So just lately theres been a fair few people letting me know that I’m considered selfish or a drama queen causing or feeding of the things which would even cause the dramallama shame. I’m twenty six not sixteen, but apparently my life choices mean that I’m not supposed to have any concept of responsibility or adulthood, well it has to be said I’d rather not be entirely grown-up and I’d like to give the next few conversations on moragages and house-ownership and how exactly we’re going to manage to get through this credit crunch a miss.
I won’t apologise for being myself and sure, I’ll wish that people paid more attention than they generally do when I say who I am. Maybe there’ll come a day when I admit defeat and that living as myself is just causing other people too much hassle and have to compromise, but that day isn’t here just because I have to live in the adult world. I get to decide what that life means (and frankly if I fill my room with ball pool balls then that’s my own business), sure, I can’t get a job for love nor money which I wasn’t expecting with all the little plans I had, on the other hand whenever people ask me that damned five year question I know what I want and I’m too ashamed to answer.
I want to be a writer more than ever. I loved teaching, my gods I loved teaching. I hated it too and I’ve not got the discipline for this country. I’ve thought now several times this year that maybe I could get this job and I could bring some money in and help out Foo before I really go for it as a writer. Nothing’s worked, there’s always some reason that someone else is better at what I’ve tried than I am.
I keep ending up taking the charity of men who like seeing me naked and I’m getting fed up of five years masturbating at web cams – sorry guys it has been fun and I’ve enjoyed most every minute of it but I’d like a real job. I’d like to get paid for my writing.
If anything makes me childish then it’s that. I desire to live my dreams and I’ll keep trying. The life that everyone else – when it comes right down to it – seems to want is not one that I’ve ever really desired for myself. Actually, that’s a lie. By the life I mean, settle down in a family group and raise children, maybe even have them. It’s funny, because I guess the sudden grasp of when I do desire such things has really brough home to me that poly isn’t just a label some guy from San Fran thrust on me as I was explaining my philosophy of life and sex to him.
When I’m happy and loved and comfortable and I feel stable, that’s when I start to think I could be a parent and that doesn’t happen when I’m in a couple. That happens when the Jellicle, My Gentleman Friend and I are debating matters Pagan over a pint in the bar. That happens when Lexy, FJ and I are curled in a dozy pile on the Jellicle’s sofa. That happens when FJ and M-i-L are kissing in my kitchen as the Jellicle is nicking a cake I just got out of the oven. There’s a sense of home, that causes conversations to happen, conversations that consolidate dreams, that make me feel settled within what my brain/body/soul/self says ‘yes’ to, thinks is home.
But my priority remains the same. I want to make it as a writer, preferably of fiction and I don’t want marriage, or kids in a situation that I don’t feel that same happiness as I do waking up in a house and having breakfast with a group of us. I’m poly, that’s a real part of who I am, same as I’m bi, same as I’m Mish. Maybe that’s the happiest I’m ever going to get the days and evenings and holidays with the Jellicle, FJ and Lexy, those hugs and conversations and all that love, with the Jellicle, FJ, Lexy and M-i-L, maybe that’s as close to what I’d consider perfect that I get to have. It’s closer to perfect happiness than I ever expected, I’m fairly sure that it’s more than I ever deserved.
Perhaps this makes me a child, maybe in a lot of people’s eyes the inability to feel as complete and at home within a couple as I do in a multi-person relationship counts as immaturity but I’ve no money for therapy and I wouldn’t want it. I’ve had those moments, and maybe they might come again, but even if they don’t I think I’ll stick to being myself and remembering them when I’m old and published.
Poly is about sharing love, it’s about love growing between multiple people and it feels so perfect when it’s right that I can hardly express it, and when it’s fucked it’s shitty as all hell… oh wait, I’ve heard that happens with monogamy too.
Am I writing this because I feel some sort of need to justify myself? Am I looking for a pat on the head and some sort of oh we understand now and we’ll stop bitching about you? Hardly. Those people who think such stupid things about me are going to keep right on doing that no matter what I write, they sure as hell don’t read this blog. Hell some sort of supreme being could descend from the sky announce I was absolutely perfect and should begin my ascention right there and some people would still hold I was some sort of energy sucking vampire. I’m just angry and venting, angry at people judging situations on half-truths and the most ridiculous rumours known to man. I mean, the fertility pills shit was at least vaguely funny (as well as hurtful as all hell) but I can’t believe how many people seem to regard adulthood as being the ultimate excuse for shutting their brains down and narrowing as many outlooks on life as they can find.
I was there with you. I was listening to everything you said. How many of you have decided you were mistaken or drunk or young? Wasn’t anyone expressing the truth or were you all just trying to be fashionable?
I’ll stick to loving and I’d much rather do that and be considered a child or hurtful than the alternative. At least I mean it.
The best writers never wanted to be writers.
They needed to be writers.
Need it. Get it.
I’m getting fed up of five years masturbating at web cams
Swap hands. It brings a whole new perspective and, after five years, lets you get feeling back in the usual hand.
Seriously though? Do what you want, providing it doesn’t impinge on anyone else’s what-they-want, and enjoy life. Don’t take criticisms of a way of life to heart if it isn’t hurting anyone. If the poly thing works for you, there’s only a few other people whose opinions matter, and they’re the ones you’re being poly with.
…and other such positive comments.
That’s my problem, I do need to be a writer, and while somethings taking me away from that I can’t seem to concentrate on anything else.
I can’t believe how many people seem to regard adulthood as being the ultimate excuse for shutting their brains down and narrowing as many outlooks on life as they can find.
See … here’s the thing. I class myself as an adult, but I’d like to think that this doesn’t automatically mean I’m ‘close-minded’. I think what happens to a majority of people when they grow up is that they pick a ‘path’ that’s right for them, or at least one that they’re going to follow. Having made that choice it’s difficult to picture yourself anywhere else in the world, and that goes for jobs and emotional situations too.
I was talking a while ago with some friends about the different between ‘understanding’ and ‘accepting’. One of my friends argued that you can’t have acceptance without understanding. I disagree with this.
For instance … take the poly situation you find yourself in, along with several of our mutual friends. I ‘accept’ that this is where you want to be, because I ‘accept’ that not everybody is going to follow to same path as me through life. I’ve made my choice (monogomy) but that doesn’t mean that I assume that everyone else has to follow my choice, or eventually ‘conform’ to my choice.
I find it hard to ‘understand’. Because I can’t picture myself in the same situation and honestly thing I would go slowly mad if I tried to do so, or tried to assume that position. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t ‘accept’ it.
I think a lot of people can’t ‘accept’ situations that they cannot visualise themselves taking an active part in. Hence why, even though it’s not an active choice in the same way as mono/polygamy lifestyles, some people have such a problem with homosexuality and bisexuality (‘I’d never do that, therefore it must be wrong’). But some people have at least managed to get to the point of thinking ‘well, I’d never do that, but they choose to and that’s ok’.
The trick is to make sure that you yourself are happy with the path you’ve chosen. You are, it’s clear, it radiates from you. If you spend all your time trying to justify your choice of existence to other people, that’s all you’ll ever have: existence. You deserve Life, you’re full of Life, and the moment when you realise that, like Archangel mentioned, the rest of the world’s opinions don’t matter one fucking little bit? – that’s when you’ll find a most stable form of peace.
You are most cordially welcome to come discuss the rest of this over tea. I feel like I’ve chipped the top of a iceburg here.
Finally experiencing poly on a small scale myself, I find it satisfying and inclusive. I like having people around me, and though I was content with two-someness, I do prefer poly, and I always have.
Doesn’t poly require a lot of responsibility for other people’s feelings, and the ability to make it work? Any relationship requires work, but poly takes things to a new level. You just have to work on it to make it work. 🙂
I don’t particularly have an opinion on anything you’ve said here, but I would like to say (not that you don’t know, but it seems like you could use a reminder) that being financially responsible and monogamy aren’t mutually exclusive, and nor does "being a grownup" automatically mean you have to start turning into a bitter, middle aged, Tory wanker.
Exactly, but I think that was her point, and I don’t think it was implied otherwise: that just because one is now a grown up one does not suddenly have to renounce all paths not taken as immature and unsuitable.
Aye, them pagan debates in the bar mean a lot to me!
And as for long-term relationships, they all need the same thing: the ability to be open, honest and relaxed with the other person (or people) involved.
Re: Jonno
It was an interesting choice of wording on Mish’s part, that’s all. I’m fairly certain that I read it in an entirely different way to which it was intended, but in the context of the rest of this blog entry it has several different possible meanings. I’d explain further but I’ve tried to start a sentance three times now and no matter how hard I try I can’t word it without talking about Mish and this post as if it’s a subject I’m observing, rather than a friend who’s hurting, and it seems rather rude.