Insert creative title here

After writing my last post, I felt much better.  It was actually quite a remarkable transformation, apparently I needed to get my feelings out in a coherent(ish) way.  I was supposed to have a date yesterday, but plans fell through when he wasn’t feeling well.  So we’re on for next week.  Although at the rate we’re going, first me cancelling, then him cancelling, we may never meet.  So, I informed A that I was available for drinks again, and headed off for ramen as comfort food and then back to the river valley to feed the mosquitoes and listen to an audiobook that had been given to me by a friend.  I was thoroughly enjoying said audiobook when A texted to say he could meet for drinks.  Pleasantly surprised, I hoofed it back to my car and met him at one of the places we frequent.  Cue complete relaxation.  I’m not sure how it happens, we’re both a bucket of stress lately, but three hours later, and just random conversation that consisted mostly of updating each other on life, I left (after getting the most amazing hug) feeling completely reset.  Ready to conquer the world again.  Which is good, because when you have world-conquering plans, you need to be ready for it.

Today was a weird day. I volunteered in my daughter’s class this morning and had a blast.  It was so much fun.  Then home to nap and off to my day job for a meeting.  I had changed a lot of things while one of my coworkers was on maternity leave and I wanted to run the changes past her.  So I filled her in on everything I did, and we had a great talk.  She was seriously impressed with the changes I made and told me that when I was hired, the job I just did was exactly what she was envisioning.  It was one of those moments complete with professional fulfillment. I had worked hard, done a good job, and not only was she OK with it, she was thrilled with the hard work I had done.  It was awesome to be appreciated and acknowledged.

I have slowly told people at work that I have separated from F.  One of my favourite coworkers, who frequently comes into my office to show me something cool or talk to me about something funny came by today.  He asked me how things were going with F.  Then he asked me how I knew it was time to ask for a separation.  So I told him some of my story, although a very abridged version, and he sat down and dumped his issues on me.  It was amazing to be a source of support for someone who is going through so much of what I have been through.  He told me that he’s pretty unhappy in his relationship, and he realized that he has to tell his wife, and he doesn’t know how it’s going to go.  It ended with me offering him a hug and wishing him good luck, but it felt pretty damn good that he felt comfortable coming to me.

Yesterday, I read this cool article about a woman who took control of her sexuality, through “wild sexual exploration”, and how embracing her needs and wants, communicating them, asking for what she desired, and being true to herself while still being challenging and sometimes difficult, led to a transformation in her outside the bedroom.  She became more likely to ask for what she needed in her professional life.  Turned down opportunities that didn’t support her goals or add value to her life.  She took on jobs that valued her education and professional experience.  She made decisions throughout every aspect of her life that honoured herself.  She stopped sacrificing herself for the selfishness of others.  She lived a life of authenticity and purpose.  She is happy.

As I read it, while the central tenet of her article was mostly dissimilar to the course my journey has taken, many of the prevailing themes resonated with me. Making the decision to shed cultural norms, making decisions for myself with disregard for societal pressures and the years of indoctrination that I have received, and living authentically, and sometimes selfishly, by making decisions that are the best for me, when others would have me choose otherwise.    She wrote about it being difficult to shed the indoctrination and identify for herself what she believed and acting on those beliefs without the internalization of cultural norms like slut-shaming, misogyny, and her own ingrained judgements hit home for me.  I’ve been pretty open with my acceptance of my polyamorous nature.  But it hasn’t been without judgement of others, but also judgement of myself, by myself.  Part of this is directly entwined with the sexual aspects of my new relationships and the fact that I both enjoy having sex more and asking for what I desire has become a norm, and I have embraced aspects of bdsm, but also that I have multiple partners.  Growing up in a mononormative culture means that I had to shed my beliefs to be true to myself.  Shedding my beliefs about what I should be doing and how I should be behaving meant thinking deeply about my feelings about others and how they act.  Its part of the realization that I truly believe that people should be able to live their lives sexually free, within the boundaries they provide, with no judgement from or for other people.  The things that rock my world are not necessarily going to be your type of storm, nor mine yours.  But as long as you are getting what you need somewhere, I’m going to be happy that you are sexually fulfilled and living a life true to yourself.  

Through acknowledging who I am and asking for what I need in one aspect of my life, polyamory, I gained a momentum that I didn’t really understand.  I started trying new things – my 40 things before 40 was one example.  I started taking charge of my life more. I was already strong and independent.  But I became strong and independent and unstoppable.  In all my relationships, I asked for what I needed.  I started expecting the respect I hadn’t been getting automatically.  It’s part of the reason why I’ve had to redefine boundaries with my sister, father, and F.  It’s why I’ve taken charge of so many aspects of my career.  It’s part of why I’ve found my voice in my relationships, both clothed and unclothed. I’ve started insisting that everyone in my life honours who I’ve chosen to be.

What does this all mean to me?  It means I’m happy.  Not “life is easy and everything is coming up roses” happy, but happy knowing that I am living my life the way I have chosen.  That my decisions and actions and interactions are my own choice. That I’m doing the right thing for myself and my family and taking control of my life means that the challenges I face are mine, the victories are mine, the sorrows are mine, and I can learn, love, laugh, cry, fail, and succeed knowing that I’ve made the best decision for myself by acknowledging myself and honouring myself.  

 

Broken

The last week has been amazing in so many ways.  Things are falling into place.  F and I are working together really well.  Our bi-weekly finance discussion went so smoothly this week that we ended up thanking each other for working as a team and cooperating so well.  We laughed about things our crazy kids did.  I offered to do some things for him, he for me.  It was so….functional.  

My job is gearing down for the summer.  This is awesome, because it has been, at times, rather insane, with long days and intense work stresses.  I love my job, but even a job I love gets overwhelming with pressure sometimes.  I  also had a great weekend with so many friends around me that love me.

So everything is shiny and beautiful and perfect, right?

No.

I’ve been really down the last couple of days.  This is completely unlike me. I’m normally a super positive person.  I usually have to focus on something super sad to even cry when I want to.  (Unless I’m angry, I can cry very easily when pissed off).  Yesterday, for unknown reasons, my date ghosted and I ended up alone in the evening.  This isn’t that big of a deal. I like being alone with myself.  I’m great company for myself.  But the overwhelming sadness just wasn’t going away.  I asked A to go out for a drink, but he was busy.  This isn’t surprising, he’s always busy these days, and I’m trying to be cognizant of exactly how much I’m asking of him, which in recent weeks has been more than he can give because I haven’t been coping with life that well. I know that sometimes I need to find my support elsewhere, and working out exactly what I need to do to get what I need and, truthfully, even recognizing what I need, is a challenge.  

So, since I was utterly alone last night, I headed into our gorgeous river valley to feed the mosquitoes go for a walk.  I decided I was going to focus on the super sad things that have happened in my life in the last 5 months, to see which one was the one that was trying to make itself known.  I had 2 grandparents die.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer.  My sister attacked me unfairly in a family text conversation and we haven’t talked since.  D broke up with me via email.  I asked F for a separation and we have had near endless conflict for about 9 months. I figured if I was sad, I probably had one or more of these things still to deal with. What this meant is that I was completely overrun with despair. I walked and walked and stifled tears the whole way.  I was feeling dejected and unloved and unwanted and weak and overwhelmingly hurt.  I can’t explain how bad I felt, I haven’t ever felt the way I did last night.  I got back to my car, sat in the driver’s seat and cried.  Full on sobbing, ugly tears, break-down cried.  It hurt in my heart and my stomach and my head.  I cried for probably a good 20 minutes until F texted me to ask me if I was coming home soon because he wanted to get to W’s house.  I figured if I sat there much longer, someone would call the cops because they would be concerned for my safety, thinking I was about to jump in the river or something.  So, I drove home with tears in my eyes, just hoping I could hold it together while I said goodbye to F so that I didn’t have to explain to him that I was broken but didn’t know why.  

Well, that didn’t work.  I walked in and he immediately asked me if I was OK.  I said I didn’t want to talk about it and stood their crying silently as he talked about the day he and the kids had.  He looked up and realized what was happening and stopped talking and offered me a hug.  I declined and he asked if I was sure.  I took the hug.  It was the first proper hug he’s given me since early February.  It wasn’t what I needed, but it helped. It got me out in the yard to do some work before I went to bed and helped redirect me.

I was chatting with X and K during the evening as they both asked how I was doing and I was honest.  X said he had been thinking that he wondered how I did it all, and he concluded that I am Wonder Woman.  K said that he didn’t know how I held up as long as I did and that I’m superhero strong and a real lioness.  In my weakest moment, two people who I care about deeply said something about me being so strong.  I felt so vulnerable and so broken.  I cried even more then, but it helped to realize that people who actually know me see me as a strong person, and that it was OK that I was sad.

I think what happened, or what is happening, is that life has calmed down.  I’m no longer running on adrenaline, putting metaphorical fires out, bouncing from one stressful life event to the next.  I don’t have constant conflict in my life.  I’m not busy like I was a couple months ago.  I’ve had sufficient, and even abundant, down-time lately.  Dealing with the stresses in my life, on top of parenting my children, maintaining my career, boyfriends, friendships, and family obligations has been overwhelming the past months, and I was just operating on autopilot, because I didn’t have the luxury of taking time to process.  I think my subconscious decided that now that I have time, it was OK for me to feel all the feelings.  All those feelings came out all at once last night.  I broke.

This is all OK. Actually normal.  Of course I couldn’t hold it all together.  Who could?  

My friend, the one who came for my birthday, when I posted about my crying in a group we are in together with four of our mutual friends, said: “ It’s normal to feel some sadness. While there are some great things happening in your life, there is also some not so great things happening in your life. Sometimes it’s great to have a good cry.”

Rock reforms with the pressure of water.  Water carves canyons and creates beautiful creations simply by running over it.  I’m hoping that’s what my tears are doing, helping me reform and create something beautiful.  

 

Three things and done

The last time I talked about D, I ended by saying that the relationship was amazing, but the ending wasn’t.  As I’ve processed my heartache and come to a really good, logical place, one that prevents me from being angry at all and has me wondering if friendship will ever be a thing for us, I find myself thinking about the very best of the amazing parts of our relationship.  The things that when I think of, I’m still flooded with that amazing emotion that enveloped me in that moment.  Truthfully, there are so many good memories, it’s hard to narrow them down.  There were so many nights on the couch where we just held each other and watched a movie, running our hands over each other’s or running our hands through each other’s hair (or lack thereof).  There were so many lunches and suppers and drink dates where we sat and talked and held hands and just connected.  There were so many super fucking sexy times in bed.  I was trying to narrow it down to three.  Three memories that if I only had three to hold on to, what they would be.  It’s hard to do so.  By a narrow margin, these three won out.

  1. The Robbie Burns night when A goaded me into coming and D was so happy I was there.  The reaction on his face when he saw me.  The way he said “My mind is blown!” and the actions he did as he said it. Many times.  His wife giving me the bed for the night.  Standing in their kitchen, D hugging both of us and telling us how much he loved us both and was so very happy.  Drunk chatting until all hours of the morning including D talking about picturing us together and how it would look 20 years from now.
  2. The night we first said “I love you” to each other.  The amazing IKEA date, supper at his favourite bar, walk, coffee, and that amazing, long, perfect kiss goodnight.  The way my heart pounded so I thought it would jump out of my chest.  The way I felt when he first said “Goodnight my love”, and the way it felt to whisper “I love you” in his ear.  That amazing feeling of having him say it back.
  3. The night I gave him a long massage.  I got chocolate flavoured/scented (it’s kind of awful, but he just thanked me for not picking cherry) massage oil and massaged him from head to ankle (I have a foot thing).  What followed was hours of foreplay.  It was sensual and soft and when that was done it was hard and sexy and amazing.  I felt like I was showing my love through each touch of every body part.  It was so….complete.  

I miss D.  Things happen in my life and I still catch myself thinking “I should text him to tell him”, and then I realize he’s no longer that person to me. He removed himself from that list in a horrible way. Writing out the above three scenarios hurt.  It brought up the pain that I thought I’d waded through.  The secret of course, is that I haven’t been thinking in detail about any of those things, but acknowledging and moving on.  Writing them out meant thinking hard about the love we shared. What was amazing.  What we’ve lost.

And I’m done.  I’m putting D to rest.  He’s gone from my life.  So he’s gone from this blog too.  I’m still a little sad about that, but the sadness too will end.    

A good place

On Friday, I decided I was taking this weekend to myself.  To be alone and reflect and do some self care.  As alone as one can be when having to keep four young kids alive, anyway.  Saturday and Sunday, I spent in my yard.  I planted most of my garden, mowed the lawn, trimmed the trees, weeded flower beds, and worked.  I got dirty, sweaty, and hot; it was amazing. My kids ran around naked and played in the little paddling pool and got wet naked bums and went shooting out the slide into the pool. My little man learned a bunch of new words this weekend and came and grabbed my hand and dragged me to the couch for a cuddle, which melted my heart.  My girls were lovely, fun, and full of spunk.  The kids played with the neighbourhood kids.  It was easy and relaxing and fun and I processed. Oh how I processed.

I’m in a really good place. The knot in my stomach, the lump in my throat, and the pain in my heart are gone.  I’ve worked at accepting that I may never understand why D ended it the way he did and that I may never understand what my part in it was.  I’ve concluded that I can say it was not me, it was him.  The anger and hurt have dissipated and I think about D far less every day.  So much less that I am forgetting I’m angry about the way he ended it and happy memories float in instead.  As is always the case with me, I can’t stay angry or hold a grudge.  I process quickly, and I’m confident that in no time I’ll just be looking back at everything but our break up with a fondness for how amazing it once was.  The truth is, it was amazing. A relationship ending does not mean it was a bad relationship.  It was a great relationship.  It just had a bad ending.

In among the hurt that I was dealing with last week, F threw me another curve ball in our separation.  A and D had both been suggesting for a long time that I was being too nice.  So, I stopped being so nice.  I’m playing hard ball to his curve ball and he’s upped the passive aggressive bullshit and I’m tired of it.  So I’m going to just let it go and wait and see and try to enjoy my kids and the time I have with A. I need to let go of all the hurt and anger and just be. Take things one step at a time.  Lean on my people and just do stuff in the meantime.

Part of what I did yesterday was reactivate my OKCupid account. I really like getting to know people, talking to them and seeing where things go.  It’ll have to be a pretty strong connection to even get me out on a first date, but there’s no harm in chatting, right? I’m truly not “ready” to date, but I also don’t know when I will be, or if the good time will ever come.  I’m going to play things by ear and see where they go.  I’ve had a lot of messages on Fetlife in the last weeks and am still chatting with K, who I will almost certainly date one day.  The reality is that A’s schedule isn’t going to lighten up in the foreseeable future and we’ve fallen into a good routine with our one in home date every week and stealing a moment here or there otherwise.  I don’t want him to feel pressured for more than he can offer either and that means I might have to get my rocks off elsewhere periodically. I’m polyamorous, so it’s a little odd to have just one man in my life. (If someone would have told me I would write that sentence a year ago, I’d say they were nuts!) I’m just going to be open to possibilities right now and see how things go.

Either way, I’m back to being happy with the life I’ve chosen for myself. I know the decisions I’ve made were right and even though the pain of polyagony has been abundant as of late, living the life I was meant to live and accepting myself as who I am is worth every bit of pain.  I could, however, use a bit of a break.  

Positive spin

The other day was a crazy day for me. Between F and Sister, I just wasn’t dealing with what life was handing me.  My mom called me in the evening and asked me if I thought my sister had lost it.  Why yes mom, yes I do.  Having talked to my friends, I’m not sure this is abnormal behaviour of if it’s just an extreme version of her normal though, in retrospect. 

There were a few things that happened because of my crazy sister and sharing with my people that stuck out for me.  In the best way possible.  I felt incredibly loved and supported.  A, D, G, and several other of my besties all were amazing.  

I was having a really hard time and trying to do my job and really struggling and I reached out to G in the midst of all my sister’s awfulness.  Here’s how our conversation went:

G1G2G3

I have a group of friends where I used to live who are among my best friends in the world. I’ve been leaning on them for so much support and when I shared what my sister with them, this is what happened:

friends 1friends 2friends 3friends 4

And then today, in a conversation about my mom asking if I think she’s losing it:

friends 5

Later in the day, I invited A out and he said ‘no’, which is a central theme lately because he’s so fucking busy, and somewhere in our exchange I realized that I was emotionally done.  As I was crying in my car, I told him I just couldn’t do the conversation we were having.  It wasn’t even an emotional conversation, but I was having some pretty emotional responses to it.  The day was kicking my ass and I wasn’t coping.  I pointed him in the direction of my last blog post to get the details.  I just couldn’t go through explaining it again.  While I was doing some retail therapy (OK, I actually hate shopping, but this girl absolutely needed some new work clothes and was in the mood to buy something that made me feel pretty after all the badness), I got his response:

A1A2

I had told D early in the day that I went to bed with horrificness from my sister in a family thread and woke up to even more, but he tends to get a little upset about the stress in my life and I didn’t want to bother him at work, so in the evening I sent it all to him.  Here’s how that conversation went:

D1D2D3D4D5D6

I spent a bit of time thinking during the day about what if my sister’s perception of me was accurate.  What if people think I’m a manipulative, mean-spirited, judgmental person? What if I really lack the self-awareness and the problem isn’t with her, but with me?  Having heard some awful assumptions about my motivations and behaviours from F, hearing sister say similar things was really hard for me.  How is it that two people who I’ve been so close to can say such similar awful things about me.  Some of it must be true, right?

Well ya.  Because I’m not perfect. I make mistakes.  I have said things in anger that were meant to hurt. I haven’t always taken the high road.  I haven’t always supported them in the way I should.  I own my mistakes. I apologized for them.  I’ve worked on bettering myself and my communication skills and my patience and I’ve forgiven over and over what they’ve done to me.  That’s the central theme.  I’ve forgiven them.  I’ve forgiven myself.  But they haven’t forgiven me.  I am held to these unattainable standards that aren’t communicated, and then blamed when I fail to achieve them.  They both seem to think that I should be doing all the work to change, with no awareness of their own failings.  

While I was thinking this last part through, I realized how much sister and F have in common.  Then I thought about my dad.  My dad is the prototype for my sister’s dysfunctional passive aggressive and often outright aggressive style.  The lack of self-awareness, avoiding taking responsibility, blaming others for problems, and horrible communication all comes from my dad.  My sister comes by it naturally.  It is both nature and nurture.  Apparently my daddy issues came out in my choice of husband too.  Seems I married a version of him.

Polyamory broke that mold for me.  I entered into relationships with men who know how to communicate.  Who take responsibility for their actions.  Who know how to prioritize the things that are important to them.  Men who can adult.  Somewhere in there, with all the functional, productive and generally easy communication, mutual respect, and connection, I no longer had the capacity to wade through F’s passive aggressive bullshit.  Polyamory broke me out of my daddy issues and years of dysfunction.  F and sister just aren’t handling the fact that I’m happy and can take care of myself.  

I can take care of myself.  But even better, I have a veritable army of people who have my back.  I have six amazing girlfriends who all sent me wonderful messages of support and love.  Who saw what was happening and offered intelligent perspective and genuinely kind and supportive comments.  I have two boyfriends who responded with support, love, compassion, kindness, and anger.  I have people so firmly in my court that they are actually angry at my sister for verbally assaulting me.  Those same people are also very aware of who I am and what type of support and encouragement I need.  Those same people are people I’m eternally grateful for and hope I can one day be even a small measure of support to them in the same way.  I am so very fortunate.

 

Asking for what you want when you’re not getting what you need.

The last week has been one of the worst in a long time.  After receiving the “rejection” from D on Monday, I realized exactly how badly I had been coping with all that’s been going on.  The weekend was accentuated by F being a giant asshole to our kids, trying to use them as weapons in our negotiations, and then proposing yet another selfish division of assets and finances and property that once again doesn’t take the children into account.  For some reason, this weekend marked my tank of shit being full to the top.  Something had to give.  And really, said tank gave in two ways. One was a miscommunication with A last week when he said that “love didn’t matter to him” and me overreacting when he meant that he wasn’t prescribing a direction or intent to our relationship.  I had a visceral emotional reaction to the message that left me rather sad for an evening but was resolved quickly in A’s usual direct style. Turns out that the man who chooses his words so carefully chose his words carelessly, not understanding the meaning they would take for me.  

Under normal circumstances, I would have replied with a question about what he meant, but my coping ability for anything emotional was lacking, and I didn’t do that. But sure as shit, I didn’t realize exactly what was going on in my brain until Monday night when D didn’t want me to come over and I was hurt by it.  This is also outside my normal. I work very hard not to get upset about other people’s needs for time, or space, or preference to spend time doing anything else.  In fact, one of my philosophies is that I don’t worry about what other people are thinking unless they identify an issue directly with me.  Likewise, I frequently choose time alone or with very specific people as a part of my self care.  I’m very good at notifying people if I have an issue. So it’s unusual that I spent the next two days wondering if something more was going on with D. If I had done something that he wasn’t communicating.  If there was something he wasn’t telling me.  It was obvious within minutes of him arriving Wednesday that none of my fears were founded, that he was just focused on the things going on in his life.  He’s busy with work as his workload and stress have ramped up, he’s going through a “down” period as he had a very socialization heavy April and needs some down time, and he’s working through a few other things.  His only fault in all of this was not communicating that.  But we’ve been so busy, both of us, that our communication has been far less abundant than a couple months ago. It’s a perfect storm. We’ve become accustomed to quick texts to say “Good Morning” and “Goodnight” with few messages at any other time.  This lack of messages has bothered me for some time, but I haven’t communicated that well. Part of the reason for that is that we had seen each other much more often than we have the past week, so the reconnection was there to mitigate the lack of communication.  Again. Perfect storm. Until recently, the in personal connection was there to make up for the lack of connection in between.

Wednesday, we reconnected in all the right ways.  We talked. Really talked. Caught up. He understood what was going on in my life that caused me to respond rather bluntly to him.  He informed me that he was having a rather challenging conversation with his wife the same night he told me he wanted alone time.  He went to bed early unable to sleep because both the women he loves were angry at him.  This just made me feel bad for him.  Because he’s that amazing that even when I’m justified in being angry with him, I can’t be.  We communicated several of the things that we should have communicated earlier.  But I left a lot unsaid.  Today, I decided that it was high time I ask for what I need.  More communication. More connection.  If we are going to see each other less, I need to be in contact via text more.  We’re going to talk more on Saturday, but I’m happy that I asked for what I need from D.

During this shit storm of confusion with D, A has been busy as fuck.  I miss him terribly. Not specifically that he isn’t available now, but that I miss the simplicity of the relationship we started in January.  That being said, I would never change where we have taken our relationship or where we are headed, even if where that is is to be determined.  He read my most recent post and in response, I received one of the most amazing emails from him.  One that made me feel valued and cared for and just a little bit sexy too.  It was everything I needed in the moment.  The fact that he has so much on his plate, but he cared enough to spend a morning composing an email designed to cheer me up didn’t go unnoticed.  The email itself was amazing. It made my heart skip beats and my face blush, and my mood change.  I’m pretty sure that the third was the purpose of it.  In any case, the thought of it still makes me smile.

There’s the unique dichotomy with A.  There’s this man who comes to me, completely himself, and receives nothing but acceptance.  The reality is, the cocky asshole he can be last presented himself to me at our first date in November.  That weird first date where the connection couldn’t have been more obvious, but the arguments against us lined up at the door perfectly. That version of A is the public version of him.  There’s a lot more to that version, but truthfully, I don’t really know it. I’ve been out with him in a large group a grand total of once.  I just know it exists and that the A I get is more raw.  He’s stripped of the external persona, the professional and social image he needs to keep, and he’s just my boyfriend who enjoys time with me, his super nerdy, quite kinky, never-gets-a-pop-culture-reference, likes to drink, and occasionally use big words while boring him with random science facts, girlfriend.

I don’t know where I was going with that.  My life is just what it is right now.  There’s a lot of stress in my life. There’s a lot of stress in my men’s lives.  The chances to reconnect are limited, and this is hard on me, and while they haven’t said so in so many words, I know it’s hard on them too.  But damn, when we are together?  It’s amazing.  Like the world stops to exist for a time and it’s just us.  If only the world would stop for a little longer once in awhile.  

A weekend with those I love

I’ve spent nearly all the time in the last 3 days with my munchkins.  It’s been awesome.  The highlight by far was G coming over with her son and her son calling my eldest daughter a “douche”.  It was beyond funny. G and I get a kick out of our kids trying to navigate the challenges of being kids without taking much very seriously. It works very well.

I’m really worried about F. As much as he makes my life very difficult, he is really not coping with life in general.  He was rather awful to our eldest yesterday and it ended in her doing an amazing job of communicating what was bother her and him completely failing to listen to her message.  The girls have been saying they don’t want daddy to take care of them because he yells and is angry.  It breaks my heart that the man who was such an amazing role model such a short time ago is doing such a poor job right now. Those kids love him.  They just want their daddy.  Right now, he still has time to be their dad.  But he’s slowly destroying his relationship with them, and one day, they aren’t going to want to be with him anymore. That breaks my heart.

I was talking with G today about all the things that are going on.  About A and D and K and H and all the other things in our cumulative lives.  Again, I realized exactly how incredibly blessed I am.  I have so many people on my team and in my life, who accept me and support me and love me (or like me a little) who lift me up and make me a better person and help me be happy despite all the stress.

One evening when I was telling D about what was going on with F and all the other things in my life and the hilarity of one thing or another that my little herd of assholes did, he stopped me mid-sentence and said: “You’re amazing”.  I didn’t understand why he stopped me to say so and although I’m working on my ability to take a compliment, I’m still not that good at it. So I asked him why.  He said because I have such a good attitude despite all the shit that I’m getting handed to me. That I never catch a break, but my positivity never changes.  I guess I can’t say it enough, but the truth of the matter is that I’m still very happy.  I have amazing friends, incredible family, and two men who provide me with everything I could possibly need in way of support and love and connection, even if I could handle seeing both of them more often.  I recognize that my problems with F are temporary.  That no matter what, I have four beautiful, innocent, and incredible kids who need at least one parent who is there for them through this all. Truthfully, I love those little monkeys, enjoy spending time with them, and while they are normal kids who drive me crazy and make me burst with love for them at near regular intervals, they are everything that matters and every reason that I move forward with a smile on my face.  I know this stuff with F is temporary. But my life with those gorgeous beings who grew inside me and I brought into this world is permanent.  They are my most important relationships.  In fact, G said today that she would not date a man who didn’t talk about his kids as part of his daily life.  That her primary relationship is and will always be with her child.  Indeed, my primary relationship is with those beings.  That is something that will never change.  So, as much as I said a few days ago that my primary relationship was with myself, I guess the reality is that I have four primary relationships, and a “secondary” with myself (or is it a fifth primary?).    

I am fortunate.  I am dating two married men. They don’t demand from me more than I can give them. They are both fathers. They know I understand that they have priorities before me. This doesn’t diminish my meaning to them, in fact, I think that it increases our connection, because we can choose to be who we are to each other, within the parameters that already exist in our lives.  D has chosen an involvement in my life that includes my kids.  He will eventually meet my mom when she becomes a little more comfortable with the life I’ve chosen.  He will charm her like he does everyone else. A has chosen to not be a part of my children’s lives.  That is also more than OK.  We have an amazing time together.  He’s met my kids, but he doesn’t have a relationship with th, and while that day may come, it also may not.  And that’s OK.  I think, although I don’t know, that part of the reason I mean what I do to A and D is because I understand their relationships with their wives and children and families and I don’t demand more from them than they want to give.   

I took the day off on friday to hang out with my kids.  In the afternoon, we headed to D’s work to collect a hug and a little love before he left town for the weekend.  My middle two were awake in the car while my little man slept.  D got in my car and gave me a kiss.  My second, says: “OOOOH, Mommy has a boyfriend!”.  D says “Hi” to the girls, my third says “Hi, I love you” (She totally loves D, it’s awesome), and my second says “Mommy, kisses are gross, you shouldn’t kiss boys.”  So I say “But you ask me for kisses all the time, you like kisses.” She says: “Ya, but adult kisses are gross, and you kissed an adult boy and that’s yucky.”  So I kissed D again and laughed while she made sounds like it was gross. Some day, those “yucky” hugs and kiss are exactly what keeps me happy and positive through the day. Not just driving round trip for an hour to collect a couple kisses and hugs and in total time of 20 minutes and then head home, but the knowledge that there is someone (or two) out there who cares about me in that way.  

Friday evening, A came over for the first time in what seems like forever.  It was incredible.  I woke up very tired on Saturday with bruises in all the right places, sore throughout my body, and recharged and grounded in a way that an evening with him provides. (And wishing for more). There was a point in the evening (by evening, I mean about 2 am) that I was falling asleep in his arms after hours of talking and drinking and naked time.  I was relaxed and happy and content in that moment.  He said something about me starting to snore and falling asleep and how he should go home. I just grabbed his arms, and wrapped them around me, and assumed the role of little spoon.  In that moment, that was everything I needed. It was the aftercare that helped me feel safe and secure and cared for after our night of exceptionally rough and hot and hard sexy time.  It was everything I needed.  About two hours later, I woke up and rolled over, feeling complete and happy and A got dressed and went home after a brief kiss at the door. (Did I mention I love that I don’t have to wash, even the best looking underwear, of my men?)

What is missing from this story is that in the two days before, we had had a miscommunication about love that left me feeling rather disappointed and sad, feeling like he didn’t care about love with me, when he meant that he wasn’t prescribing a path for love to take or concerned if we made it there, but just letting what happens happen.  In that moment, the moment I read his email that said “It doesn’t matter to me if we ever reach the point where we are in love or say it”, I realized exactly where I am with my relationship with A and what I want from it.  It was a profound moment, marked by disappointment and sadness due to miscommunication.  It reminded me of how committed I am to him.  It reminded me that I am more than willing to work through the frustration of our limited time together, due both to my schedule, but mostly his, because the alternative is unthinkable.  The alternative to having to practice patience is to not have him in my life.  And that is not an option that I’m willing to entertain.  There’s something about A that invokes all the good feelings and makes me happy with uncertainty and provides comfort in the undefined. I kind of like him a little bit.  😉