometimes I run into people who are genuinely nice and not looking to screw me in any sense of the word. One of those popped into my inbox last night.

True nice guys are all right by me. You don't need to be a ripped jerk. I don't care about "hot". Looks are so subjective when I take personality into account. I can look at two people who are similar, learn about them, and declare one much better-looking than the other. It works the other way, too. If you're average on the outside but shiny on the inside, you are way more jumpworthy than your prettier but shallower/douchier counterpart.

[lovefromgirl]

I am thinking of my metamour tonight.

M has gone to hospital. She will be all right, but she's stuck there for the weekend, it seems, and this was supposed to be their time to relax together. Both of them had unexpected time free from work obligations -- that's so rare for them. CdM has also had a shorter night's sleep thanks to, ah, me. (It's not what you think. He gets up very early in order to get to work from my place. Also, we were poking fun at my colloquial, learned-at-Oma's-knee German.)

(The best way to drift off to sleep is to laugh together.)

At least she has her ebooks and her music to keep her company, but I do wish they'd put her in a nice room with a cot for him. Even if she has been given the Good Drugs, they'd be together.

So this is the downside of compersion. When you share their joys, you also share their sorrows.

[lovefromgirl]

This is what it must be like to get high.

I never have before. Just a little drunk. I've never taken any substance that made me feel like opening my heart to the universe, nor any that made my blood fizz with energy.

It's all people-energy. It all comes from feeling like my best self, including having a great hair day, and sharing the good feeling with others. They respond! They respond by waving across several lanes of traffic (that was my UPS guy -- blew him a kiss -- he's got such gorgeous legs) or spending ten minutes just talking about languages with you (the lovely Moroccan gent in the sunglasses). They respond by letting you share their troubles and taking some of your joy back with them (Chibi and Theresa).

I'm a little frightened by the fizz. It's adrenaline. Adrenaline is bad, right? It makes me panic. But this is a surge of the stuff that I didn't allow out of my grasp. This is the kind of surge that came from natural human interactions. Rarely if ever does my extrovert nature overwhelm my introvert training in this way, but when it does, holy wow.

So I kept breathing. When I felt lightheaded with it, I made myself sit down and play a bit of Sudoku on my phone. I came home, I figured out that I was hungry, I ate something, and now I'm winding down for the evening. I had a good experience. I am congratulating myself on not letting the fizz tip me over the edge into anything dysphoric. This is how therapy works with meds to produce function. This is how I get my life back: one good day at a time.

. . .

M had as good a day as she could. She is fully wired now, with all of her gadgets at her fingertips, and she's got more than hospital gowns to wear. She still hurts, but not as badly as yesterday. She's happier. She's even getting the edible hospital food.

And she has CdM, who is the most loving darling man we could have asked for. He's there with and for her. Where else should he be? My heart, how could any woman begrudge such support to another? How could anyone ever think that he hasn't got enough love to go around when clearly he has?

. . .

This choice we made four years ago, to give it a try, has made me so happy. I love a man who values my freedom as much as I do, and feels the depth of my love without needing to possess me. Such men are rare in the world. Such women, too. Mum and I were talking, and she said, "Flirting is just flirting. It doesn't mean anything." And I told her there were a lot of people in the world who thought flirting was a threat to their relationship. Mum's monogamous and even she understands.

I don't want to be owned. If and/or when I join a household, I want to join it with the understanding that I am still my own entity. We are multiples of 100%, not fractions, unless we're the funny kind of fractions that divide out into more than 1. Do they even have a proper name?

I will not be owned. End of.

[lovefromgirl]

Nobody is completely without prejudice. This is mine.

I fucking hate how entwined the poly and kink communities have got. No, dammit, I'm only tiny on the outside; I have done the brain work and discovered I am fundamentally unsuited to being anything on the sub end of things. I could pro-domme under the right circumstances (read: for money, after considerable training) -- not sure who'd take me seriously, though. I mean, hello, 4'11" and hoistable. The closest I get is wanting a corset, and that's just not sexual to me.

I found myself wincing when a guy who'd caught my eye turned out to be experimenting with kink in his new configuration. Part of this is burning resentment against the catastrophe that was last winter, looking for a reason for my illness. Nice man with complications I might otherwise have handled well comes along. Nice man is not dating material while I have such pressing concerns. I've just come off a sort of annus horribilis, and now I'm looking around and there's just nobody, now. Not who understands that I've no desire to be part of a bloody leather arrangement. I am equal. You are equal. We. Are. Equal. Look, I write fiction if I want to explore weird power dynamics and it STILL comes out to "We are equal" in the end.

And since part of this damn disability shtick involves pain on many levels (muscles, joints, even nerves during really bad episodes), do you SEE me wanting to endure more? Or remotely getting off on it?

What is so passé about vanilla, I'd like to know?

So yeah, I'm disappointed and resentful and generally not happy that even the ordinary ones end up tangled in what is, in my area, not the healthiest bunch. Maybe I'd be more inclined to explore the fetish-fashion thing and model if I could see "healthy" in there anywhere. I feel unsafe even going to a meet-and-greet. I'm always wondering, "Who are you and what is your major malfunction?"

There is a great deal of malfunction in counter-culture. This is why it's laugh/cry whenever I see anyone claiming poly or kink are in any way enlightened, better, drama-free -- no. I've even pulled away from people who share elements of my spirituality because, to use imagery that makes sense to me, their yarn is hopelessly knotted. The only way to untangle those knots is to clip the good yarn free of the knots and retie it in such a way that it can still be used. I don't like to go into a situation wielding scissors, though. I prefer a skein with knots I can coax free, if there have to be knots. Mostly I prefer a skein that's not been tangled at all.

Counter me out of that. Sad as I am to lose the mutual interests, I'd have to be very carefully coaxed into certain groups by people I can trust, and remain surrounded and shielded by people I can trust. I had already had enough of adults behaving like children by the age of twenty-two. I did not wish, and do not wish, to go looking for massive repositories of them.

-- I'm discouraged today, obviously. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning. Or maybe I'll have more nightmares and wake up crying for my "sister" Alyx. Crapshoot.

[CielDuMatin]

No, dammit, I'm only tiny on the outside.I'll just start calling you "TARDIS-girl"!
:D

I have ranted many times about me being in the minority because I am "just poly" - I don't do SCA, am not Pagan, am not into Kink (in the traditional definition), don't really want anything that Swinging offers. Have no problem if others want that, but it really does seem like I am the rarity.

I have seen some pretty messed-up folks hiding their dysfunction under the guises of poly or kink (or both). The idea of actually having stable relationships *before* starting into things like this seems to escape them.

[lovefromgirl]

I feel bad when I have to explain to a nice person, for a second time (!), that we have fundamental incompatibilities. It's a letdown for both of us, though I'm strong enough not to try and get around the stuff that will never work. I accept what is. Others have a harder time.

But DADT is never an option for me, and I will not sequester my cats (where would I?!) because a lover doesn't like them.

So it goes.

[lovefromgirl]

We never loved in this life, and we probably won't, but we may in the next, and we do in my dreams.

This is enough to keep me happy: just the freedom to love, even if I never say so (again). And it is enough to keep me away except for the odd social occasion. But the joy I feel when I dream, and the energy that extends into my love for CdM, that amazes me. It reassures me that I'm not just looking to share a love. I'm looking to be shared as well.

I don't have to give you up to love him. I don't have to give him up to love you. I can make room in my heart for both loves.

. . .

On ethics, and why I'm being gentle this time:

I remember what it was like to learn hard lessons about privilege. My mother leaned so left she was Red and she advocated a woman's strength to the point of independence (she didn't have the language or the room for interdependence in her life). What she did not have was a grounding in the kind of concepts that the people I knew had studied. Nothing in my second-wave reading had ever taught me that, either. So I crashed and burned hard. I went through waves of my own.

Why should I do this?
Why shouldn't I do this? So reasonable!
Why should I be reasonable? I'm owed reason!
Don't we owe each other reason?
But I miss the old way of doing this!
But you're hurting others!
But I used to know how to do this!
And now I don't?
...no.

So learn.

I see this happening now.

I could have used kindness when it was happening to me.

I am going to try to show kindness now that I recognise the process in someone else.

Fight with me if you want to pick a fight. I know this poly thing pretty well by now. I've processed a lot of my shit and come to own it. Raise your hand if you never had shit to process! -- Why do I not see a room full of waving hands?

Learning how to do this at all is pretty daunting. Try to remember when it was you. In fact, look at your own damn triggers and examine whether you can even tackle the topic from a levelheaded place. I can't debate abortion rights; I can't stay calm, and my bias will always show. I have my reasons. Since I know how I'll react (i.e. RAAAAAGE) I don't get involved.

Then leave the teaching to the people who aren't going to RAAAAAGE.

[CielDuMatin]

In fact, look at your own damn triggers and examine whether you can even tackle the topic from a levelheaded place. I can't debate abortion rights; I can't stay calm, and my bias will always show. I have my reasons. Since I know how I'll react (i.e. RAAAAAGE) I don't get involved.

Then leave the teaching to the people who aren't going to RAAAAAGE.This is great. I have been guilty into falling into that anger place a few times, and I really have to stop before hitting the button that posts and think about whether what I am saying is really furthering the conversation or just the outpouring of my own stuff. Sometimes I do it better than others.

I think that a sure sign of maturity is the ability to do this most of the time.

[GalaGirl]

I have seen some pretty messed-up folks hiding their dysfunction under the guises of poly or kink (or both). The idea of actually having stable relationships *before* starting into things like this seems to escape them.

Yup. I've seen it too. And not just polyamory or kink. It boggles my mind when monoamorous people want to engage in a relationship with a partner and have done ZERO work on themselves.

The first tier or relationship in ALL relationship models, IMHO?

The one of (me <--> me).

How do I related me to myself? If I do not know my own self, if I avoid knowing my own self well, then how on Earth am I to articulate my wants, needs, and limits to another person in a monoship? To several others in a polyship? Good golly, in a BDSM kink scene?

In fact, look at your own damn triggers and examine whether you can even tackle the topic from a levelheaded place.

I've experience emotional flooding at times -- and it is not fun. I agree with CdM -- it is a sign of maturity/self control to recognize "Wait! I'm emotionally flooding now! I cannot continue this conversation in a useful way at this time. I'm checking out to self care, we can regroup when calmer."

And there we go right back to the (me <--> me) tier of relationship, no? ;)

Nobody is perfect all the time. But I think that being self-aware most of the time is a Good Thing and something to aspire to.

GG

[CielDuMatin]

I've experience emotional flooding at times -- and it is not fun. I agree with CdM -- it is a sign of maturity/self control to recognize "Wait! I'm emotionally flooding now! I cannot continue this conversation in a useful way at this time. I'm checking out to self care, we can regroup when calmer."I am getting to that point in a certain thread right now - since it has the danger of spilling into other threads, I will probably need to take a big step back for a while, until the tone changes to one that I can contribute to more effectively.

[lovefromgirl]

I've experience emotional flooding at times -- and it is not fun. I agree with CdM -- it is a sign of maturity/self control to recognize "Wait! I'm emotionally flooding now! I cannot continue this conversation in a useful way at this time. I'm checking out to self care, we can regroup when calmer."

And there we go right back to the (me <--> me) tier of relationship, no? ;)

Nobody is perfect all the time. But I think that being self-aware most of the time is a Good Thing and something to aspire to.

It's been a rough process. I'm looking back at my own behavior toward some people and thinking that I could have given them a little more benefit of the doubt, or backed away and just not gone there. But past is past, and I can't change it.

What I can do is learn from those who have been there and felt that. I appreciate having a term now for that overwhelmed feeling: "emotional flooding". Describes the feeling perfectly. It's like I'm treading water and I left my life vest on the Titanic; I will drown if I don't grab that floating ring. Or climb onto the giant frelling door sailing by, to keep with the theme. ;)

I feel also as if people are only going to know me now as "that woman who defended that misogynist". But I've been there, in my own way, and I can't regret the actions I took. I said what I felt, and if people decided to direct their ire at me, fine. I'll keep being what I consider sensible until I'm popular again or some such.

[GalaGirl]

"Emotional Flooding" -- you can Google it to find coping tips. It is a phrase I wish I had known in my early 20s because it would have given me a better handle on what I was feeling.

But how can you research and understand something that you do not know by name? When you only know you know.... something?

So much easier to find it when you know what it IS rather than finding it when you know what it is NOT.

GG

[lovefromgirl]

I'm watching Gordon Ramsay, right, and he's in the kitchen, so there's lots of dishes clinking and clanking.

Only the clinking continues into the commercials. Well, nobody's going to break in and load our dishwasher. Mum stayed home today.

. . .

They're teetering on the fence between divorce and staying together. It is no easier to watch when you are 26 than when you are 16 or 6. At least when you are 6, you don't know or wonder whether you'll have a roof over your head when all's said and done. Nobody expects you to be strong.

I tried to be strong. I fell on my face. I had a massive panic attack which sort of alerted them to the whole "cannot cope" part. Then I cried, finally, over the change to my happy-ish home. When I cry, it's a bloody torrent. I honk into my handkerchief and boaters on Canandaigua Lake look around for the foghorn.

Nobody's been entirely healthy physically, either. Mum got sick first, then Dad (his wasn't as miserable). I'm trying not to get it. I get flu, I can't move, and I have to be able to see Jessica at St Joseph's tomorrow. This appointment is the key to so many doors: to employment I can manage (love you, VESID), to disability payments, to a psychiatrist costing under $150/appointment. I miss this one and I'm screwed.

So I just won't miss it. Even if I'm drugged to the gills and come in with a piece of paper listing everything I need (in case I am incoherent), by God I'll see this woman and be damned to any flu.

. . .

About the most stable part of my life is the poly. We're living proof that poly/poly/mono works in a V formation. Sure, I'm secondary by practicalities, but love? No, I mean plenty to CdM, and M likes me well enough that her problems are only with the poly side of my existence. So if I'm dull, it's because we're fine.

We're the part that works.

[lovefromgirl]

There is, she says, a COLOSSAL FUCKING DIFFERENCE between poly and what's going on right now behind my mother's back.

It is NOT "don't ask, don't tell" if you DIDN'T ASK your original partner whether zie consented to that arrangement. Which she didn't.

A short thought? A short temper.

[CielDuMatin]

And you would think that some people had been on enough poly fora in the past to understand that, wouldn't you?

*hugs*

[lovefromgirl]

If you're the praying kind, please pray I can move forward through my family of origin's problems in a peaceful, calm manner. This is blowing me wide open to growth, but also to pain. I think they go together.

I'm happy with my therapist. I'm discovering support I didn't ever think I'd have. Of course CdM and M are always there (CdM literally by my side, tonight. Poor darling, he's dozing and trying to ice his back).

I wish I had a time machine so I could take all of GalaGirl's blog threads and show my parents good, sensible advice fourteen years ago, when they might have been able to save things. As it is, they've been broken for so long that there truly is no fixing the relationship. When we're good, we're very good... and when we're bad, we're a disaster. I'm mourning the family dynamic, odd as it sounds. It only worked some of the time, but when it worked, I felt so safe. Now I don't. I'm figuring out how to stand on my own two feet and, on bad pain days, my cane! But damn, I wasn't ready! I thought I had time. I lost so many years to the crazy and now...

...and now...

...I can only wonder what Christmas will look like this year. How odd.

[GalaGirl]

Aw... hang in there! *hug*

It is never easy when parents are having problems. Even as an adult child of theirs it is hard to watch. :(

My spouse and his siblings are adult children of divorce. While they don't need the parents like child children do -- a divorce still is felt and trickles across all family interactions -- weddings, bdays, grandkid things, etc. All the relationship dynamics change. It's like polymath only you'd call it familymath. The concept is still the same. The network of relationships takes dings on many tiers. Not just the breaking up couple link.

You will grieve. Try to do the self care you need to do for yourself and maintain your separate parent relationships how you need to be.

Will keep you in thoughts and prayers.

hugs again,
GG

[lovefromgirl]

Thanks ever so much, GG. You're right about the grieving. It comes on the heels of some pretty staggering losses (two family members, a close friend, and months of really good writing!) but the more I feel like I'm falling, the more spider-silk shoots out to grab me and anchor me in midair. I'm becoming the center of a web again, one that isn't my blood but loves me just as much.

I miss my dad so much. Now that they've decided to separate and divorce at some point, he's acting as if all the paperwork's gone through, except that when he's gone, he's not at his own apartment or anything. He's out partying. I hope it gets old fast, because I don't recognise this version of him, and I've seen a lot of versions! This one is kinda sad. He's 61 but he seems to think he's 21 again. Nothing against people having fun, but... moderation. Have more than a night or two chilling at home (whatever you call home) per week.

Maybe it's inevitable. His dad was a philanderer and his mother apparently had a husband already. Maybe there's something about us that makes this more likely. Were we all wired for non-monogamy in that line, from Ray and Dorothy on down? What would have happened to me if I hadn't figured myself out? In a decade or three, would I become my own father?

...now I'm curious about the family histories of poly folks!

[BrigidsDaughter]

I am sorry that you are going through this. My sister is not speaking to me right now because my parents finally got married in July and my mom took my father's last name. Mom had been unhappily married to my sister's father when I brought my parents together for my son's birthday 8 years ago; she left my step father and divorced him shortly there after; and it was very good for everyone except my sister because they had been holding onto a dead marriage for her sake. My sister is 20, but had only just moved out when they got married because she had gotten pregnant her senior year of high school. I can empathise with her pain, I truly can. Yet she won't speak to me because I "took mom away" from her.

[lovefromgirl]

Oof! Oh, that is a tricky situation. At least nobody is actively taking Dad from us but Dad. I too feel for your sister (chaos and then this?!) but if there's one thing I'm learning, it's that people have to be happy or a marriage is worthless to everyone it touches. Mostly I miss Dad being around, which I hope he will work out of his system soon enough! They're both turning into their own people, who they might have been had the marriage been healthy. They can't erase what the last thirty-four years have been, but they can try to move forward.

And are your parents happier now? :)

[BrigidsDaughter]

The crazy thing about it, is that I'm the oldest. My grandmother forced my parents to stop seeing each other by my first birthday and arranged for my mom to marry her best friend's son instead of my dad. Their marriage was 31 years overdue. Even my step dad and his new girlfriend were for it. My mom had started emotionally distancing herself from my step dad and was thinking about divorce when I was 10 when she accidentally got pregnant with my sister on our family vacation. She decided to stay for my sister and brothers. I grew up w/o my dad with a step dad who was emotionally abusive and sometimes physically abusive, but my sister was too young to remember that. What she remembers is her dad spoiling her trying to buy her love and her getting to stay with mom while I went to college, got married, and started my own family.

And yes, both my parents and my step dad and his new girlfriend are much happier now. My sister unfriended my parents on facebook and her dad when he took my parent's side. But she still talks to them, relies on them to watch my niece when her and her boyfriend or my nieces biological father are working. She likes my dad, lived with him and my mom for 2 years before they decided to get married, but it was the name change that hurt her the most I think.