poly

May 13, 2026

Not There Yet – 1 – Love’s Limits

I have written out the story of how Charlie and I met so many times that I could probably lay them over each other and have them be near identical. It’s one of my favorites. Which is why I tell it so much. It sounds trite but sometimes it just feels fated. Like it was meant to happen. I’m sure most people do that to romantic stories, or we wouldn’t have a term coined when “romanticizing” them.

Charlie coming into my life was an accident. He messaged me, thinking I was someone else, and because I was young and dumb I pretended to be that friend until the joke lost it’s power. Then when I told him who I really was I saved his username into my AOL buddy list and would subsequently talk to him every time he came online.

It’s funny to think of the context of his first ever words to me, “Yeah, Diego and I are still together.” In my mind I use the same cadence in an imaginary conversation he may have had with someone else about me. “Yeah, Josh and I are still together.” The truth of the matter is I did not make our “romantic accident” easy to maintain.

The last time I did a project of this magnitude (writing weekly about my life to a collection of songs) I wound up having an epiphany that finally put all of my trauma into perspective and I was able to finally move on. Too bad it took me 18 years to step past it. That’s the biggest issue with me. I tend to procrastinate everything, especially when it comes to emotional healing. Because of that, I wound up ruining what could have been a perfect relationship.

That probably isn’t the best way to put it. It almost sounds like it wasn’t wonderful and it was. Despite all of the broken and rough bits. In reality, that was our entire time together. It existed when it shouldn’t have, and stayed there even with all of the terrible things that happened.

So, how did I ruin it? Why was it so bad? Me, of course. Not dealing with my emotional trauma in a healthy way I ended up cheating on my husband more times than I can count. We broke up twice, but never for very long or even at all. We would continue to talk and work through our problems and with grace, that I did not deserve, he would forgive me and take me back. Why? I still have no idea. I didn’t deserve it. There were three big events where he caught me cheating in ways that led to some of the worst moments of my life. And when I was caught, I was honest. I had already lied so much in the effort, that to continue doing so, when the facts were very clear, was ridiculous to me. Sometimes I think that’s why most people keep me around, because I’m honest and earnest.

My cynical side says it was because ‘he couldn’t do any better’ (he had really bad self esteem) but that still, in some fucked up way, praises myself. As if I’m some kind of fucking prize. When I say that, that’s not my intention. What I mean is that I was a mildly attractive person with a kind heart, and the gay world is filled with cruel assholes who will not hesitate in messaging you on some silly app to say “Your ugly. Kill yourself.” Which is something my husband literally had messaged to him. (The typo kept to maintain authenticity.)

So, why did he stay with me? I’m going to go with that he loved me. That man showed it to me every day and because I was so broken, with such a shitty self image, I was unwilling to accept that fact. I told myself every lie that I didn’t deserve it, so I tried to break it. I tested it’s boundaries every time, and what I found is that love is breakable but easily repaired. It’s magnetic. At the same time, it isn’t. The magnetism comes from our persistence and unwillingness to give up. When I look back at all of his examples, that is how love is meant to look: unyielding, unrelenting, persistent. It’s communication and honesty. Grace! Of which we had copious amounts of because of my constant state of pushing the limits.

In the end our marriage morphed into something completely new and totally our own. To most of society it isn’t what it’s supposed to be: a man and a woman. Hell we couldn’t even bother with monogamy. Our relationship flourished the most when we stopped confining ourselves into the boundaries of typical stereotypes. Genuinely. Our final test was when we dropped our taught perspective of monogamy and embraced polyamory.

April 23, 2024

Loss in Polyamory

It’s funny, everyone always wants to talk about the “cheating” parts of polyamory and never about the fact that you have to travel the ups and downs of life with other contrasting personalities. When Charlie and I first opened up our marriage I was excited to see where it went but also so utterly terrified. What if he found someone that was “better” than me? It was the one thought that ran through my mind over and over. Luckily for me my husband had a type and it was “broken people.” He had a savior complex. He found the ones who were at their lowest and tried to rescue them. It is funny how many don’t want to be saved or out-right refuse it. (By the way, I’m not saying that I was or am better than them.)

In the end, all it really did (for both of us) is really appreciate the other. I know that sounds so counterintuitive to what society teaches you, but it made our bond that much stronger. We saw the best parts of our relationship and welcomed the parts that had become “familiar.” Most relationships would see it as being stale or stagnant but it became the thing that we treasured most.

Through our experiences with polyamory we have learned a lot through trial and error. There is no guidebook, and even if there was one that could prepare you it could never hit every aspect. Each relationship, like any connection from one to another, is different. Nothing in life is ever as precise as a puzzle piece. The only thing you can 100% expect from it is the requirement for communication and honesty. And honesty isn’t just being open to one’s “extra-curricular activities,” it is being truthful with one’s own emotions. The amount of self-awareness required to co-habitate with multiple personalities is insurmountable.

What none of us were prepared for being in our polycule was dealing with loss. Everyone is always hyperfixated on the sexual component which (spoiler alert) really does not come into play as frequently as those would believe. Then again, it might be different for others. I can only attest to my own experiences.

Before my husband passed he was so concerned with what would happen with his boyfriend when he was gone. He would repeat “you have other josh” to me so much to the point that I was growing exhausted with the observation. Sure I have him, but in a relationship people are not employees, you can’t just replace one with another. Charlie also neglected the fact that the one thing he and I held most similar is wanting to be the “white knight.”

How I describe his boyfriend (Tony) and I is that he is my brother. And I mean that. I am weird in the sense that I mean what I say and say only what I mean. It is genuinely difficult for me to give a compliment when I do not feel it is deserved. So, like I said with my friend Nick (lol IYKYK) who I have lain claim as my brother, it is a fact that comes from the bottom of my heart. It is stating that I love them more than I could love a family member and I will be there for them no matter what. No matter how much they may piss me off, irritate me, or hardly speak to me I will love them unconditionally.

So, my husband not taking that into the equation bothers me, but then again maybe he was pushing me to step up to the plate. Which… the man was a master at manipulation.

Navigating loss in this environment is so strange. I, again, try and struggle to keep everything balanced. I want Tony to know he will be okay, that he is wanted, and that we’re both in this together. With Josh I have to make sure he does not feel excluded, that he is apart of this also. I just worry my efforts are “indirect” and more distractions than solutions.

I will do what I must for everyone to feel okay and, much to my chagrin, it is impossible. Someone gets hurt in the process. Always. I just have to make sure we handle it through communication and reassurance.

I am trying… and will continue to do so until my efforts appear to be worthless.

March 1, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 8 – High Hopes

The beauty of this song is that it perfectly encapsulates the person it represents in my mind. It has this very high energy, happy beat that gives the impression that the lyrics encased match it’s tempo. When you really look at them they are not. They speak of constant struggle and strife while always maintaining an enthusiastic demeanor. But they’re sung in such a way that it tricks the casual listener. It’s only those who truly listen that will know.

Let us also not fail to mention that it is also an awesome song choice to play in Beat Saber.

Tony is someone who seemed to magically appear out of the ether. As if he was called from some mystical place to my and my husbands world. I had had no idea that he and my husband had been talking. It wasn’t until late one evening, as Charlie and I were relaxing in the hot tub, that he informed me that someone was coming over to join us. My skin prickled with excitement because I thought he was coming over for… uh… other reasons besides to have a couple drinks and soak in the warm water.

He arrived, stripped down to his birthday suit, and hopped in. We spent hours talking, and much to his and my husband’s dismay, I lingered much longer than they had anticipated. Half drunk at 2 in the morning I had to be an adult and get to bed. It was a work night, and unless I wanted a massive hangover it was best for me to skedaddle.

Reluctantly I went to bed… Then I woke up with a start and looked out the bedroom window and saw the two having a very intimate time. Upset I packed up some clothes and headed over to my mother’s to sleep in her spare room. My husband called to inquire my whereabouts and I said I just had to get out of there.

Tony left, drunk, because he felt like he had upset the balance and didn’t want to be involved in the drama.

After some thinking I realized why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t that I had seen them together. That is one of my weird sexual kinks. Why I got upset was, like I had mentioned earlier, I had assumed it was meant to be a group effort. Which it was not. There was a lack of communication on my husband’s part. Had I been informed, it wouldn’t have been a thing. I would have also gotten way more sleep than I ended up getting. This episode was merely something we could learn and grow from.

The next day I found Tony on Scruff and apologized. I told him that there was no hard feelings I was just drunk and being weird. I didn’t want this episode to ruin anything between him and Charlie.

It surprisingly did not.

He came over the next night and brought along his PS4. He had the whole VR set-up and we ended up playing Beat Saber, this ADORABLE little robot game, and one based around the Paranormal Activity movies. It was a blast.

Tony invited himself to one of Charlie’s appointments at Cedars-Sinai. It was the follow-up nerve test to see what change their was from February. As it turns out, there was a lot. The next appointment that Tony invited himself to was the one where the doctor casually dropped his diagnosis. However, my husband did not pay any attention. Because, when we read it a couple days later on his patient-portal synopsis we both had a breakdown.

That night Charlie, Tony, Josh and I all hopped into the hot-tub and drank. What else do you do when you’ve been given news that you have a terminal illness?

For lack of any term, I have stolen the one coined by the Mormon polygamists. Instead of sister-wives I call Tony my brother-husband. I would do anything for him. He very quickly became a huge part of Charlie’s and my life. And one I wouldn’t and couldn’t do without. Everyday I thank the universe for sending out the call, or answering it, and having him arrive.

As it turns out, he has been in our orbit, but as a secret shadow planet that only comes into view every millennia. He had attended many of the offensive comedy shows I had been in, he LITERALLY worked down the street from me (he and his work mates used to watch me bizarrely pull up into a parking space in front of their shop and smoke cigarettes) and he knows so many of our random acquaintances. That last one is common in a small town, though. So it isn’t that out of the ordinary.

I chose this song mainly because it was a repeated choice while playing Beat Saber in our old living room. (That and “Greatest Show.”) It also matches how I feel about him. He always has high hopes and is such an optimistic person. Always. Every once in awhile it cracks under the exhaustion of trying to maintain the show. But with a little intermission he is right back to it. The only thing in the song that doesn’t match is he is one in a million.

P.S. I will eventually delve into more obscure songs at some point in time. I feel like everything so far has been “Top 40” and I am better than that.

P.P.S. I will also eventually catch up to the proper order. I’m a blog behind in my goal.

September 22, 2020

Poly-Cogitate

By most socially accepted standards my relationship is unique. My husband and I have an open marriage. I have a boyfriend and he has had his collection of boys on the side. It was agreed upon at a time when our marriage was on the rocks, but after one night drinking at a Palm Springs bar, our relationship actually has never been stronger. I think it’s because with having an open relationship, we have to be honest and vulnerable. We have to share whenever something is bothering us and rigorously set boundaries of where we will allow ourselves/the relationship to go. It’s the biggest game of trial and error and (so far) has worked.

With my husband’s ALS diagnosis, it has made things even more complex than before. Exclusively for me.

When I was first dealing with the initial shock I went through this weird range of emotions. I was overwhelmed with guilt that I was basically replacing my dying husband with another before he was even gone. Then I shot off on a mental tangent that my in-laws would look at me as though I was brushing my husband aside or that I didn’t care for him as much as I should. The worst of all of them was that I thought my boyfriend wanted him to die so he could “finally have me.” All of this was thought up and manufactured in my head. There was nothing that anyone had done or said for these to be legitimate.

Regardless, I couldn’t shake them and these lingered like a cloud of gnats at the back of my mind.

I have since moved past it all because of communication. It was through that that I was reminded that when we agreed on all of this there wasn’t a terminal diagnosis. (Maybe our marriage, but that’s been recovered.) So, I can’t get caught up in these negative thoughts when they don’t apply and don’t exist.

I felt my guilt and shame because I was driven to do more for him. Be there. Do whatever I can. With the way it is, there is nothing dictating that I can’t.

I felt even more remorse toward my boyfriend because he was unfairly getting the brunt of my anger (about my husband dying) for absolutely no reason at all. It was unreasonable of me to even think he felt that way, and since we’ve talked I know he doesn’t. He’s even gone as far to say that he will help me care for him when it gets the most difficult. Again, offering way more of himself than he should. I never expected that kind of reaction.

Again, the key to all of this working is honest communication. The only hold out is, usually, me. I am so quick to share every detail of my personal life, but there are certain truths that I can’t be open about. Maybe it’s my need to still have “secrets.” It’s just stupid for me to even attempt at being emotionally guarded when I’m wounded, because I have THE WORST poker face. Anyone who is within my orbit will immediately know something is absolutely bothering me, no matter how I empathically remark to the contrary.