Mina's Musings

So Boytoy has been away a week now, will continue to be away next week, is still keeping in touch fairly regularly, and is presenting the idea of having done so as “a given.”  As in, “well, of course.”

On the basis of three dates, I’m not taking anything as “a given” yet (Joe is the Given, thanks), but it’s good to know that the question of all these random assholes I’ve been ranting about is probably moot.  Especially considering he was the only one bright enough to establish that mental and personal connection I was on about yesterday before attempting any further intimacies, and to have put in the time to maintain it.  Once we got to the point of exchanging phone numbers, he texted or called almost every day, whether we were due to see each other or not, and has managed to catch me online almost every day since leaving.  I have no fucking clue how to judge what’s a normal level to “keep in touch” but I’m guessing this is probably pretty good.

Spending five years in a relationship safely deemed “eternal” and then trying to judge when a new one can be safely considered “stable” is hard on the head.

Still, if I’m right, completely aside from the fact that I actually do like this guy, it’s a relief because as much fun as this has been and how psychologically freeing the situation itself is, it’s also been utterly nerve-wracking.

I’ve spent 11 years dealing with men according to two categories:  Friends/Family or Fans/Members.  One I don’t cocktease.   The other I DO, for fun and profit.  Learning to deal with them again on a purely social level has tweaked every social anxiety I have, most of which are triggered during the “getting to know you” process, up to and including the first meet.  Which is why it’s only happened the once, with Boytoy and that alone was a fucking fiasco of social flubs he still giggles over with cocky glee.  Jerk.

There’s also the question of logistics.  From a time management standpoint, I’m already stretched thin and seriously don’t have the time to sit here day in and day out, vetting prospects.  Which is another reason it’s a relief to find that the one I chose to meet appears to have been straight about what he was looking for to:  a relatively “stable” intimate friendship we treat ourselves to a couple of times a week that I liken to indulging in cheesecake.  You can’t eat this shit every day, it’s not a full course meal, but it’s a sweet bit of indulgence once in awhile.

In other news, we got walloped again with a weird winter storm that ran the gamut from rain to freezing rain to hail to a blizzard and supposedly it’s going to snow again later today.  Hope it doesn’t get too bad because my girl and I were talking about getting out for a drink this evening.  Jdawg is back at a heavy courseload (doing her MSW), making the rare occasions we can see each other doubly important.  I’m also a little curious about whether or not her husband K (Joe’s biz partner and best friend) has told her that Joe told him about our new little adventure.

I’ve been kind of dying to talk to a willing ear about it for real, aside from Joe himself and you, dear readers and Tweeps, but the key word is “willing.”  I’m well aware that this is going to shock or even offend some people and while we don’t need anyone’s stamp of approval on our lifestyle, I’d never subject anyone to something they simply don’t want to hear about or are flat-out offended by.

I don’t expect that with J, though.  While most definitely of the Good Girl ilk, she’s also open-minded, intelligent and supportive, and of course knows that just because we do something, it doesn’t mean we’re advocating everyone do so.  Truly wonderful is the friend who can listen and accept without judging or condemning, which has always been the basis of our friendship.  She knows good and well what we do, always has and kind of thinks it’s a hoot, despite the fact that she’d never get up to such shenanigans herself. So I suppose she may just chalk this up to one more adventure her crazy friends are embarking on.

Which is probably accurate.  It’s not like this was a huge step outside our comfort zone, given the fact that Joe and I have been happily exhibiting our sex life (nay, every moment of our private life 24/7, baby) as a form of entertainment for the internet masses for five years now.   All we did was evaluate current boundaries and agree that they’ve expanded and we were cool with that.

And here we are.  Every day, we have amazing talks about how we feel about things and the people we’re meeting.  Despite our initial “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, we actually have begun to open up about our friends and identify them.  The Man knows about Bill (aka Boytoy) and Jason (a prospect whose chances vary from day to day) and I know about Francine (aka “My Chick” lol), Nikki and…..well, the rest of the harem apparently is rather fluid lol.  We’re both getting what we want out of this so far, having fun in our own ways, and honestly bonding more deeply every day.

Also interesting have been the “what if” conversations, resulting in some amazing revelations about ourselves and each other, fun bouts of giggling, sober thoughts and fucking HOT, dirty sex.  The idea that “all this will bring you closer together” is a common one amongst non-monogamists we’ve known together and separately, but I confess to having wondered if it was a cliche they comfort themselves with, to cover the fact that resorting to an alternative lifestyle is easier in some cases than just breaking up with someone you’ve lost interest in.  I believed for years that no couple who was truly and deeply in love could do this — True Love (flourish of trumpets, please) means you couldn’t possibly want anyone else….doesn’t it?

Well, perhaps according to Hollywood and Harlequin Romance.  But the older I get, the more I have come to believe that true love is more about letting go than clinging tighter — letting go of insecurity, jealousy and selfishness.  Letting go of the idea that you can or should control another person.  Letting go of the idea that only through the exclusion of others is a relationship “safe.”  And perhaps most importantly, especially from a female viewpoint, letting go of the idea that a woman’s most complete and only chance for happiness, security, and satisfaction can and should rest ONLY in the hands of The One (more trumpets, please).

“Only through THE ONE can and should a woman achieve personal fulfillment and only through THE ONE should a woman seek friendship, support, nurturing, sexual satisfaction, and a social outlet.  EVER.  To expect anything more is not only morally selfish and wrong but quite possibly insane and contrary to all the laws of womanhood, as such are deemed normal by a good, just and sane society.”

Not to mention every fucking chick flick ever made, as well as centuries of fairy tales and folklore.  “Only by the kiss of her One True Love, did Sleeping Beauty awake.”  Even Shrek tells us:  “Only by Love’s First Kiss will love take its true form.”  Or something-something thereabouts.

Yeah, that’s all worked out well, hasn’t it?  Given current divorce rates and the fact that we ALL know at least 10 couples at any given time who are probably “madly in love” but still couldn’t get along if their lives depended on it, I’d say there’s something seriously fucking flawed with that logic.  My own upbringing confirms the absolute lie of it:  my parents’ 30-yr marriage in which every tightly-mandated moment was spent living only for and through each other resulting in a completely crazy, abusive mother, an always-angry father and absolute misery for us all.  The most most terrifying aspect of it:  they genuinely LOVED each other through every miserable minute and did for years after their divorce.

Joe and I do not dispute True Love.  What we dispute is the the notion that there is only one appropriate box it can fit in, that One Size Should Fit All and that any other interpretation makes = Bad Person. What we’ve done is recognize that placing full responsibility for friendship, support, a social outlet, and complete personal fulfillment in the hands of one magically perfect Other isn’t romantic — it’s one FUCK of a heavy load no one person should always be expected to handle.

“Hi, there!  I love you and you love me, ok?  So let’s create a tight little world with closed borders in which we live only for and through each other because anything else puts our relationship and sense of happiness and/or fulfillment at risk and probably also makes us really bad people.

“And I’m going to make you fully responsible for every last aspect of that sense of personal happiness and fulfillment, ok?  You ready for this shit??  As a reward to each other, we’ll call it ‘true love’ and bask in the approval of society, our families and friends, whether or not we ever actually desire more than what’s deemed necessary or normal.  If that ever comes up, we’ll just ignore it and suck it up because anything else would be really…fucking…weird. True love, baby,  yeah!  High-five!”

This no longer makes sense to us.  Maybe we’re just too honest with ourselves and each other, although I confess that Joe actually wins on this score.  He knew much of this years ago and I should probably thank him (actually I do) for having the respect and patience to wait until I got past societal training and catch up.  Or grow up.

I don’t mean to sound so self-congratulatory but women especially are subject to such massive propaganda about what constitutes the “right” or “wrong” version of love.  I feel a great weight has slipped off me.  The day I finally and unequivocally realized that I did NOT want to bear children — literally could not even imagine doing so — I felt the same.  Nothing is more offensive to me than any one statement declaring that this or that is FINALLY the Last Word and Absolute Truth on love and relationships, nor more guaranteed to send me back to my own personal drawing board to celebrate with a big ‘ol cup of Fuck You and determine for myself what the last word on any given subject will be — whether it’s a question of god, childbearing, marriage, love, sexuality or anything else.

More and more, our current situation feels as though it was to be expected, given our inherent resistance to societal programming, and probably explains even more clearly why neither of us shocked the other when it finally came out in the open.  The only real shock, perhaps, was for us both upon realizing I got here.

Win.