Polyamorous speed dating vs The One
We were on the way to polyamorous speed dating the other night. I’ve always wanted to do speed dating, because the rom coms would have you think it’s the funniest thing and it seems fantastic fodder for writing.
It was amazingly run by two facilitators who lined up a series of promoting questions.
Those questions almost made me forgot that the night was poly speed dating. What it became for me was honest-truth-hour-with-strangers. Because when I’m standing in front of someone and asked to describe my perfect kiss, I want to giggle and shy away from such naked intimacy. But when someone else opens themselves up, you realise that there’s this amazing strength and freedom in admitting to the unexpected.
But as the night came around to a close, and people were ticking down names, I realised that this little idea of speed dating is *made* for poly people. Cause what happens when you’re monogamous and you get three “matches”? You go on a couple of dates with each before deciding on “the only one”.
People asked if there would be an expectation of dating, or if we could tick people we wanted to just see again, people who seemed fun. Of course it wasn’t just about dating! Even monogamous friends acknowledge that one person can’t be “the only one” to other person.
On the way to polyamorous speed dating, we were talking about how hard though, even with poly, it is to make people feel equal. We went into a business together and were both chosen as part of the bridal party in another couples’ wedding, and my other partner at the time needed to be part of those things to feel equal. While the latter obviously wasn’t an option, I was left with the feeling I could at least change the things that were in my control.
I finally opened up about the small instances of day to day jealousy, my inwardly acknowledged need to give less to one partner and more to my other partner so that he would feel things were equal. During his darkest times, he would cling and say I was the only thing keeping him here. The only one. This made me sure of what I was doing, something I had planned to only maintain for a short term.
I gave all my time that wasn’t to my first partner to my second partner to come along, to the exclusion of friends simply because they had to be less important at that time. Logically I knew that one person couldn’t fix another, but if I could just to the end of an imagined list, get as many road blocks out of the way… And I may be small but I am fierce when I come up against the universe!
The second partner finally got two other partners, partial remission, a job he didn’t hate. He was in a house big enough for all of his things, where he felt like he lived in a home, rather than just paying rent. He and i ended up with one or two nights of the week that were just ours .
Despite my own autonomy, I’d gradually become used to living as two people who were one, fighting the same battle, so much so I’d forgotten what I liked doing before that. The short term became the long term. The habit became part of the relationship and the relationship was the habit.
His interests suddenly changed so that different things were important to him. Living. Just… that. Living in a different house. Living with different people. Mortgages for five. Children and long term were back on the table. Remission.
There’s a part of me that’s sad he didn’t end it sooner, when it first became evident that I couldn’t make the same mental 180, and spared us both months of pain. It wasn’t just his fault. He’d asked for and needed certain things, but I’d chosen to give. And then I got stuck. Wasn’t part of the plan, but it happened anyway. As soon as that relationship was gone, my own thing suddenly rushed back like something that had only been held back by a dam that had disappeared. Pottering around the house, spending time without anyone but my cats. Writing and ignoring anyone else. Library trips. Creative time with friends. Sleepovers that have nothing to do with partners. As I finished grieving, mental health replaced my mental illness, giving me more time to do all my things and regaling over my own ridiculousness in forgetting that no one person can be everything for another.
I never wish for things to change because you never know how the butterfly’s wing will reshape things on the other side of the world. And things are good, really good, for the first time in too many years. But damn.
I wish he’d found all these loving relationships with people who were good to him sooner. I wish people found the right words when it mattered. I wish life and work didn’t get so on top of people. I wish people came with a handbook so we didn’t have to assume the right way to act.
I’ve never understood regret, just like i never understood anger. I still don’t think I express it like I should be, but there are fewer current unfair things that cause rage and express as sadness. It’s giving me time to reflect. I’ve learned so many things this year, and I reckon there may be more to come and I say: bring it. Bring the best of it, bring the worst, and I’ll get through it. A lot of this year’s been shit for a lot of my people, and a lot of it’s probably going to become fodder for my writing anyway, just like the poly speed dating, so I’m gonna to say that I’m grateful.
