Poly Nirvana

Love, Life and Rational Polyamory

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Special Man and I continue to stay connected.  I am safe and I am loved and my heart remains open.  I am happy and hopeful, and I am ready to share what I’ve learned about myself and my poly.

Stay tuned.  






I said no.

I said it more than once.  I said it quietly, to a man who said he loved me.  I choked it out louder, through tears as he ripped into me, and then the pain made me mute. It took everything I had for me to say it again.


There were a lot of other words then.  Stop. Get off. You’re hurting me.

And the man, who said the sun rose and set with me, who said I was an angel, who said I was going to marry him and give him babies, replied, NO.

And he didn’t stop.

When it was over, I called the front desk for new sheets to replace the blood soaked bedding.  When the boy working room service came fifteen minutes later I smiled, so he wouldn’t  know I had just been raped.

The man and I went out for food because he was hungry. It was hard to walk. It hurt to sit. I was ashamed of myself because I had allowed him to take my virginity, and now I was ruined.

He was proud.


Today I read an essay about rape.  I wept, and I wrote.

I’ve never used the word rape before.  Not really. I always said “a kind of date-rape thing” when asked about my first time and then I changed the subject as fast as I could.   I always felt horrible about it, and I tried to forget. 

You don’t forget.

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“For Women Who Are Difficult To Love”

you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

~warsan shire



Today is the monthly Poly Potluck in my small city.  I’m not going.  I don’t feel comfortable, and it’s unclear to me if it’s the fact that Special Man and CC are hosting it at their house, or if it’s simply the Big Breakup and this vague feeling of displacement that I’m carrying, that is keeping me home.

Probably, it’s a combination of both.

I’ve seen SMF several times.  It is hard to let go.  It is hard to not continue to look for a way that we can be together.  I have mixed feelings.

I love him.  It makes things complicated, a word I’m beginning to truly loathe…

I’ve dropped twelve hours per pay period at work, in an effort to force my hand in looking for alternate ways to supplement my income.  I’m excited and terrified.   As I get older, I want… MORE.  There are many things about bedside nursing that are satisfying.  I’m paid well, and I’m good at what I do.  But I can’t keep up the hours and the nightshifts.  I want more joy, and more beauty in my days.  I’m seriously working towards supplementing my income with photography.  I’m happy.  It feels right.

I’ve gained almost exactly ten pounds in the last two months.   I’m sure I’m stress eating.  I need a post  break-up healthy eating  buddy.  Anyone?

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On the evening of the one thousand and second day after our first date, and after a particularly intense disagreement, we lay across my bed, I, the little spoon and he, the familiar big spoon. There was an awkward quiet, and as I began to relax into him, words spilled from my lips.

I think we need to break up.

We laid together in silence. I could hear him breathe, and I knew he was carefully considering what to say next. I couldn’t see his face, and I waited for him to say something, anything that would make everything better. I waited. I waited for a sign. I waited for him to tell me everything would be okay. I bargained with myself in my head: If he kissed me, right then, I would fix it, I would apologize, I would make it better.

He didn’t kiss me.

He moved and sat on the edge of the bed; quiet. I laid my head in his lap. If he puts his fingers in the curls at the back of my neck, I’ll take it back, I thought. My eyes were scrunched together and I waited. Just do it, I willed him, in my mind. I wanted to undo everything. I wanted to take it all back, though I knew I shouldn’t.

Before he left, he said to me, “This is stupid.” I wanted to agree with him, but I bit my tongue, hard.

::Last chance to take it back:: he texted me, ten minutes after he drove away. ::we could make this a break, instead of a break up?::

I put my phone down and burst into tears. They weren’t pretty tears, rather they were the soul-shredding sobs that come occasionally in one’s life, the ugly tears you always remember, with a bitter knot in your throat.

Sometimes you love someone so much that you cannot be together anymore. Sometimes the misalignment of your needs and wants becomes so apparent to one or both of you, that the pain you are causing each other becomes impossible to ignore. You try to compromise, to concede, to put individual needs aside for the good of the relationship as a whole. You adjust and readjust. And lots of relationships are able to grow stronger through the process.

But. Maybe you swallow down your hurt so many times that eventually it rises up and threatens to choke you.

And that’s when it’s time to step back, no matter how much love you have; no matter how much time you have together. No matter how much it hurts to take a different path.

Because believe me, this hurts.


I don’t know why I need to write this down. I want my love to know that I value our time together, and that I am grateful for the things that he taught me. He expanded my view of the world. He showed me different ways to deal with hard situations. He taught me to love and value myself. He showed me that I was loving and lovable, that I could be affectionate and sexual. He was there when my child was life-flighted out of state, and he drove to Oregon to collect me after my own car accident. He took me new places, and taught me how to pee in the woods. He loved and laughed with me, held me when I cried, read to me, smiled at me often and fed me delicious food. All these good things he gave freely, and joyfully, because he loves me.

Because of him, I believe in love again.


We are searching for a new dynamic, he and I. You may see us together; you will see us apart. I cannot simply quit him, though I wonder if that would be somehow gentler on both of us. We are not ready to be completely without each other; not yet.

Not just yet.

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“We have a natural tendency to assume that a remarkable chemistry between two souls is confirmation that they are meant to be together. In the heat of profound feelings, it seems counter-intuitive to imagine ourselves separate from our beloved. But chemistry and longevity are not necessarily bedfellows. Just because we feel earth-shatteringly alive with someone doesn’t mean they are supposed to be our life partner. They may have come for a very different reason- to awaken us, to expand us, to shatter us so wide open that we can never close again. Perhaps they were sent from afar to polish the rough diamond of our soul before vanishing into eternity. Better we surrender our expectations when the beloved comes. (S)he may just be dropping in for a visit. Is the kettle on?”

~from ‘An Uncommon Bond’, by Jeff Brown



I’m in the mountains this week.  It’s green and lovely, and I can hear myself think.

My main thought last week:  Poly is hard, y’all.

This week?

Relationships are hard.

Special Man and I broke up.  Nothing is ever all good, or all bad.  No person, no relationship.  But poly is especially hard.  Especially when we are taught that good poly means that all your needs do not need to be met by a single relationship, and that it’s okay to take the good from a relationship and look elsewhere for your other needs.

But I wasn’t doing that.

I made a huge space in my life for SMF.  And he tried to fill it, within the parameters of the smaller space he had for me in his life.  But I found myself always settling.  Adjusting.  Making due.

It was painful for me.  And painful for him.  I thought that we were working towards a similar vision of poly, but I realized about a month ago that I was wrong.  He is a good man.  I love him, madly.  But we want different things.

The question now is, can we maintain any kind of relationship, any level of contact, where I can make space for another person, or people, and still remain involved with this man who has taught me so much about myself and about the world?

I’m honestly not sure.  How do you make a relationship … less?  You can allocate less time.  You can mandate less contact.  But emotional and mental space?  That’s the tricky bitch.  He wants to find a way that we can stay in each other’s lives.  And I’m not so sure.

I’m not dating anyone else.  I’m not involved with anyone else.  I’m choosing to be alone, rather than make SMF a default partner.  I want to be healthy, and happy, and open to possibilities.  Open to new connections.  And I didn’t allow myself that, three years into this poly relationship.  I made him my priority, instead of myself.  And our dynamic developed to the point where he expected to be my priority, and I don’t think it was healthy for either one of us.  There was a lot of hurt, a lot of expectation that went unmet.

It’s nobody’s fault, and it’s both of our faults.



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