lovefromgirl
New member
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?
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?