I've been thinking a lot lately about
relationships. All of them, really, but mostly the romantic kind.
I've been single since somewhere around August of 2014 and I've been
so by choice after taking a good hard look at my pattern of serial
monogamy so far in my adult life. Well, really since coming out as
gay. My straight life didn't work because I wasn't straight. Go
figure. But since coming out as gay and since my first girlfriend,
I've been in a pattern of serial monogamy. One relationship after
another with little time in between to recover or learn any sort of
big lessons about myself. So this period of being single has been an
incredible growth period for me all around.
I've learned so much about myself and
who I am now as a person. I feel more solid and confident in myself
than I ever have before. I've forgiven myself for the mistakes I've
made in the past and feel like I've learned some really hard lessons
from those mistakes. I am much more aware of myself, my thoughts and
actions and so much more focused on being real and open with myself
and those around me. Real, vulnerable and authentic.
I've also come to accept and embrace
the introverted, autonomous part of myself and have finally come to
realize that I'm not broken. I'm also at times an extrovert and have
embraced that aspect of myself. Really, I'd like to discard the terms
“introvert” and “extrovert” altogether because they are so
very binary and black and white. I prefer the term a good friend of
mine used just a few days ago during one of our conversations around
this subject: ambivert. I am an ambivert. Depending on the day or the
situation I move along the spectrum of introvert and extrovert. I'm
very rarely all the way on one end or the other. Sometimes I recharge
around people. Sometimes I recharge in solitude. Ambivert. I love it.
I'm claiming it.
A lot of my life has been spent as an
observer. I've always been curious about people in the world and how
they relate to others. I've watched countless friends and family
members move in and out of romantic relationships, as well as myself,
of course. For me, each one brought its own lessons, its own gifts.
I've learned along the way that I loved too intensely, I wasn't butch
enough, I was the love of someone's life but something else was more
important, I got lost in my partners (and their lives) and I wasn't
real or honest enough with myself or my partners. All very true and
valid lessons that I will always carry with me. Plus, the one common
denominator in all of those relationships was me. Not that they all
failed only because of me (some did yes, but not all) but I was the
common denominator through all of them.
I've finally come to realize that, for
me, monogamy feels like a whole lot of pressure. It feels heavy and
it also feels completely unrealistic to me. We couple up with these
expectations of marriage and a house and kids and the white picket
fence or something else that society has built for us and pressure
ourselves to constantly run after those goals, if you want to call
them that. Not everyone wants those things, of course. But, we also
seem to want to fit each other into these roles where we pretend like
we're not attracted to anyone else on the planet but our partner. Or,
we feel that we can't have a close, intimate bond with anyone but our
partner because we're part of a couple. Or, we profess our undying
love one moment and the next we've fallen out of love. I've seen it
happen over and over and over and over again. Not only with the
people I know and love but with me. Why have I tried so hard to make
something that seems so unrealistic to me work? (I say “we” in
a lot of this paragraph. That “we” meaning the people who this
sort of stuff doesn't work for. It isn't a generalization about all
humans.)
I am a human being who is constantly
growing and changing. I was in that space where I wanted to find “the
one” that I could marry and grow old with. Someone to be my
everything and who wanted me to be their everything. But, now I find
myself in this space where that feels completely illogical,
unrealistic, unauthentic and, frankly, terrifying.
I've spent time these past couple of
years either trying to figure out how I wanted a relationship to look
or how to just completely stay out of them. When I thought about how
I wanted it to look, what I wanted didn't seem like a possibility
within a typical monogamous relationship. I don't want to be
someone's everything. I want to be their something and I want to be
special to them but not their everything. That absolutely terrifies
me and feels like a ton of weight that I just am not interested in
carrying. Also, I want to keep a sense of autonomy within a
relationship. As in having our own bedrooms if we live together or I
would also be perfectly happy not living together. I still want my
tiny home, piece of property and dogs. Whether in a relationship or
not they are what make me happy and they are important to me.
Even just in explaining those basic
things one can see that I don't want a traditional monogamous
relationship.
Up until just a few months ago I
believed that I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of polyamorous
relationships. They clashed with my idea of what love was. How could
you 1) love more than one person at a time (in the sense that I knew
love, aka “I give you my whole heart”) and 2) share those people
with other people without feeling like they were taking something
away from their relationship with you? But, as I've explored and read
and chatted with friends who are experiencing or have experienced
polyamory, I've learned that there are different ways of being poly.
I also know that there isn't a set amount of love that we can share
and feel. When done with respect, understanding, compassion, honesty
and openness polyamory can be an amazingly loving experience where
love grows.
I've also learned that there are others
like me in the world who want to keep their autonomy within their
relationships and don't want to be one person's everything and guess
what? They have successful relationships. They're also very real
about relationships being a temporary thing. Something we come
together to experience, to make a connection, to learn and grow with
and sometimes they end and it's not a bad or terrible thing. It just
is. They recognize their own humanness and embrace and accept it.
Some more fully than others, but still. They go into a relationship
without the goal of coupling up, shacking up and struggling to live
“happily every after”.
Of course, there are plenty of people
in the world for whom monogamy works and lasts. I'm not saying that
isn't true. What I am saying is that it's not true for me. Have I
“given up” on the fairy tale? No. I just have a much more
authentic to me realistic tale.
What's most exciting to me about this
realization is that I went from feeling like I was completely shut
down and walled off from love and romance to feeling completely open
to the possibility of it happening again in my life. Of course,
whether or not a relationship does happen again for me remains to be
seen, but it feels so good to be open to it. My heart is open, I am
confident in myself and who I am, and I am open to more growth and
learning. It feels incredibly freeing and really fucking fantastic.
Also, if it doesn't happen, I'll still
be happy with me. I have an amazing family and a couple of close
friends who fill my life with so much love.

Happy coming out day! And welcome, and I love you, and all the things.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I love you! Thank you for being you and sharing yourself with me.
DeleteAhh you sound so content. I would give so much to be in that place where you are at right now. Sometime we get ourselves into those places we can't find ways out of, but are so happy for others who have found their way to the other side. You are where I think we are meant to be (at our age)...and at peace <3
ReplyDeleteThank you. I am incredibly content, it's true. It's a challenge to get here, for sure. Thank you for being happy for me. Strength and peace to you.
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