
I didn’t give up writing these last two months. And I haven’t been fighting rabid lemurs. I’ve just been going through a lot. I’ll tell you all about it…
Well, okay, I’ll tell you about some of it.
Some of it is not my story to tell. Some of it is just Rashomon interpretations of the same story. It’s pointless to lay blame and unfair, given the size of this platform, to tell my side of the “my side/her side” things. But the details that are not in dispute and not sensitive are these:
My relationship with one of my partners is changing.
I have moved, and I’m living in downtown Lafayette. (California—not Louisiana or Indiana)
Working outside a traditional paradigm (polyamory or just a whole lot of rejecting the status quo) can be a little weird sometimes. Within more traditional relationship structures, the question is usually, “Can I live with this, or do we part ways?” And if someone is in a particularly common version of monogamy where there is an emphasis on the relationship escalator, the question is often even higher stakes: “Am I okay enough with this to continue forward and move in with/get married to/have children with this person? Or do I need to acknowledge now that my life will be spent unhappy because of this part that isn’t working, and ‘cut my losses’ now?”
In polyamory, though, relationships and their metamorphoses aren’t always “all or nothing” deals. You can de-escalate without ending everything. Maybe you moved in and work WAY better living apart. Or you just aren’t the type of people who can make a date every week work out. Relationships don’t have to ride the escalator to “Married With Children” to count, so you don’t have to end them if what they really need is dialing back.
But also, you may shelve parts of a relationship that aren’t working, but keep right on going with the rest. You can change parts of a relationship, but not others. It can be a little non-binary, and it can even be a little messy. (Or a lot messy.) Maybe you keep banging, but you know you can’t live together or really be involved deeply in each other’s lives. Or you have a great entwined relationship as long as you are basically lovingly platonic.
Once you throw the rulebook away, things get a little funky, but they can also be surprisingly satisfying. Writing your own rules means you can create exactly the lives you want. As long as two people are in agreement about what’s getting de-escalated and what’s staying in play, and neither is sacrificing or taking advantage, it can be tremendously satisfying to ignore what society tells us relationships are “supposed” to be.
Of course, when one person wants ONLY one thing to de-escalate and the other sees that facet of their lives as crucially linked to something else, that stuff starts to get a little messy.
So this partner and I are in a “messy” place. We’re not broken up. We’re not exactly together. We’re not officially dating. We aren’t living together. We don’t hate each other—although we are having some trouble communicating. We’re not quitting or giving up. I moved. But we sometimes hang out and watch streaming shows. We’re in therapy. Grief is there, but it’s grief for an idea. We wanted different things out of cohabitating. So I am not having to try to remember to breathe or anything like that.
I need to titrate emotional introspection and self-care so that neither wallowing nor avoidance is the dominant force in my processing.
Those are both on me. Just gotta have those long walks through nature and listen to Fleetwood Mac songs. Gotta make sure I’m still exercising and eating okay. (Only one night of tater tots and Americone Dream vegan ice cream for dinner.)
And that’s what’s been happening. Between holidays and big life shifts, I didn’t have a lot of time to sit and write. Packing takes time. Unpacking takes time. Big talks take a lot of time. And when something really dysregulating is happening, it can be very hard to seamlessly shift to spending a few hours writing.






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