Commitment, what?

It’s difficult not to feel like you’re more invested in something when the other person is busier than you are. I’m feeling decidedly insecure at the moment based on the fact that I’m communicating with the Catalyst a whole lot more than I’m hearing from him, and although he assures me that it’s all in my head, and that he’s just busy, it’s still difficult to wrap my brain around the idea that he’s too busy to send me a text when he wakes up in the morning or just a quick hello email.

Insecurity is a funny thing. I can see why there are so many people out there who avoid relationship commitment for fear of investing too much of themselves into something uncertain. While certainty certainly isn’t something that one can expect from any relationship — even those that seem like they are often aren’t — there is a certain degree of security that one wishes to have with a partner and when it isn’t present it can easily turn a person into an emotional wreck. This can be emphasised by distance, or miscommunication, or being too busy to communicate properly, or whatever else, but with people’s propensities to live inside their own heads and analyse minute details, it’s unfortunately difficult to avoid.

I hate feeling out of control. I hate not being able to just switch a feeling off if it doesn’t make sense to me. I can’t do that right now, and I know that I need to learn to accept the fact that I can’t and won’t always be in control of my emotions, but it’s especially difficult when I know that the only way I could gain absolute control over my life again would be to let go of this relationship. I don’t want to do that. But there’s this part of me that won’t stop obsessing over details, won’t stop reminding me that he’s off doing something that I can’t be a part of, and that more than any of the other things, he’s not paying as much attention to me as he used to, he’s not chasing me any more, not assuring me that he wants to wait for me and that we can make this thing work. AND IT’S KILLING ME!

Not to be dramatic or anything.

And then there’s the possibility that maybe I just do have too much time on my hands, and perhaps when I start doing all of my things again, and am back in Montreal running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I’ll just be cool with only hearing from him a little and become more confident in the idea that he loves me and doesn’t have time to text me or chat with me like he did when everything was heating up.

I met up with my bro and some of his boys last night at a little bar in Kensington Market. Barbs was there, and having not seen one another since watching the rugby world cup, there was the little exchange of “I hears” and “reallys” about our states of singledom/coupledom. We both ended long term, cohabitational relationships at the same time. He hasn’t seen his ex since he moved all of his stuff out. He obviously asked about the Big Love. He also sounded a little surprised that things continue to progress between Dom and myself — which he knew about as my brother had given the boys a mini-summary of my whereabouts. He made a comment about the rebound relationship, which I defended myself against. I don’t think you can call the relationship that ends another one a rebound. Can you? But whatever…it’s not important. I think I just need to stop thinking about this so much.

I went to see Juno with mum yesterday. Hilarious. Absolutely friggin’ spectacularly brilliantly funny. The dialogue is amazing. There were so many perfect lines, perfect little moments. And the acting was great, as was the music. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed really hard at a movie in the theatre, and the characters were all so well developed and believable. I just really appreciated going to see a movie that didn’t have a Disney ending, that was about something that nobody really talks about and was hilariously dry and even slightly twisted at times. Way to go Mr Director. (Mr Director is Jason Reitman, by the way. He also did Thank You for Smoking, another film that I enjoyed thoroughly).

I suppose it’s that time of day to get up and shower and pack up my giant Christmas stash and shopping spree items (I went a little nuts and replenished my wardrobe in the past week. It’s tough when the sales are so good). I can’t believe that I’m going back to Montreal already, but I am ready for it. I’m excited to get the Catalyst’s bed into my place so that I no longer have to sleep on couches. But patience is a virtue, and I’m not going to bust my ass to do it before Monday. Or Tuesday… or maybe Wednesday. We’ll see…

Are you bored with me yet? Is this too self-indulgent? Haha… the best part is that I don’t think anyone really reads it.

Published in: on December 28, 2007 at 3:31 pm Comments (1)

Post -mas

It’s coming to the end of the family time for Turbo Pixie. Aaaw…it is really nice to be home. I appreciate it all the more thinking about the fact that there are people who want to be home for Christmas but can’t be. It makes me feel lucky to think that I’ve only had one parent-less Christmas and that’s because the folks were off cruising in the Caribbean, celebrating 30 years of marriage. I think that perhaps makes us a little exceptional.

It’s also a time that’s a little tough because of all of the long-distance catching up that necessitates a description of one’s year. I’ve had a few surprised emails from good friends on the other side of the globe. It’s not very helpful having someone email you from Nigeria and question the recent life changes you have made in disbelief that you could have been uphappy. Which I was. And in denial. Which I’ve been though over and over and over in my head, especially now that I have to explain everything to everyone. My mother wanted to put my relationship status in her Christmas letter, for God’s sake. I put a stop to that swiftly.

I had a really awesome lunch with Hot Smart Girl, who I continue to adore as much as I did when I first met her  years ago. My relationship with that girl is just proof of how fantastic it is to have chemistry with someone: what happens when you love and respect someone on emotional, intellectual and physical levels. It’s a wonderful thing having a friend like that. So she was ass-kickingly honest with me today. I so respect her honesty, and it was nice to open up to someone and talk about how I’ve been feeling after the past few weeks of living inside my own head. It makes me realise why I enjoy talking to different people all the time. I have such a ridiculous tendency to overthink everything, that if I simply stay alone inside my head, I eventually drive myself crazy. It’s really helpful to get other people’s ideas floating around as a sort of balance and buffer for my own. But only as long as they don’t dominate mine (which is what has and does happen from time to time).

I am feeling really positive about my life right at this moment. It really blows that the Catalyst and I are so far away from one another but I’ve come to the conclusion that all I can do is accept it, accept the fact that I have no control over what happens with us, and make sure that we both continue to make one another happy. Otherwise, what is this for? There’s no point in having a long distance relationship with someone if you don’t make one another happy. That would just be foolish. The most important thing to do now is for me to stop being psychotic and just be happy that somebody loves me, and that I love that someone too and not worry about the other little details.

My life is just about to get really busy. I am so very excited for EmoBoy to move in with me. Our apartment will be undeniably awesome. There will be parties before things heat up at school. Perhaps an alter-ego dress-up party. Or dress as a super-hero version of yourself. Hmm…not important.

The bare bones of 2008: Yoga teaching course + yoga every morning. Coda club (2x per week?). Journalism, screenwriting, sound production and media theory. Catherine and digital costume design. Climbing.

And time for a social life? Please? Maybe? Probably not…?

Lots of cold and snow will make it all a lot easier. Huzzah. Back to turbo mode makes life more exciting. Maybe I should even go back to pottery to throw more excitement into the pot.

I’m going to meet a dancer friend tonight. I’m excited to see her, and curious to see if there are any other dance majors who are around and will meet up with us. It’s been so very long since I’ve seen any of those girls. There is a lot to catch up on since high school. It’s going to be quite interesting — especially if it’s just the two of us. I always really liked her. She was always so cynical but so sharp. Even at fifteen.

My dad gave me a subscription to Harper’s Magazine. Harper’s was actually my brother’s suggestion, but a excellent one. I’ve been lapping up the articles. It’s extraordinarily well-written, well put together, beautifully balanced. Academics who aren’t disappearing up anyone’s rear orifices. I can’t believe that I hadn’t read it before. It’s especially interesting to be challenging my mental capacity while on holiday. I haven’t read such a broad collection of views in a good while (since I used to take more that just English classes at university, in fact). I can’t wait to be reading these on the metro on the way to school in the mornings. Delight.

I have to acknowledge that I’m babbling. I apologise: I’m a little bit stoned and consequently being wordy and tangential. I’ll stop now.

Published in: on December 27, 2007 at 12:10 am Comments (0)

Family festivities

It’s family time! It seems perhaps counterintuitive to some that I’m sitting at a computer writing on my blog when I’m in the backwoods of upstate New York, but as it happens both my brother and my dad brought their laptops along for our little weekend retreat, plus Ellicottville, the little village we’re staying in, has a wireless network. I guess all of the skiiers who frequent Holiday Valley and the folks who live here all the time like being connected. Who’d have thought?

Yesterday was a day of silliness. As it always is when you put the four of us together, there is much hilarity, teasing, heckling, borderline annoyance, and plenty of alcohol. Fred (I don’t call my dad “dad” for some reason; when I was about six I decided that Fred was an excellent name, and have used it interchangeably with “daddy” ever since…well, that or Ferdinand if I’m in a sillymood), decided when we got down to the house that we shouldn’t wait around in the house for it to heat up, we should rather go to the pub. Hence, at 12:30pm on a Saturday, we headed down to the E’Ville Brewers Company and tried out their beer taster. Ten samples later, and a drink or two more per person (plus some AMAZING Brewer’s Fries. Attention Quebec Residents: if you think poutine is good, imagine this. It’s like poutine except with pulled pork generously layered over the fries, a touch of barbecue sauce and smothered in melted cheddar cheese. Sour cream accompanied it too. Mmmmm… so greasily delicious!), we were all ready to go in the afternoon of family bonding.

So back at the house, mum got annoyed because she forgot her books and blamed everyone else, and Rich discovered that the televisions didn’t work so he couldn’t watch football and Fred started reading my book while I placated mum by reading her tarot cards, and then Rich got a work-related phone call, and mum napped and I napped and then Fred said RIGHT! It’s time for some caesars.

So the drinking resumed! Apparently I’m a wuss (according to mother) because I couldn’t handle the spiciness of the caesars, which turned out to be the spiciness of the nacho dip, which made me shake and sweat but it tasted so good that I had to keep eating it. My bro had by this time figured out that there was good wireless and played us a bunch of Patton Oswalt’s comedy which had us all giggling up a storm. And then the game-playing began. Scrabble (the precise set that has accompanied us on every holiday since the beginning of time) was pulled out. And I, very surprisingly and happily (and drunkenly) managed to pull a seven letter word out of my ass on the very first go! FOMENTS (def’n: to promote the growth or development of : rouse, incite <foment a rebellion&gt ;) . Who’d have ever thought. (Heckling from family: “Okay, we’re done.” “I don’t want to play anymore.” Whining from TP: “But I never win!”). It continued on to be an extremely drunken (much vodka consumed by all) and silly and heckling-filled afternoon. Lots of insulting and prodding and Heller-style scrabble-playing. Then we played a quick game of pass the pigs, which is so ridiculous that we realised why we haven’t played it in about ten years. By this time, I was pretty soused, being teased by Rich for my interminable snacking, and the decision was made to head back to the Brew Pub for dinner. Dinner was much the same family style: heckling accompanied by discussion of the general goings-on in all of our lives plus excessive quantities of food (American sized quantities) and more teasing. I love my family.

It’s wonderful. I’m glad that I have a family that interminably heckles each other. There’s nothing like some good teasing to bring out the love. Although we have literally done nothing constructive (i.e. decisions against skiing due to warm weather and rain; decision to drive rather than walk to dinner because my brother wasn’t drinking). Bro and dad watched Balls of Fire and I went to bed, thinking about the Catalyst, trying to read my book (unsuccessfully), realising that I had eaten way too much and was in for a rather uncomfortable night’s sleep. He texted me around midnight which made me really happy and eventually I did fall asleep, although it was a very restless night.

This morning when I woke up, I felt like it should be Christmas.

Published in: on December 23, 2007 at 2:44 pm Comments (0)

Views: over and around

I’m back in Montreal and haven’t stepped outside of the house all day. People outside are wearing scarves and hats and gloves and on the radio they told me that it’s around 5′C. That means it’s warm because it’s above zero. I’m a little unimpressed. Oh Canada.

My parents’ house is like a vacuum. It’s as though every time I come home I get stuck in here without any hope of outside exposure for at least the first 24 hours. I don’t know how it happens, but it does. I don’t want to stay inside all day, but here I am, a repeat offender, doing exactly what I did the last time I was home, and the time before that…

I don’t even listen to music. I’ve had the radio on all day, which at least makes me feel like I’m not completely alone, but the CBC is telling me all sorts of things that I don’t really care to know about like the fact that there’s controversy over a Poag’s song and that today is supposed to be the busiest shopping day of the year and all the trains to Montreal have been fully booked. Joy to the world.

I uploaded hundreds of photographs on facebook this afternoon and tagged the Catalyst in 38 of them. I didn’t even post all of the pictures I took of him. Maybe I should untag some of them so that I don’t look like such a photographic stalker. Then again, I was on holiday and sleeping with him and spent two weeks officially being his girlfriend (which is funny considering that neither of us had really used any sort of terminology like that prior to my arrival). He’s my man. That’s how I like it. Mmm….

The trip was incredible and life-changing for many reasons. Obviously sunshine and sea and alcohol and loving are an amazing combination. But also time off and finding an equilibrium and thinking about important things — and being called on being a snooty flirtatious self-centred academic snob by the man you’re in love with — make for very balancing (enriching?) times. (Yes, I admit to all of those things. And yes, acceptance is the first step to facing a problem. I do not want to be a self-involved snooty flirt. I want to be myself minus those unattractive attributes.)

Did anyone ever tell you that long distance relationships are easy?

The visit, for instance. You wait weeks, sometimes months to see the person you’re so in love with that they’re worth waiting for, worth the energy put into keeping it going with all those thousands of kilometres between you. You wait all of this time and then the day arrives when you leave for the airport and spend an agonizing day of check-ins and waiting and stop-overs and delays and flying. And then you arrive. You’re disgusting and smelly and tired and feel sort of ill from the nasty airport and plane food. And then you walk outside and you see him. He’s sitting there surrounded by bougainvillea and other tropical flowers and has a red hibiscus that he tucks behind your ear as he kisses you hello and you grin because you know that it’s all worth the waiting and the agonizing and the miscommunications caused by the internet and chatting and misread text messages because there you are together and you have two whole weeks of basking in the sunshine of one another’s presence.

And he takes you to the beach and you have trouble reconciling the warmth of the ocean with the foot of snow you trudged through to get to the airport at home, and you’re sort of dazed and want to grab hold of him and touch him and pull him into you but there are old English tourists all along the beach and no little private shady spots where you could slip away to, so you float on his surfboard and kiss and gaze at one another and all the while you can’t quite believe that you’re there and all you want is to touch him and you’re happy and excited and don’t quite know what to do with yourself.

And then he surfs and you’re happy that he has time to do what he loves so you lie on the beach and read about tarot and the Aguero Sisters and relax in the sunshine and envision all of the things that you want to do to him. And the day goes on and you meet some of his friends and he surfs again and you have a few drinks and some dinner and then a few more drinks with some more of his friends and then you’re walking back (due to lack of taxis) to the guest house that his friend has so graciously offered and he teasingly asks you why you’re so snooty around British people and it cuts you deep inside and you don’t know what to say because he’s right but you just wanted to have a nice time and now you’re self-conscious and don’t know that he really wants you there and all you wanted was to go back and make love to him and now you feel like you’re lacking and you don’t know what to do or say because you know that he doesn’t hate you for it but the disappointment is tantamount to the rejection you felt as a child for being precocious and consequently undesirable, which you feel you still are but in the adult version which translates as snooty.

(Two weeks later, with a whole lot of thought, I not only accept that I am snooty, but am willing to giggle a little at it. On the first night, it was the worst word in the universe and cut through me like a freshly sharpened kitchen knife.)

But you get past that little episode and he tells you that he loves you and you make love and feel connected and happy to be there with him. And you get to the island and to the yacht club where he works and you meet everyone and feel insecure about all of these people who seem to know each other so well and you’re trying to be yourself and relax and have fun, but then you do what you always seem to do that gets you in trouble, you get drunk and flirt with someone who like you has spent too much time reading books and you talk about Foucault (who even more pretentiously in on your tee-shirt) and get really into your discussions and apparently your body language is saying things that you didn’t realise because you get told off for being a flirt when all you wanted was to fit in and have something to talk to someone about and you feel like a naughty child who has been scolded for being bad although you thought you were being good. You can still feel that disappointment and that horrible sense of being a disappointment and you retreat even further into you own head and spend a whole lot more time wondering if he really wants you to be there.

But no one said that it would be easy to hop into his life and be okay. He isn’t on holiday and has a job and a life and other things to think about and you…all you have is him and your thoughts which you get lost in and consequently spend too much time analysing every little thing he does and worrying that he doesn’t want you and although he teases you about being a nympho, it worries you that he thinks that you’re some sort of sex fiend (because you are, but that’s only because you want him so badly) and you’ve never been with anyone who has rebuffed your advances which makes you feel even more insecure. The funny part is that when you finally talk about it and start to actually relax everything comes easier and you realise that you have been spoiled in your life by people always letting you have your way and now that there’s someone who won’t give you everything you want all of the time it makes you feel like a bratty child.

***

I took my tarot cards down with me and spent a lot of time reading the book that came with them that interprets the tarot through Greek mythology, which makes a lot of sense as all that tarot is is psychology with a dash of intuition and a whole lot of archetypal stories which are found in all of the myth that exists in all different cultures.

I read my cards and they reflected where I was and am at and I have thought about my life and where I am and I want to be myself and be happy and comfortable with where I am at. No need to impress anyone else and no need to spend time worrying about what everyone else thinks. This is why going on holiday and stepping out of my life is a good thing and this is why I love the Catalyst for being the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever come across, but also the only person who’s ever really told me off for being the spoiled little child I can be.

Published in: on December 22, 2007 at 12:24 am Comments (0)

I’ve got sunshine…and rain?

In this last week, I haven’t sat in front of a computer for more than the few moments it takes to check emails and make sure that the world around me hasn’t for some reason stopped or become catastrophic. I don’t know what’s happening in the world news and I don’t really mind either.

I do know that while I’m on an absolutely beautiful little island in the Caribbean, the rest of the world is ticking ahead around me and most of the people I know and love are still doing the same things they usually do — hence not really wanting to now how blissful my stay here is so far.

Actually, it’s been pretty mixed up. I’m a little bit of a mess emotionally, as I was when I left, so coming to spend two weeks with the Catalyst is something that I didn’t know how I was going to react to. It’s always difficult to step into someone else’s life and be perfectly fine, especially when there are all sorts of expectations involved and love and insecurity and other crazy emotions. As we already know, I’m altogether too good at living inside my own head and tying myself up in knots, which I successfully did for a few days last week when I felt like the Catalyst didn’t really want me here (which he really did and was telling me although I wasn’t really hearing it). Essentially, I was just obsessing about minutiae, while he has his whole life here to think about. He also doesn’t want to let me turn him into one of those people who have always existed alongside me in my life — the other on whom I can mold my actions and change myself for — which makes it quite difficult for me to know what to do. How horribly confusing is that? And sort of pathetic too…

It’s weird because he really sees those certain things about me that most people let slide and never talk about. I wish that he didn’t tell me some of the things he does, but then at the same time it is really good for me to hear it because no one else ever says these things. It cuts really deep to be told that the reason people pay me a certain type of attention is because of the attention that I pay them. It’s hard to swallow the fact that I do spend a disproportionate amount of my time trying to be the person I see others projecting for me. That’s exactly who I was with the Big Love, with the Tall Girl, with the majorly f-ed up high school Ex…with freaking little Blonde Bitch when I was five years old. And I hide behind the fact that it’s a defense mechanism and that it’s a way in which I protect myself, but really when you’re not capable of being yourself and spend all of your time using other stronger people as props (and creating a codependent system with them because they come to rely on your being this perfect person in their life who fulfills their needs), who is really gaining anything in the long-run aside from an illusory reality that is in time going to shatter?

So as much as he drives me crazy and makes me feel vulnerable and insecure he also makes me feel beautiful and amazing in that he sees the someone else in me — the bits that I do really like about myself, the bits that are real — and still wants to be with me because of those parts. I feel sort of like a project to him, which gives me a bit of a sick feeling inside. He tells me that he doesn’t want to change me but he also tells me all sorts of things about myself that aren’t really likeable and are things that I do want to change. So it’s hard. I want him so badly but I don’t know what to do to be the person who he wants to be with. He says that I just have to be myself, but I’m not so sure that I even know how to do that.

I feel like I’m going around in circles.

It’s been storming here a lot. Huge winds, downpours of rain, squalls and what have been some rather exciting nights of flapping curtains and hammering rooftops.

Published in: on December 14, 2007 at 1:37 pm Comments (0)

Let it snow…

Mmmm… it’s snowing outside. I’m inside and it’s warm and I’m happy. I just talked to the Catalyst, who I’m leaving to see tomorrow (I know — it’s insane how quickly time flies by), and Bali is sitting here with me and I’ve just about finished classes and I don’t have to work until New Year’s and things are great. Yay! Happiness.

I had a whole crew of my classmates over last night for drinks, which started slowly and ended up being wonderful, a whole big contingent of lovely interesting people, including William who got stuck here because of the snow.

Having my Twin in town has been absolutely fantastic. It does make me feel a little silly and a little old to be reminiscing and viewing our undergrad days in a nostalgic light, especially seeing as they weren’t all that long ago. But looking back at those years, bringing up the hilarious moments (the mad search for roaches at Tall Girl’s cottage; the amazing apocalypse conversation; the whole of stoned second year movie watching; our first NYC adventure) and just being ourselves together is just the best feeling in the world. We did it again. We planned on leaving for a work friend’s house around 9:45pm and then got into a huge conversation about relationship structures and social construction of everything and somehow the two of us can just go on and on about it all. It’s something that we have always and will always share — this extreme skepticism of society and all that is deemed natural. Oh, what have you done to us, Cultural Studies?! We also talked about the fact that maybe life would have been easier had we never done Cultural Studies, I mean, you don’t have many scientists going around doubting the reality of the world. Chemists may doubt religion or god, but I’m sure that a lot of them don’t go around doubting whether anything we do is actually inherently natural, including those things that people absolutely take for granted like love, and kinship; relationship structures; childrearing.

That’s what we were talking about when we got carried away! We were discussing child sexuality and the absolute denial of it in North American culture. On that note, we had or Sex Symposium yesterday (it continues on today, but I already presented) and it was really interesting to hear what everyone was talking about. One of the panels all discussed child sexuality, and there was an especially interesting presentation about Lolita and the tension between the past understandings and the present. What was especially interesting is how she brought up the fact that the way that current theorists posit it to be a story of gross abuse, when as far as many of us are concerned (especially those girls who read in at a ripe young age and did feel desire) it truly is a story of love above all else, and does speak to the fact that girls (and boys) are sexual beings and not just victims of the adult world.

I talked about infidelity and polyamory, and everyone laughed at my jokes and the teacher seemed to be pleased with me so I was happy. I also really enjoyed writing it, so that’s a great feeling too!

It’s still snowing and Bali is sitting staring at the white stuff that has accumulated on the balcony. She looks rather unimpressed when she jumps into it although she consistently goes out and shivers and digs in it and tries to figure out what on earth this bizarre substance is. Definitely not sure about it. (She also gets all wet and then jumps on me, so I’m going to keep her outdoor forays to a minimum).

Alas, I should get myself together and start my day. So much to do; so little time!

Published in: on December 4, 2007 at 2:14 pm Comments (1)
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Poly Personhood: Creating Polyamorous Identity in a Mononormative World

This is what I presented yesterday, and had such a great time writing over the past while. Actually, there were moments when I wanted to kill myself I had spent so much time tying myself in knots and attempting to figure out where exactly I stood in all of this, but when it came down to it, I do believe a lot of what I say. What’s interesting is that I have no idea as to whether or not I would truly be able to be a poly person, but simultaneously, I have trouble refuting my (and Laura Kipnis’) argument about the state of marriage and infidelity. Hmmm… it’s all very tricky!

The dominant language of mononormativity works in such a way that it is seen as natural in our society to fall in love, become a couple and remain partnered for life: happily ever after, and all that. But looking at the 50/50 chance of marriage not working out, it doesn’t seem that this is all that realistic a goal. Behind this idealistic dream that is surreptitiously fed to us intravenously via Hollywood and Harlequin, is a scary truth: the idea that love conquers all and that human beings are naturally monogamous creatures, is in actual fact a social construct.

It is understood that in order for a relationship to last, we have to work at it. As Laura Kipnis notes in her polemic, Against Love, it does seem rather odd that somehow, “the work ethic has managed to brownnose its way into all spheres of human existence” (18). In fact, not only have many people’s relationships become work, but many people seem to prefer to stay at work, than to work on their relationships. Furthermore, it seems to have become not only acceptable, but normal that passion dies within a relationship. And then what happens? Desire makes way for a “mature” relationship, a mature love, which in translation really means no more sex, or that sex too becomes work.

For me, a rather more realistic interpretation of this 50/50 figure of success vs. failure in marriage might be that human beings aren’t really monogamous. But what does that say about this monogamous ideal? But wait! Within the mononormative, heteronormative framework, there’s room for infidelity. While on the surface we all supposedly desire this happily ever after, underneath it all, many discover that they aren’t capable of this, when years into working on a relationship, one or the other partner meets someone else, and rediscovers passion, or worse falls in love. Then there is the choice: make a decision to stay with your partner or to leave her for new love. Choose to tell and risk it all or live a life of lies and deception.

What I want to look at is why these are seen as the only options. When the statistics show the incredible number of people who are adulterous, and the extremely high rates of divorce, would it not be sensible to look for a viable alternative? And an alternative does exist. However, what I’m going to argue is that the constraints of language and dominant mononormative discourse mean that this alternative – polyamory – is kept on the outer fringes of sexual possibility for most people, and furthermore, when it is discussed, it is seen as childish or neurotic or even boring in contrast to infidelity which according to Ani Ritchie appears to be the only viable form of non-monogamy in western cultural discourse (587).

Polyamory is defined in various ways by various people, but the kernel of it is that it is “living by the principle that it is possible to love more than one person at a time without deception or betrayal” (White 17). Words used by the poly community to describe their lifestyle include ethical, responsible, honorable, open, honest, intentional, and principled. The idea is that one lives according to one’s desires and comfort levels, as well as those of ones’ partners, lovers and friends. There is enough love to go around, and as long as honesty and support are maintained, this can be a most rewarding way to avoid the traditional forms of non-consensual non-monogamy that pervade Western society. Through polyamory you can have love and passion flowing through your life consistently, rather than cutting it off with a golden band.

But why, if it sounds like such a reasonable way to live one’s relationships is it so very difficult for most people to fathom that a polyamorous lifestyle is even possible? There are a few reasons for this, our understanding of jealously being a major one, but primarily, I would say that it is discourse and social conditioning that mean that most people are incapable of considering non-monogamous loving lifestyles as a viable option. Because of the way that language structures our world, and thus constrains as well as creates meaning, the lack of language with which to describe polyamory renders it invisible within monogamous culture.

This is something that the polyamorous community has had to struggle with, as the only language available to account for non-monogamy is that of infidelity, language that is imbued with the idea that it is wrong to have more than one romantic or sexual relationship and that the only way to do this is to do it in secrecy. Many polyamorous people feel constrained by this language, and consequently have attempted to reinvent, or reinscribe meaning into words that give them positive connotations, rather than feel restricted by the lack of language available to them.

One of the most obvious examples of the reinscription of meaning into a word is Dossie Easton and Catherine Liszt’s reinterpretation of the word ‘slut.’ Easton and Liszt proclaim themselves to be ‘ethical sluts,’ a term that for them describes someone who respects other people’s rights and feelings, behaves with honesty and integrity, is not selfish, works for the whole community, doesn’t exploit people, and doesn’t treat people like objects (Klesse 644). An ‘ethical slut’ is a person who simply enjoys sexual connection with many partners. Easton further notes in an interview with Christian Klesse, that she has a strong interest in reclaiming language – taking sex-negative words and using them positively, and asks why she should let all of the people with negative views on sexuality define the words we use to talk about it.

In their book, entitled The Ethical Slut, Easton and Liszt note the difficulties involved in talking about polyamory without creating a new language, saying that most of the language that is available to us has built-in value judgments, like the word slut, which are a legacy of our sex negative history (Easton 39). Liszt notes in an interview that if you let your enemies define your words you give them the power to hurt you (Ritchie 591). By creating a new meaning for a word like ‘slut,’ not only can you unpack the double-standards imbued within the word – that promiscuity is bad in women and celebrated in men – but you can also see it as a strategy for resistance, when people proudly proclaim themselves to be ‘ethical sluts,’ which is something that you see on the poly websites and in discussion groups. However, outside of these safe spaces, it is still very difficult for poly people to step away from the dominant mononormative discourse that controls the language we use. 

Describing relationship structures is a place where polyamory has had to create a completely new set of terminology, and not without complications. It seems that there are as many different types of relationships as there are people, and while many do use specific models, for instance the primary/secondary/tertiary model, the V, the tribe or pod, these terms themselves are up for interpretation. In my email correspondence with a woman I will refer to as Polygirl, she remarked to me that she struggles with the labels used in the poly world, as we can never really decide in advance who we will love and how much we’ll love them. She notes that she uses “the label primary to mean the relationship that involves children and finances… but not to define the intensity of love felt. She says, “I’m sure there are others out there who share children with more than one poly love and for them, ‘primary’ could mean something entirely different again.” Some people also have issue with the idea of hierarchical relationship structures, and consequently speak of ‘inner circles’ of relationships, or quads or triads, which attempt to maintain equality within the polyamorous relationship.

Not only are words reinscribed with new meaning, but often new words are created where none exist that sufficiently describe a feeling or type of relationship. For instance, lacking the word to describe a partner’s partner, the term ‘metamour’ was coined. This term came from discussions in the Alt.Poly group, and one of the participants in this thread commented that “there wasn’t a word for it but the concept got talked about a lot, so when someone coined a word it started being used everywhere quickly”(Ritchie 593). A ‘paramour’ is the unmarried partner of a married polyamorous person, and was noted by one poly group member, to have enabled her to recognize the relationship she had with her partner’s partner, which gave him a special relationship to her.

Another place that words have been created is in describing feelings, especially in relation to jealousy, which is popularly considered to be a natural component of romantic love or a pre-programmed response to one’s partner behaving or feeling sexually towards someone else. In polyamory, the word ‘wibbly’ is used to express when one feels anxiety and needs reassurance, but it doesn’t have the same sort of negative connotations as jealousy. Many people also use the term ‘compersion’ to describe the feeling of joy that comes from the joy your partner is experiencing with others. This word is pretty much the antonym for jealousy. Others who don’t like this word use ‘frubbly.’ As Ritchie and Barker note, inventing a word for this positive reaction to a situation challenges the traditional understanding of jealousy and can enable those within poly communities to rethink their emotions and experiences.

Because of the difficulties of living outside of the dominant mononormative relationship structure, many people can feel alienated and incapable of truly expressing an identity. With the creation of a language of polyamory, not only can poly people find a voice, but they can also express themselves within dominant culture and potentially challenge the mononormative understandings of emotions and relationships, and consequently attempt to bring polyamory into a more visible position within mainstream culture.

 

     

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Learning from myself

I am the luckiest girl in the world. I just spent the last half hour chatting with my brother. I have such absolutely amazing people in my life. I have an amazing family. I love my parents and my bro as friends and human beings as well as my family and I couldn’t be luckier. My brother is so fucking awesome and I can’t believe how well we get along. It’s no surprise that mom got all choked up at Thanksgiving dinner.

I was at New Age Girlie’s last night and we had dinner and she pulled cards for me. The cards were amazing. I pulled the Chariot, the High Priest, the Sun and the Tower. The things that came out of it were so spot on . Travelling, heat, new beginnings. Assurance that I had made the right decisions, that good things are coming to me. The Tower did show that there would be a little disaster, or more that I would be descending rather than ascending a staircase momentarily, but I can see that in my life and relationships and think that perhaps even that’s over now because of the day I had yesterday and how much time was spent being the focus of other people’s upsets.

Something I’ve realised is that I haven’t been very good at looking at the big picture. Spending time with the Big Love isn’t something I’m ready for because I’ve never been his friend and we still need to figure out how to be together without being together. My relationship with the Catalyst is something that I want to and need to focus more on. I felt like such a monster when I realised how selfish I was being in practically refusing to turn myself around and see where he’s coming from. Of course it hurts him to see me go through this emotional turmoil, and of course it makes him feel vulnerable because it takes any solid footing and shakes it up.

I am going in the right direction. It makes me feel wonderful to think that I am reclaiming my life and that things are going to start really coming together. There is growing up to do. A whole lot of it, in fact. And there will be moments of weakness and little slip-ups, but for the most part I do feel and know that I am making positive changes and moving forwards and that things are starting to come together. I have a lot of travelling in my future, which is the most beautiful knowledge. I also have heat and sun and new love and new beginnings happening and coming into my life, which are so very welcome at this stage of things. I need to monitor how I act with the Catalyst. I need to realise that I do have certain destructive and selfish tendencies, and that I can’t just be reckless with his love. I don’t want to be, at all, it’s just that my reckless tendencies can get me into a whole lot of unforeseen trouble, and I just don’t want that.

I think one of the most important changes that have come about recently is the new realisation and understanding that I have to take responsibility for my actions and think about what I do for longer rather than thrashing all over the place like a little fish that’s just jumped out of the fishbowl.

I’ve always been a thinker when it comes to externalities, but when it’s about my own life, I’m pretty terrible at being properly self-reflexive. Such a silly little girl.

Oh, but I feel good about my decisions. I know what I need to do. I just need to be strong and do it.

Yesssss….

Published in: on December 1, 2007 at 4:43 pm Comments (0)