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It's about the one liners: a guy, a girl, 3 dogs, 2 cats and two mice walk into a house.. |
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With everything going on in this world, I thought it high time to have a blog. I have a lot to say, and whether I say it into a void or if I actually get people interested--I'm not sure. I think some of the things I have to say will be helpful or interesting. As I add entries to the blog, I'll add more to the description of the blog. May your muses sing!  Shroud
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| Change is difficult, and nostalgia can be a dangerous thing. Sometimes, I catch myself in a reminiscing mood, which in itself isn’t a bad thing. I’ve had a good life, and a wonderful relationship. My husband is a whirlwind romantic, and I have such wonderful stories of things he’s done for me through our decade together. In previous blogs, I’ve talked about the girl that existed before my epiphany, before all the changes that happened. But, I’ve never talked about how difficult it was for that girl to change, to become someone different. It was easy, really, to decide to try poly. It has always been something I’d entertained in my deepest thoughts--thoughts I’d not really realized I’d fantasized. I remember reading that article, my heart sinking and burning in mourning for a man that I’d never met (if you haven’t, read the blog Pandora’s Box). I remember thinking, I can’t...I can’t let my husband suffer like this. Laid before me was a choice. My husband. His happiness. And, eventually, our marriage. Or. My ‘morals’, for lack of a better term. Everything I’d been taught growing up swam in protesting thoughts, struggling to take hold and throw me back into doubt. Marriage is sacred. Between TWO people. It’s cheating. Adultery. You’ll go to hell. You think your marriage is falling apart now? Wait until he leaves you for the other person. You’ll never have a normal life again. Of course, I knew ‘normal’ was subjective. Many of my friends lived unconventional lives that most people would not consider ‘normal’--I knew others that lived a similar lifestyle and as far as I knew, they didn’t have an existential crises on a weekly basis.Approaching the idea of a poly relationship balked at everything that I knew. I had to rewrite the most essential parts of me. Or, at least, I had to rewrite how I saw those most essential parts of me. Sometimes I think I was just playing a role in a play, uttering lines I’d memorized before birth. My heteronormative world had been fed to me since birth. A steady view of what was acceptable. What I should do. Who I should love. How I should love. How could I be any different if I did not know that difference existed? It’s almost as if the more I befriended others that did not share my worldview, the wider my perception became.I was exposed to the possibility that there were more ways to live my life than a white picket fence, 2.5 children and a dutiful husband. Honestly, the way children are set up in the assumption that they are cis and straight and how the culture supports assumed gender roles is its own blog. I’ll tackle that on another day. My husband and I just didn’t fit that picture. I’ll venture to say that we never did. We just kept trying to play our parts in a play written at our births. Now, four years into this life, it’s become our new normal. I don’t really see through that heteronormative lens anymore. I have to step away from my body to really understand that the way I live still isn’t considered “mainstream” or “acceptable”. Sometimes I am reminded by how cruel people can be when I realize that I can’t hold both my husband’s and my partner’s hand in public. The closet is a deep, dark place that I would rather not be in, but the truth of the matter is, both my husband and I are afraid for our professional careers if our partners were discovered. Of course they understand, and we are “out” in all the important, personal areas of our lives. But, it can be tedious to have to be careful to not show affection to my boyfriend in public on the off chance that we meet up with someone that I know--lest they think I’m having an affair. The holidays are especially strange. I would love to share my partners with my family. I think they’re awesome people (obviously--or I wouldn’t be with them) but the fact that I’m bisexual and poly is very very much a secret from my immediate family. My brothers know and love my people, but I shudder to think about the reactions of my traditional parents. And that’s sad. Because that’s a big part of who I am, a big part of how my life is spent now. To keep that aspect hidden about me is to hide a lot of my life. It’s like a wall between me and my parents--or maybe more accurately a chasm. I know one day it won’t be a secret. I know one day, when my brothers are grown and out of the house and I have the option for my parents to just accept who I am or to not...on that day they’ll know. I dunno. It’s in the works. A lot of people don’t think about that. Or, if they do, they don’t understand the gravity behind the decision to be in the closet or to be out. I know a lot of people who just roll their eyes and dismiss the issue. I’ve heard the arguments. It’s private. What does it matter if people know? That’s the point though. It doesn’t matter if people know. It matters that people can’t know. Every action I take, every decision I make, every public action I do, I do with the full knowledge that on the off chance that someone discovers that I live anything other than a heteronormative life, they will take their opinion on something that does not affect them and directly affect me and mine’s life. Imagine having that burden on your shoulders all the time. It’s more than “Oh no! I can’t hold my boyfriend’s hand because someone will find out.” It’s. “Oh no! If someone finds out that I have a girlfriend, we’ll both be harassed or told to leave or not be served.” That’s a bit different in connotation. And, I’ll be honest. I have it a lot easier than most in the LGBTQ+ community. I have a husband. We, at least, “pass” as a hetero couple. We can function in mainstream life without prejudice. Some of my friends don’t have that luxury. It makes me angry. Society has gotten better, but it’s still so much further than it should be. We take it a small step at a time, traveling different paths. Some of us in closets, some of us out and proud, and some of us hiding in plain sight. Hopefully one day our culture will just let us love the person--or people--that make us happy. We’re all just works in progress. |
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