This is a combination/rewrite of two different recent blog posts. After some discussion, I'm reposting both of them here and talking about some valuable lessons.
Have you ever met someone who was very experienced at polyamory, but never really knew that they were or even knew the word for it?
I just have, and it was a rather exciting date followed by a phenomenal crash.
For this, we're going to need a timeline. Last Saturday, I made an incredible connection with a lovely woman. Let's call her, Janet.
So, for reasons I don't understand, I jumped on to one of my favorite dating sites last week, and saw a very pretty face staring back in the match search. Without really thinking, I read the profile, which didn't say much, and messaged her.
It was a complete shot in the dark, ignoring the "date your own species" advice. Lesson here kids, reach out before crossing off your list. Sure, you'll get shot down 99 times out of 100 when they learn you are poly and "aren't into that sort of thing," but hey I'm an optimist.
Within hours, we set up a date. That's surprising, actually. I'm used to a few more days of talking, but this too went quickly. I explained that I'm poly, and a Google search later, she was ok with this.
"Hmmm," I'm thinking, "That's a new one for me. No questions, just 'Ok, that's cool.'"
So I show up for the date in cozy little place I like to call home a few days a month when I need uninterupted hours of writing and caffeine.
I was nervous as hell. I kinda shot high on this date. Let me give you some stats, fellas. Petite, blonde, blue eyes, barely a buck twenty, college educated, successful career, politically savvy... I was way out of my league here. I'm not a troll, but... and I say this with all due respect... this was one... hot... bitch.
So I get there about 5 minutes early, she gets there about 5 minutes after. I'm nervous as hell, and downing a peanut butter frappé. I was dressed upscale casual, playing it cool and confident.
Wow, the act I was putting on was convincing, because when she walked in, I could have honestly been Wayne from Wayne's World hearing "Dream Weaver" playing.
Her slight frame carried with it the confidence of a Dagny Taggart, with angel soft hair hanging down past her shoulders, swinging softly as she swayed. I could make out the freckles on her nimble arms, and a vision came through my mind of what it would be like to find and kiss all of them.
I got up and immediately ran my fingers through her hair and pressed my teeth into her lower lip, sucking softly...
Oh wait, that was in my head.
I smiled broadly, like a complete idiot, and shook her hand. After telling me a story about her interesting trip there, something quite wonderful happened.
For the next few hours, we couldn't shut up. Could not... shut up. We moved from the table, to outdoor seating. The talking only interupted by the lighting of cigarettes. I must have looked crazy, staring at her as I was. Losing myself in her eyes, the way her hair fell across her pink lips when she would turn her head.
She should have run away from this dope who was doing everything short of sticking my front teeth out and saying things like, "Golly!" like Gomer Pile. I was a giddy mess. It took me a full 30 seconds to figure out how to pull out my chair and sit next to her. No, I'm not exagerating.
I learned that she'd never been poly in any type of identification, but that she favored open relationships with honesty all around, and that, get this, she's been in a triad. MFF triad, living together, sex together, and hoping for love all together. Some jelly (jealousy) issues prevented the other woman from committing though.
I was floored. How can someone who's live in a triad have not known she was poly? Well, easy. Nobody ever told her what that was. This self described hippie at heart was just doing what felt natural. And for that, I'm grateful.
You see, nobody was sitting around and thinking, "This monogamy thing is boring, let's think up some crazy shit to do, give it a name, and then figure out how it works." No kids, nobody had to teach Ms Awesome that you can love multiple people, have relationships with multiple people, and even live together, and that's just a peachy way to live your life.
I was officially schooled. I've done this for a while. I wrote a 400+ page book. But I've never lived in a triad house. And here was a "newbie" who jumped to Advanced Poly 203, and got an A+.
"So, how'd the night go," you're probably asking. Well, let's talk about something important here, the metamour.
I'm seeing another lovely girl who I love. She knew I was on a date, and is totally fine. I was poly upfront with her. Janet, on the other hand, explained that she wasn't sure she was really in a relationship with this guy anymore, just casual, open, yadda yadda. Let's call him Tommy, as in Tommy Lee.
When asked what Tommy thought about her dating, the response was basically, "If he has a problem with it, fuck it, I don't care." I'm pretty sure that's an actual, or very close, quote.
About 30 minutes later, we moved to my car and off to a restaurant for dinner and drinks. No break in the talking.
On the way, she asked me what I thought about the date so far and her. I had two choices. I could say, "Well, I'd like to lift you out of the car, carry you up against the wall, and drink you in with my entire body until I have you shuttering with orgasms."
Yeah, that didn't even sound remotely tactful, even in my head. I opted for option 2, which was to say that I'd rather not say yet. She, being the confident person that I was infatuated with, immediately said that she thought I was sexy, smart, and was having a great time so far.
High fiving myself in my head, we pulled into the parking lot.
I do not know what she was thinking, but I couldn't keep my eyes off her or babbling on about the myriad of topics we covered. We had each other's life stories in a nutshell by the time we finished our beers.
I didn't care what happened next. I wanted to see this person a lot more often in my life, that was a given at this point.
And then we came to a point after dinner whereby someone invites the other over, and I was indeed invited. Laughing, I joked that I'd been waiting all night for the invitation.
I can now say that I know the joys of a kick ass little show called Trailer Park Boys, which we watched on Netflix.
Now, here's the really embarrassing part. You all know me. I'm Mr I-Am-Alpha-Wolf, attack mode, suave telling you all how this shit works... well, that was NOT me. I went straight back to highschool.
The first episode of the show put us sitting closer to each other. Episode two introduced us to some drinks and other refreshments, a quick cigarette, and my hand on her shoulder and her's on my leg.
"Jesus H. Christ, DeWayne, what the fuck are you so nervous for? Yes, she's pretty, way out of your league. But for fucks sake, you are acting like you've never had a first date before. Kiss her already," my inner voice was screaming at me. It added, "But, this is really exciting! The slow way this is going is fucking driving me nuts in the best way possible!"
Heads moved closer, and my nose nuzzled her cute little ears through her hair. Breathing started and stopped in halts between us.
My hand caressed her face, her side, her hips, pulling, building momentum. Her hand on my chest, pressing fingers, pulling at my shoulders, desperately begging.
Our lips met in a car crash of raging hormones and pleasure. Suddently, DeWayne's wolf side reemerged from an entire night of nervous hibernation. My hand squeezed her apple breasts, and slipped inside her pants, feeling a warm wetness that let me slowly run down and then inside as my tongue did the same to her mouth.
From the couch to the bedroom, my mind scanned her body like a terminator, looking for the weak points of the female body that I would be attacking with extreme prejudice.
I pulled her top and undershirt off in nearly a single stroke. The bra came lose with a flick of the fingers. Lovely red nipples sprung forth... I felt the low growl building in myself.
My shirt came off, my erection starting to push my pants out. I had decided to not wear underwear for the evening, and I quickly decided that the pants had to go now, and she was as quick with her's.
As if realizing that there was a bed, we finally climbed on it.
At this point, came a warning. "You might want some lube, I'm really, really tight."
Challenge Accepted! The smirk on my face turned to a devilish grin when I discovered that she was not joking in the least. She had one of the cutest pussies I've ever seen, shaved and pink.
Her bottom can only be described as absolutely perfect. Round, and soft, and squeezable. Pale white that I couldn't keep out of my hands.
Very slowly, I pressed myself into her. One of the most intense feelings of wet friction met me.
For the next two hours, we alternated between fucking like rabid animals and laying in each other's arms.
We lay salty and slick in each other's arms, and started again, and again, and again, and again.
Runs for water, runs for a smoke, and then right back. Each time, I admired the amazing silloette that met me from her behind. Have you ever seen the movie Single White Female, and you get to see Bridget Fonda's ass in a doorway in one scene? That image is permanently imprinted on my brain as one of the most perfect asses of cinema. What I was looking at made Fonda look like some two bit skank.
I spent a good portion of the night on oral. I slapped, bit, kissed, and generally manhandled that ass. And what I felt in my mouth, in going down, in kissing, and in all of the places that my mouth wondered, was absolutely incredible. I could have spent an entire weekend just enjoying her body and my mouth.
Finally, she asked if I needed to go home or wanted to stay, but that we'd better get to sleep. It was now about 4am on a night that had started at 9pm. Ignoring all other concerns except to be near her, I opted for a "short nap" and then home.
And... another hour and a half of sex later, we finally fell asleep. But this time, it was short spurts of uncontrollable sex. We both wanted to sleep, but we both couldn't stop. We'd lay for long periods, talking, caressing each other's bodies, sex... and back to laying together. She even tried to put clothes on to help stop us so we coiuld sleep.
It did not help. And I finally pulled out the one thing I know would work. I told her, as I was manually bringing her back up to another orgasm (the number of which I lost count of), "You have to tell me no for us to get some sleep. If you say 'no', it will definitely stop me."
A gasping, whisper escaped her lips, "No." It was the most yes sounding no one can hear, but it worked. Yay for ethics! My arm came over her body, and we held each other until sleep finally captured us.
Don't even ask me what happened the next morning. Round two, of course. And then, the teen and the tween returned home mid-orgasm. Ahh!
Every man on the planet knows, there is one sound you never want to hear, and that's your mom cumming... loudly.
A few minutes later, I was out the door, and we've been texting since. And that pull has us again. I explained to her how NRE works, some talk about compersion and how it works. She's got another man already, and we've talked about that. She's experienced, but never really had a successful poly relationship.
I certainly hope I can help change that for her. Being that we both already have someone in our lives, I'm hoping to let that situation help her both see that jealousy is just a mental boogieman and that compersion is possible.
Sure, my current girlfriend will read this story if/when she chooses. And the new girl I'm seeing will read it as well.
And that's part of the point, too. Fun is fun, but honesty is ethical. When you communicate, listen, and open up this isn't that difficult for most people.
I now have two wonderful people in my life, and I certainly want to keep it that way. The only way to do that is to be, what my new partner called one of her impressions of me, and that's "genuine".
Don't be macho, sexy, genius... Sure, that's the Alpha Male mantra, and I'm all for it. But above all, be genuine.
As much as I talk about what her and I did just last night, I hope no reader misses the other point. Everyone you are with is a real person, with real feelings, real fears, hopes, and dreams. So, once you are genuine, also be respectful, kind, and caring.
I'd have been more than happy to have this person even as a friend in my life. We made a connection that I think started in that place, and goes well beyond sexual. Yeah, the sex was fucking amazing, and I'm going to do that again as soon as absolutely possible!
And that was the end of the story, as of Sunday afternoon when I wrote my original blog piece, and gave it to Janet. She said it was well written, and "good". But something changed Sunday morning, post-fucking. She was going to see Tommy Monday night.
Oh, didn't know they were even that close. Figured she was done with him which is why she was on a dating site.
Then came Monday, and I received texts from Janet. She wanted to meet at the park. This was unexpected.
Bad news, she had job issues. Had a good talk, and she had a good cry on my shoulder. She was broken up, and I was happy to be there for her.
Then we talked about Tommy. Things worked out fine, but he mentioned something about wanting to be her Primary. Great! My language! I know what this means and help translate for her!
We talk and talk, and I reassure and reassure. But she's obviously getting more nervous about something. I discover that she found out that he's been seeing other women. Yes, she JUST found out this information. Strange, I thought they were open?
Maybe they'd agreed, but never shared that they were actually doing it. Whatever, I was still hung over on good pussy or something, cause up to this point, no red flags were waving in my head.
That night, she goes to see Tommy. She was nervous and was ready to go hide in the bathroom. She hadn't told Tommy any details about her date yet. I basically told her, "relax, and just be yourself, and it'll all be fine".
When she told him, he was all weird around her, she told me. I told her, "hey, relax, he's nervous that you're dating someone new, give him a bit." And that's exactly what happened.
Tuesday afternoon, we meet at her house. I sense she's tired, and a bit distant. Figured it was fatigue. We talked a bit, fucked a bit, talked a bit more.
Now she's telling me that she's really worried about Tommy, that she didn't know he wanted a serious relationship. Now the red flags are starting to come up, but I do what I always do, reassure my way through it. This guy is fucking other women, surely this isn't going to become an issue.
That night and the next day, Janet is ill. Sounded like strep throat to me. Surprisingly, I don't get sick in the least, even after having my mouth and other body parts all over her body and in her mouth.
But we talk on the phone for a good long while that night, because she has an issue. She says she feels oddly guilty about what her and I just did. She feels like she did something to Tommy.
She explains that Tommy apparently knows all about poly, and knows Primary and Secondary and other stuff. But she's not sure if he's ok with her and I having an actual relationship.
Again, red flags, but I chalk this up to her lack of knowledge. I spend a full half hour discussing polyamory, ethics, labels, rankings, and the good, bad, and ugly. I lay out the ideal situation, and that Tommy is free to contact me if he wants to make sure things are ok.
I'm being Good Poly Guy(tm)! Victory for knowledge, right?
The next day, Wednesday, we text, and having agreed the previous night to go slow, do more outside the bedroom, things seem fine. I'm going to join her to help with her work on the upcoming Saturday. We talk about different things, her going to the doctor because she's now deathly ill, etc.
All is well in Whoville. And now, I'm going to quote some actual texts, so that you can see the break down in communications:
Me: Cool. We can cool off before dinner with a walk on the Canal in Indy. :)
Her: I need to have a conversation with Tommy before I kind of do this whole date because I don't know if we're all on the same page right now...
Me: I understand.
Her: I'll talk to him tomorrow night. I'm sure it's going to be OK
Ok? What does she mean, OK? So I ask.
Me: And if it's not?
Her: I can't tell the future you need to just let me talk to him and see what happens and if I rush him it isn't going to be good
Wait, she can't tell me what her and I are going to do if her conversation with another guy doesn't go good? I'm confused, and say so.
Me: Ok, well, let me know... I thought it was all cleared up, didn't realize you were asking permission.
Her: OK obviously you have a fucking problem going on here and I don't appreciate passive aggressive statements like I didn't realize you were asking permission. I'm sick I'm barely fucking thinking straight I need to talk to him I've known him for a few months I've gotten close to him I've known you for a few days and you want me to like what I don't know what you want but this is the way that I'm going to do it
Wow, what... the... fuck?!?
She later claims that she didn't jump in biting my head off. You decide. But it keeps going. I try to stay calm, maybe it was just a little snap.
Me: Not passive aggressive. it sounds like you are asking permission, you were on a dating site, open relationship, had a date with me, not in a serious relationship with anyone... the script keeps changing.
Her: What happens if I say I can't see you anymore what then are you going to fucking blow my life up with blog posts and whatever else and talks fucking about me and oh my God because the way you're actin gright now makes me think that you can't handle it.
Folks, I didn't leave anything out. That's the actual conversation. Holy fuck, I had a fucking Sharknado heading my way. My dumb ass is still trying to be calm and collected. I even think this might turn into a productive conversation, so I start with...
Me: No, I would just go away quietly.
You know folks, I've been in two marriages. I've been in two divorces. I've been through relationships of hell and back. I've talked through some dark nights.
But what happened here was unavoidable.
Let's fast forward to the phone calls and shit that happened while I was at work after all this.
I wrote a blog post that basically said, "I'm not fucking hiding" because she wanted to hide our relationship locally to preserve her vanilla image, and "I'm not your bitch, newbie" because I'm not some dick who sits around waiting for Your Man(tm) to approve me.
This apparently got her goat, because she texted me after reading it.
Ladies and gentlemen, I'll sum the entire conversation by using the best quote I've ever heard from someone in a fight with me in my entire life:
"I didn't lie, the truth changed," Janet told me on the phone.
Cue the sound of crickets...
You know, it sounds insane as fuck when you first hear it. It sounds insane when you think about it. But if you ponder it enough, it makes perfect fucking sense.
The first thing I ever told Janet was this: I don't do bullshit either. Because her profile was all about #CutTheBullshit.
And here I was, knee fucking deep in her rediscovering a relationship with a guy who didn't have a fucking clue until I stepped into the scene. He was fucking other girls, didn't tell her. She was fucking me, didn't tell him.
I pop in like Jolly Green Giant Poly Man, and suddenly, these motherfuckers actually start talking and communicating.
Fucking yay me, right! I fucking encouraged that shit! Hell to the fucking, yeah!
But there's blowback on bullshit. And it blew straight my way!
Now, she knows I'm writing this post. Hell, he probably does, too. And I promised a fair and helpful post... post break up. Lessons learned and all that jazz.
Lesson 1 - Don't fuck over one partner on the communication line.
Sure, truth changed. But nobody fucking told me. I sat around on my happy ass throwing words of encouragement upon the pile like good tinder restarting their relationship fire. BTW, when this ended, the best "Tommy" could muster was "Well, better that this happened now. Now you know he's crazy." That's what he seriously told her. Read the text messages, buddy... I wasn't the one that lost my shit. And thanks for the encouragement asshole, I was over here in your corner... dick.
The breakdown wasn't Tommy, who never read my free chapter on Metamours and how not to be a dick. The breakdown was Janet, who kept me in the dark and avoided any serious conversation that "shit be changing". And God knows what she really told Tommy about the break up and how the fight started. I know she didn't remember, she told me herself. And then she deleted the texts. And then she convinced herself that I called her names. (Because using a metaphour around her is calling her names). Thank god I didn't use a simile or a homophone, I'd probably have been stabbed.
I'm joking of course. I'm being a bit over the top for a bit of comedic effect. But seriously, there was a clear breakdown in communication. Janet was the Hinge of this newly formed Vee, and failed badly at communicating with both me and Tommy. And that brings us to lesson 2.
Lesson 2 - Learn your relationship style before practicing it.
Janet is reading this right now, and doesn't even know what I meant when I say she was a Hinge, or that we were a Vee. Obviously, I'll let her either google or buy my book. She said it's expensive. Yep, cause I put 5 months work into it. I bought the Applebee's babe, you can buy the book yourself... and it's still a cheaper deal. ;)
But the lesson here is about newbies. See, she's experienced, as I said at the beginning. But she didn't actually know anything about:
Informed Active Consent
Consent vs Coercion
Communication between Metamours (actually, she did... which is why I suggested Tommy just fucking talk to me, this whole fucking thing would have been avoided, but she wanted to be the gatekeeper and take full responsibility of keeping him and I on the same page... yeah, there's a reason I wrote a fucking book saying DO NOT DO THAT, and even offered that advice in a free chapter... which she read...)
The Hinge sets the tone, the pace, and the style of the relationships. Oh, and she FINALLY cleared it up with Tommy after our breakup. Sure, he was fine with everything all along. Wow, great job, Janet! Glad that got dragged out over 4 days of playing the telephone game, keeping people in the dark, and avoiding tough conversation.
On one hand, this is unfair to Janet. She's never done this before... except for being non-monogamous... and being in a triad... shit, what am I saying, she has done this before. But this goes a long way of saying what this lesson really is:
Regardless of your experience, without reading or studying what you are doing, you'll likely fuck it up the first time you lack a frame of reference and just make it up as you go along.
As you can see, the situation went from kosher to MOTHERFUCKING NUCLEAR RARRRRR in two seconds. As I told her, all she had to do was keep everyone informed. That book for under $10 is up in that right corner of the website for a reason, lol. Informed Active Consent, better than American Express... don't leave home without it.
Or at least, don't let the kid who has driven a car once drive the entire family to Florida. Let dad drive. I heard this from her during our last phone conversation, "I've never done this! It's all new to me! I'm not experienced like you!"
Yes, dear... so you're handling the communication lines all to yourself, why?
Lesson 3 - Date your own species.
You know, I'd still date a newbie, but I've dated three newbies so far in my poly life. The first fucked up, and fell so hard for me that she said she'd leave her husband for me, and then broke up with me a couple weeks later.
Newbies are fucking spazzes and don't know where they're going.
The second newbie I dated... I'm still with!
And this is the third newbie, who rekindled an inconsequential guy not worth even telling me his name... to what she said was "whatever he decides to do, I'll do, too" when I last spoke to her.
If you are a poly, don't date mono's, that's easy. They think they can change you, and you will deal with jealousy bullshit at all times. But there is a difference between a newbie and a single newbie. Someone with someone at the time of trying poly, isn't really trying poly because they're pulling along mono baggage with them. The only newbie worth trying is a single newbie.
Even then, you will hand hold them from mono to poly concepts. But I've dealt with that. That's not shit. But when they bring along baggage, like Janet did here, it's a roller coaster ride up and back down bullshit mountain.
Lesson 4 - Question the motive
I got the distinct impression that Janet know that Tommy was fucking around, was done with him, and was fucking me to either get back or move on. I turned out to be "smart and sexy", her words.
She didn't expect her and I to have a real relationship or to move as fast. I suspect that she got over being pissed at Tommy for not telling her about the women when he came clean, and they felt equal again. It was the first time in their three month relationship (don't laugh, that's long for some people) that they were completely honest.
Unfortunately, here I was, still fucking Janet, and having a real relationship. Tommy was just fucking random women, or so he claims.
That's when I noticed her hitting the breaks on her and I, getting nervous, feeling guilty, etc.
I didn't see the warning signs, but I should have.
Me, I go into each relationship fresh and naive. I'm lookin' for love, as the country songs say, in all the wrong places... or people.
I should have questioned her motive. Did she want a relationship, a fuck buddy, a revenge fuck, or what?
I walked away believing it was either fuck buddy or revenge fuck. Either way, the icky feeling of being used still clings to me. And having felt that earlier, yeah, I'm a big cry baby and broke down when the realization dawned on me.
And, I did that in front of my girlfriend... nice... She was brilliant though, dried my tears, gave me a hug, told me that she loved me and said that she was sorry that I got hurt. God, I love that woman even more now.
Lesson 5 - Get Your Shit Together
I don't mind people looking for fuck buddies. I personally avoid it. I like the emotion, and this relationship was great NRE. It was absolutely amazing. And I don't get that shit from sex.
But my shit is together, my house is in order. Who I'm dating and who I'm with are completely within Informed Active Consent with me. That's not the same as the "same page". I don't just agree with whatever they want me to do. It means I'm my own person and they are their own persons, and we have mutual respect, boundaries, etc.
Janet did not have her shit together. Neither did Tommy.
The VERY... FIRST... THING... I tell EVERYONE in polyamory before starting off is clean your fucking house! First, go to an all honest stance. Second, be prepared to listen and communicated. Last, once you have decided what you want to do with your life, then decide who goes with you and who stays behind. My second wife stayed behind, which is all in the book.
So, for someone to cling on to a three month relationship and tell me how hard it is to be themselves, or that they just have to get on the same page... no offense, but, bitch please. I fought hard to build the life I have now. I don't wanna hear about how you had a good night dancing and you're peaches and cream with doing whatever they think is best.
That's not having your shit together. And I made it clear in this situation that had I known it was a "do whatever they want me to do" situation, I'd have enjoyed some nice conversation on that first date, and went the fuck home alone.
There isn't pussy good enough in this world, or dick for that matter, to make me willingly compromise myself to a situation whereby my relationships are dictated by some third party I don't even know their phone number or fucking last name... but they're going to decide the fate of my relationships without my input?
I don't even ALLOW metamours to have ANY input in MY relationships unless I ask for it. I'm nice, I'm respectful, I'm encouraging. But I will, and have, made clear to any metamour crossing into my relationship that they can step right the fuck out of it.
Clean your house, and keep it clean.
Well, shitballs, I dunno. Janet is a great person to be around, and fucks like the devil's bride. But the lack of communication, the lack of self identification as poly, the lack of respect, lack of assertion of her own will over Tommy's will, and the downright lightning speed with which I was attacked... yeah, it's a no brainer that it's over.
Some valuable lessons were learned, maybe. I know I'm not touching a newbie with a ten foot poll for a very long time. Actually, probably going to see if there are some cute guys to hang out with... men tend to have their shit together, and I need a few months of stable dating before I'm ready to try another woman who could have a sorta-kinda-maybe guy in the picture.
Hell, I'll probably try to find my girl a girl... I think her birthday is coming up, and we've been having a lot of fun with group sex lately.
Heh, I even realized that Janet never even asked about the Heteroflexible tag on my dating profile... bet she was clueless this entire time that I'm Bi, even though it's written all over my Facebook, Twitter profile, the fact that I constantly post about LGBT topics... I suppose reading my book wasn't the only thing she didn't do. Ironic, considering one of the first things I read about her was that she Google's her dates before meeting them.
On the other hand, I want to be fair. Janet get's a tongue lashing here, and that's why I decided to completely change this blog topic.
Yeah, she fucked up and brought two other people along for the ride. But she is a newbie, and we all fucked up as newbies.
God, I fucked up so many times, it filled a book. I wonder if I ever told her that my book is a giant story of the numerous times I fucked up. The entire book would be nonexistant if I didn't fuck up, and I fucked up WELL beyond anything she did.
Perhaps even you, gentle reader, are judging her. Maybe you think you are "taking my side".
But it's not a side, it's just a tiny story that happened in four days of people who have a combined age of over 100 years. It's a blip.
In the long run, it's just a big whoops. In the long run, who really fucking cares except for us.
For you, the reader, it's entertainment. It's Jerry Springer to you. And that's sad.
Janet, for however she didn't do it right, is a person. And I'm just some guy none of you really know or care about.
I write passionately because it hurt me. It was personal to me. It mattered to me. And it mattered to Janet. And it mattered to Tommy.
And that's why I change names. And on her request, even removed more details to keep her life her life.
It's my life, too, but I'm open. I don't give a fuck. I'm the guinea pig by which all of you can learn from. I'm the Howard Stern of Poly. I'm the butt of my own jokes, and in my book, I expose the most embarassing and painful details of my journey on the hope that it changes the world for good.
Poly is good. I hope Janet realizes that. And if she keeps going forward, she'll realize that it requires even more of her, but pays back greatly.
First, poly demands honesty. We saw that fail here, probably through fear and uncertainty.
Second, poly demands communication. You can be honest, you can not lie. But the truth changes, as she very insightfully said.
Third, poly demands self identification. If you don't know who you are and what you want, at least in some sort of way that you can tell who you are from one day to the next, then like Janet, you'll be hopping from one foot to the next.
She told me in one of our last texts that nobody she knows is probably, really, ready for polyamory.
I agree with her. She's not ready. But neither was I when I started. I got caught in a monogamous relationship when I started. I got detoured into swinging. I got sidetracked exploring BDSM. I got overwhelmed when I dated two married women at once. I had to solve my own sexuallity and come to terms with my own bisexuality.
No, she's not ready. We're never ready when we start a relationship. It's like saying you're ready for a child by the time you get pregnant. Most people are not ready for what life has next. We just take it day by day, and learn from every fuck up.
I fucked up here, too. I let her take some shots at me for quite a while. I kept up a mostly calm face. Finally, I'd had enough when I started to cry. That's usually a tipping point for me. Ask most of my ex's. I was actually nicer to her than I am to some real cunts out there.
I have a good tolerance for being shit on, but ever since my second wife and her dance through the cheating valley of infinite cocks, I can become quite an asshole when cornered and feeling taken advantage of or disrespected.
In an unrelated story, I recently was in contact with Newbie #1 when I met a metamour she never told me about. Yep, found a guy that fucked her when I dated her, and she had never told me. I texted to ask. I went back and forth confirming details... and at the end of the day, it was just clear that she'd lied to me.
Now, the mature voice in my head says to just say fuck it and cut her off again. Instead, I took a couple pot shots at her morality. Was it the most mature thing to do? No. Do I feel guilty about it? Not really. But I feel like it didn't help me become a better person. And that dissappoints me.
And I took a couple pot shots after about 45 minutes. This was after she'd already told me that I was mean. I wasn't mean, and I was pretty calm. As you can see from the blog comment at the beginning, I took those types of comments from her for quite a while.
In the end, I lost my temper. And I called her a little puppy dog doing whatever Tommy wanted while he went around fucking whoever he wanted... and you don't see him crying over guilt or messaging them how he wasn't sure he could fuck them without her approval.
That's true, of course. But I said it in a way that didn't just give her the point... that I didn't hear him give one shit about what he did, but all this concern over what she did. What I added came across as very belittling and condescending.
In my defense, I was the awesome good guy for 99% of this, and finally just couldn't take anymore. But, again, does it make me a better person? No, and I'm again disappointed.
At the end of the day, I have a loving girlfriend. Janet has Tommy. Janet is swearing off all the "crazy men" on dating sites. Tommy has his side girls.
And I suppose we go our own ways.
Until next time... and I'll tell you all about it, dear reader.