I created an intro thread here
if anyone wanted to see how that went. I wanted to a blog journal document thing about how I came to poly and how the heck I going to continue being a poly relationship.
The thing I know is that I would not be able to handle any relationship without the supreme example of love and commitment my parents were able to demonstrate (and still continue to demonstrate) during my life. My parents love each other to the exclusion of all others, including their children. Financial hard times, a child born severely autistic, sickness, obesity, stress stress stress...through it all I have seen my parents love each other never ever in doubt that they were meant to be together. I have more than enough reasons not to be happy about my childhood, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. By the example my parents lead I learned how to love.
I try to do better though. I want to love my lovers, not to the exclusion of the world, but to better it. That I can spoil my lovers with time or presents and still have room for friends or to help planet Earth even in a little way. I want to be a better person for myself, because that helps my lovers. In a way my parent's love was very selfish. They fulfilled each other in a way I have rarely been privileged to see, but I am living that track of fullfillment myself. With them as my model for how a relationship can work I have only ever emulated that in my romantic pursuits. Yet I don't want the selfish component to be part of my life.
So, some history. Though I had a fantastic model for heteromonogamy, I never actually accounted that my love life would take that path. Both of my parents had been married before I and my younger sibling came into the world. I have an older sister from my mother's first marriage. My parents never said much, and I never asked much, about their first marriages. I knew they both left their own respective marriages because they did not/could not love their spouse anymore. My home community was small (>500 population ), all white from what I knew, and probably 99.9% Christian.
I could see my parents, every day, a perfect example of what the white Christian God expects a married couple to be...except they were both divorced. My parents only took me to Church until I was 7. But I didn't need to be at Church to know the message of what is or isn't acceptable Christian behavior...the air was thick with it. And I know many people looked at me as just a bastard from a second marriage. There has never been a point in my life where I believed the stereotypes of life. I had my doubts about them and about the example my parents gave. Maybe they got lucky? Maybe I could never find someone to truly love?
My child's mind left no possibility as unpluasible. The extremely white Christian overtones had an effect on me, sure, but never completely. Not even close. I wondered what if my true love lived in the Phillipines? What if my true love lived and died 1,000 years ago? What if I married a guy and a girl? I actually remember asking some Girl Scout mother of a girl in my school if I could grow up and marry a guy and a girl when I was about 8 y.o. She snapped at me, she blew up, I was not prepared for the bout of homophobia she spewed. Then she told me I need to go to school, meet a nice boy
, then he
will propose, then I marry him
and take his
last name, and join his
family, and bear his
children. I am still scared of marriage thanks to that experience!
to be continued...