An Apology for a Private Thought

Hi there followers,

Last night was a great night! I will be writing a post about it soon. But for as great as the night was, by the end of the night (and many beers), I had some insecure thoughts racing around in my mind.

So instead of letting the thoughts run wild upstairs, I figured I’d write them down in a draft using the WordPress app. As a result of misusing the app, I accidentally posted the thought.

As soon as I saw it today, I immediately deleted it. This was never intended to be a public thought. I wanted to record it in the moment then come back later and chew on it a bit. What caused the thoughts? Was it external or internal triggers? How real was my assessment of reality in a drunk state? And so on. It may well have made a great post.

In any case, it was up long enough for some of my readers to view. For those of you following me or stumbled across that post – please understand that it was completely out of context and the ravings of a drunk mind. Not to say that the thought was valid or invalid, but I had no intention of placing unexamined, unfiltered content out for my readers. We all have uncomfortable thoughts from time to time. Most of us are cognizant enough to work through those thoughts and come to proper conclusions. What you saw today was such thought in a raw and unexamined format.

My apologies to those it may have confused.

What Would Bill Do?

So there’s this friend of mine… we’ll call him, “Bill”

Bill believes my polyamorous life is an “abomination”.
He says this, then hits on my girlfriends. He lets such words escape his mouth, then he sends me photos of his mistress so as to hide them from his wife. Bill is a close friend; a confidant; indeed, he is my brother in every typical, male, testosterone-driven sense of the word.

There are a few other Bills in my life. Not quite as close as my bro… but their sense of disapproval (and sometimes jealousy) permeates my life. I believe they’re all confused.

I don’t make an attempt to defend my poly life. For one, I’ve only been at it for a couple of years. For two, I’ve only just recently identified with polyamory proper. But even since the days of dating Nadine my male friends have met my relationship choices with frankly disturbing reactions; on-the-fly judgments and quips about how I’m being unnatural or a dog.

These are the same friends that cheat on their partners and brag about it. These are the same friends that couldn’t hold a dyadic relationship together if their eternal souls depended on it. And it’s the two-faced-ness in which these judgments are delivered that gets under my skin just a tad. Because Bill loves me as a brother, I understand that he’s looking out for my best interest. After all, if being hurt by one woman puts me under for a month (or three) – how much more if I’m hurt by two?? I even understand the jealousy of some of the other Bills in my life. There aren’t enough attractive, understanding, rock-and-roll women in the world. Therefore I’m being selfish by taking two off the market.

My relationship with my loves is founded on absolute communication and brutal honesty. So long as everyone in the relationship upholds those standards, no one will ever get cheated on. Nor will they feel the need to cheat. We won’t want to hide things from each other. There will never be a need for covering tracks, paying in cash, getting caught in traffic, working late, ad nauseum. Sharing that you met somebody interesting, or was given a number, or even asked on a date will be met with playful banter, as opposed to suspicion and passive-aggressive comments. Each day is met with a sense of  granite security. Our burdens are shared, and therefore lighter; more manageable.

So does that make us better people? Are we more humane because we have the courage to disclose to our lovers that we feel temptation, infatuation, lust, or any other emotion for another? Not really. Any one of us can become complacent and feel the desire to stray. Our difference is that we give those we love the opportunity to say their peace. That peace could be anywhere from open resentment to confident approval. We’re willing to take that chance.

I believe people lie about having external desire, even cheating, because they really don’t want to hurt their significant other. And this is due to the socialized notion that “I love you” really means, “I own you”. Indeed it may just be that the one doing the transgressing may have just wanted to share a personally joyful moment with the one(s) they love. They may not have had the desire to cheat. But that’s where suspicion and insecurity wreak their havoc.

All in all it doesn’t hurt me when my friends judge my life. Their words are a result of years of maladaptive thinking. Not to say that monogamy or the notion of one-woman-one-man are maladaptive. Rather the idea that one can be unfaithful and omissive without consequence. It’s more socially acceptable to fuck around on your partner on the D-to-the-L, than it is to look someone you claim to love in the face and say you want more.

Post Discussions Post Publishing

One of the greater gifts I’ve received since coming back to writing has been deep discussions with those who know me personally.

It’s only been a few days since I’ve started posting again. I’ve written about the current events in my life. Sometimes I’ve written about whatever happens to cross my mind. The ironic part being that they’re usually one and the same. What I call a passing thought was likely triggered by a ‘seemingly’ small event in my day. And it’s interesting to see how deeply affecting those passing moments truly are.

I always thought I was really good at talking about myself. After all, I’m pretty much my favorite person ever (no secret there), but I suppose I don’t much talk about the things that matter to me. But when I come here to post, the feelings really come to the surface. My best guess is because writing involves more of the physical me than just the flapping my gums. Indeed, writing implores me to shut up. In that silence I’m better able to process what’s really going on upstairs. Then I just let my fingers do their thing.

As a result, my friends and family are finding out more about me than they ever knew… and thankfully they approve!  These are discussions about life, society, boundaries, opinions, morals and ethics – the things that I rarely spout on about in person. Not to say that these conversations don’t come up from time to time. But now when such conversations arise, those I talk with are pre-armed (so to speak). Having better communicated myself in the post makes for a more lively and informative conversation.

Now if I could just do the same in a text message…

What the Little Judgments Mean

Some years ago wile exiting a train stop at 3AM in Chicago, a stranger ran up to me and demanded I give him my wallet. Failing to see a weapon, I simply told him, “No.”
Immediately he deflated and responded with, “Well… can I have a cigarette, then?”
To which my response was an incredulous, “NO!!”

I mean what the *actual* fuck!? The man expected a consolation prize for failing to mug me!

I come from trailer park society with poor education and more than enough bumps along the way to suit me. It took me the better part of my life to end up in the “big city”; that concrete jungle I had always dreamed of as a child of hick culture. I have been acquainted with food stamps, public aid, free clinics and cross-eyed looks from people with more than 50 cents in their pockets.

Living in the city means you’re going to be approached by a unique class of individual. One who will ask you for money on the way into the coffee shop, thank you and bless you upon receiving it, then ask you again 4 minutes later as you leave. You’ll get to know the ones that live on your block. They’re broke and cold and hurting. Some of them are even really honest: “I’m just trying to get a beer.” So you help them cause they made you laugh once while you were half in the bag at your local watering hole.

But it’s not a thanks that you get. Indeed, you get robbed of even the merest sense of well-being for helping out a fellow. You, who was once the cool cat, are now being shamed in public because you didn’t feel like being charitable that day. This individual has the audacity to tell you how they though you were an alright dude. But now you’re just like the rest of the yuppy scum… you know, the yuppy scum that have jobs and pay for things like food stamps, public aid, fee clinics and THE LAST FUCKING BEER THAT YOU’LL EVER GET FROM THIS YUPPY!

I’m jaded now and I do hate these people. I hate them because I can no longer tell the difference between this breed and those whom I’d have no problem helping. I am a lesser person because I can’t judge between the career bum and the poor fuck who didn’t get his psyche med’s that day. My humanity is diminished because I treat equally the desperate mother and the heartless bitch that uses her kids to play on the guilty conscience of others. Indeed I can look a perfect stranger in the eye, with a cigarette in my mouth, and tell them I don’t smoke when they ask for one; or simply tell them, “I’ve got nothing for you.” – then I lock eyes till they walk away.

What does this say about me? It says me that I’m an intolerant ass-hat. It says that my good graces are reserved for the graceful and the good. But only to those within my inner circle or I personally find inviting.
I’m openly judgmental about a class of people, now. This makes me no better than a elitist, fascist, uppity white bigot who is simply nothing more than a part of the problem. And I don’t want to be a part of the solution. I don’t want to find a way for them to appreciate the fact that they are actively doing their part to further distance society. Because I believe they’re fully aware of it. I believe they don’t care. I’d go only as far as to leave a message that they stay the fuck away from me and mine – but the deaf hear no heed.

I feel horrible that I have allowed this to evolve inside my person. It speaks of a willingness to let this class of person rot at the expense of someone to whom my pocket change could have made a difference. There isn’t a happy ending for this post. There’s just awareness of my own faults. So I’ve at least got that going for me.

How to be Inspired

Nikola in a text to me suggested that given the level of newness in my life, I should have written a song about her. My response was that the song Crazy Bitch had already been taken.

Nikola likes when I’m sassy right back at her. Though she has admitted to being a tad uncomfortable with the fact that I can read her so well. And it’s not that I intend to read her at all, but something in me allows me to read something in her… And I like that. I like that I can read her. I like that she knows I can read her.

What she may not know is that she reads me as well. She’s able to read all the uncanny BS I push to the front of my person. She’s has an ability which allows her to react to my BS, all the while knowing what I really mean. It keeps me honest.

Monique, in contrast, doesn’t wait for someone to guess. She is 100% aware of her state and she is more than happy to share that state. It’s a slap in the face along the lines of, “Here’s where I’m at… Now what?” Her emotions are self-validated. She doesn’t need permission to feel, rather she allows herself to be vulnerable and live inside that space.

What she may not know is that her brazen vulnerability shows me that one can, indeed, be a productive individual and still take the time to feel a certain way about any given situation.  And that showing others where you completely stand allows them to meditate on truth, as opposed to strategy. It makes me more of a person.

My failure to write a song for my loves is only due to the fact that I’d have to write a full-on symphony just to convey the slightest portion of where I feel I stand with them.

They do inspire me. However that inspiration surpasses the traditional trappings of any musical verse or iambic pentameter. Theirs is a daily inspiration – one that makes me better in all ways. I quite literally am a better man via my two loves. Sure flowers smell sweeter, and even the Chicago Winter seems brighter… but beyond that, I’m more productive; more in tune with my deeper self; more eager to wake up at 5AM and make coffee; more willing to call a brother on his shit and get to the core of what really matters… more willing to see that there is, in fact, more.

So yeah – maybe I’ll write a song or poem. Maybe paint a picture or two. But all of these vacant gestures will only ever outline the impact they have on me. An impact which evokes the desire for a higher personal standard. An inspiration to contribute, love, accept and live life with a smug grin that suggests unity over superiority.

Such is the harmony of a perfect third.

When Someones Say They Love You: Poly and the new society (part 2)

Well ain’t this just a pretty little fucking pickle!

My anxiety was through the roof. I was falling for two women at the same time. Both of them knew about the other in the abstract, but of course had never met. Entirely unique and beautiful, each. My time with each of them was fulfilling and joyful (not to mention crazy hot in bed!!). What’s more, it wasn’t a situation of one making up where the other lacked. Both relationships were entirely complete and joyful. I was physically and emotionally attracted to both as they were to me. I cherished my time with each of them. Was I in a better position with Nadine after all? Was I screwing with their hearts?

~~~

Martin is one of my closest friends and one I trust when it comes to matters of the heart. And it was in a conversation with him concerning my two loves, both whom he had met, that I came to the realization that maybe – just maybe – my “unfaithfulness” wasn’t a choice. That is to say; what if my cheating heart was actually a heart designed for multiple love? What if mine was no different that the “affliction” of the gay or alternative communities? So let’s break this down:

• I’ve been like this as long as I can remember
• I’ve never once felt guilt via empathy for my transgressions – only through shame
• Others have blamed my actions on everything from phases to poor decision making skills
• I’ve certainly been accosted for my actions
• There exists a valid community of peers who share the same views
• Marriage in the fashion of my community is illegal in most states

So then is it not fair to say that, as opposed to following a poly lifestyle, I am indeed poly?

In fact, no – I’m not a swinger. No – this isn’t a choice. No – I can’t just be monogamous. Poly is not just a state of mind or a lifestyle for me… it is precisely what defines me as a person. It’s a state of being. I can’t make up rules or follow a community norm. My rules come from natural, organic development. My rules will come from the cultivation of deep, intimate and meaningful relationships with those I love.

I had one move to make. One that I had never attempted before. I would decide to own who I am and “come out” to my lovers. And beginning with them, I would vow never to deceive or hide any part of me from them. I would chose to be honest and always communicate my feelings, thoughts, and intentions.

~~~

So I did.

They were… intrigued! And I was just plain fucking shocked. I mean, I was being honest and up-front. I could’t have been more forthcoming if I had been hooked up to a polygraph (pun intended… sorry not sorry). And not only were they totally accepting and understanding, both of them were actually excited about the idea.

To be sure, there were high emotions all around when the three of us first sat in the same room together. It was Valentine’s Day. We laughed. We cried. We got drunk on pink champagne. We talked well into the early hours of the morning and acclimated ourselves to one another. Almost immediately the signs of a well functioning family were evident.

I’m still surprised how quickly we settled into our new situation. The ironic part being that as surprised as I am, everything that’s transpired thus far actually has a sense of obviousness to it. Of course each of us want one-on-one time with each partner. Of course we should get together at least once a week for dinner. Of course we have a full-time group text. Of course our “rules” arise naturally as opposed to being born of any ones’ ego. Of course we maintain our autonomy… Of course.

~~~

Communication has become the cornerstone of our relationship. We talk fluidly and openly. The level of honesty is altogether disturbing and reassuring. We’re forced to face our insecurities, but we arise out of it with a better understanding of ourselves and each other. Even before the relationship officially began, we were there for the other in times of need. The level of naturally occurring support is nothing short of inspiring.

We build intimacy as couples and as a family (for lack of a better word). Our “couples” time results in a reinforced “together” time. The honesty we share in dyadic situations is naturally confirmed in our triad. Truth is truth no matter what; and truth tends to roam freely between the three of us.  To be sure, sometimes it’s brutal truth. Sometimes it stings a little. But how can one understand pleasure without the occasional coloring of pain to contrast it?

~~~

Now… everyone’s big question: S.E.X.
There’s a ton of it! It’s like a Roman orgy every night! We run around naked and ravenous; consuming flesh upon flesh upon sweat until we collapse in a pile of limbs and smiles… only to get back to it an hour later!!!

Nah – I’m just screwing with ya 😉

Our sex is much like the rest of the relationship. It’s healthy, open and beautiful. Sex, like in any committed relationship, is a result of closeness and intimacy. It’s not a porno and it’s not always together. It’s not one threesome stacked on top of another. There doesn’t exist the question of sexual orientation. None of us are gay or straight or anything in between inside the context of our relationship. That said – the sex sure is fun in every capacity!

So I’m climbing up on 2000 words between the two parts of this article. I’ll post more on this topic in the future addressing specifics.
Thanks for reading!

When Someones Say They Love You: Poly and the new society (part 1)

My girlfriend became my girlfriends girlfriend… and I their boyfriend.

Still with me? Good.

My decision to become polyamorous wasn’t much of a decision at all. I’ve been unfaithful in about 98% of my relationships throughout my life. More so, I was confused as to how I could “cheat” on my partner yet still hold them in the highest regards; still love them completely and see them as special. But how could I see my mistress as wholly deserving of love as well? Was I just a perv using emotions as justification to get me some strange on the side? Was I conditioned by my environment to place my needs above those I claim to care for? Was I just a selfish prick lacking any type of a moral/ethical compass? …

Am I still?

Nadine had an attraction to women when we met. She had just come out of her first open lesbian relationship. Falling for a man wasn’t really in her wheelhouse, but she decided to give it a shot anyway. Our courtship quickly turned into (what is colloquially known as) a U-Haul relationship. We went from “howdy” to “how can we fit your shit in my studio apartment” in a matter of a couple months. The salient argument being that we were both historically “cheaters”, were willing to work within the structure of a physically open relationship, and apparently having common kinks was strictly equal to true love.

True enough as the love was, we were trying to compensate for being unfaithful. We didn’t want to be unfaithful. But we both felt that it was only a matter of time before one (or both) of us gave in to our baser desires. Eventually we would need the attention of an additional person in order to feel fulfilled. But it would rarely be the same person, and what additional partners we had we couldn’t keep for long for fear of emotional attachment. Our mistake was trying to take the emotion out of our dealings with additional partners in the first place. But neither one of us would be able to figure that out in time. Ultimately our relationship imploded. The love is still there, sure… but that’s all that is left.

My take-away from that relationship was, “Don’t compensate”. With Nadine I was trying to avoid being unfaithful by flaunting my past transgressions. I was hopeful that the freedom of a perpetual hall-pass would be both sufficient and satiating. Instead I was petty and jealous. I was counting her partners against mine. She had the cool ones… and more of them. What women who would agree to sleep with me found themselves becoming attached to me, and I to them. Which, of course, was verboten.

So here I was again. I had all the freedom to fuck around, but my emotions kept mucking things up. I had it good! I had the “most awesome girlfriend ever”! But the simple fact was that we were both absolutely insufferable people. Too much for any one person to handle. It was a hard lesson, but worth the education.

~~~

Nikola and I made the others acquaintance at a bar while I was still seeing Nadine… and in a dark corner of the bar… and behind the bar… and at the bar across the street. She was fun and full of attitude! Ours was a single evening of goofy fun, copious amounts of alcohol, and yet more copious amounts of making out. We wouldn’t know each others touch till a year later, when a random call from a good friend ended in a sudden realization of who he was with… and me leaping out of my bed at one o’clock in the morning.

By that time I was freshly out of my relationship with Nadine. So we decided to hang out. It was good. It was really good.

I wanted to take my time. I wanted to make sure that Nikola wasn’t a rebound. I wasn’t ready to be vulnerable, and besides, I was having a ton of fun whoring myself out at the local dives. But sure enough, the emotions were just under the surface. She stood out from the crowd. Try as I might I couldn’t just have sex with her. I wanted to hang around and cuddle and watch movies and talk and introduce her to my friends, ad nauseam.

~~~

Monique was the woman who didn’t shy away when I stared at her like some back-alley creep. For that matter, she didn’t even blink. We stared openly at each other. I called her pretty within the first few seconds of meeting her… and boy did I ever mean it! I found myself altogether brazen and shy. We spoke more ‘around’ each other than ‘to’ each other. Dropping hints and hopes in sidelong smiles and wide-eyed glares. It took a friend of mine yelling at me to get me to go back for her number.

After a few false-starts we finally started hanging out on a regular basis. I was really beginning to like her. But I was fresh out of my relationship with Nadine. I wanted to take my time…

I wanted to make sure Monique wasn’t a rebound. I wasn’t ready to be vulnerable, and besides, I was having a ton of fun whoring myself out at the local dives. But sure enough, the emotions were just under the surface. She stood out from the crowd. Try as I might I couldn’t just have sex with her. I wanted to hang around and cuddle and watch movies and talk and introduce her to my friends, ad nauseam.

~~~

As Whore-Fest 2015 came to a close and the dust settled, I found myself only wanting to be with Nikola and Monique. I didn’t have time for other dates. I didn’t want time for other dates. But here I am falling for two women… both equally special… both equally important.

What to do?

_{* The names have been changed because I’m not a fucking idiot.}

Using Plus(+) Tag Subaddressing to respond with Thunderbird

So I unintentionally signed up for a group using a plus tag in my email address.

Most email servers* will allow a plus(+) suffix in your email address to help filter certain emails. An example of this would be foo+bar@myemailserver.com. This convention is also known as ‘subaddressing’, ‘plus-style addressing’, or ‘detailed addressing’. http://tools.ietf.org/html/rfc5233 for the tech-minded.

This is highly useful if you have multiple subscriptions that you’d like to manage using filters. For instance, if you have a google groups subscription that you’d like to go to a special folder, you could use a plus tag in your email address like benny+google_groups@myemailserver.com. From there, you can take advantage of your email clients filter features to sort emails from the group into a separate folder.

So in any case, I ran into a situation where I needed to respond with a subaddressed email in order to unsubscribe. I use Mozilla’s Thunderbird as my email client. So when trying to reply to the unsubscribe link, all I got in the From field was my proper email address. And of course, you can only select from a list of registered email addresses within Thunderbird. What to do?

Failing to find the right words to properly search for a solution, I turned to some of my more techy friends. I decided to post my findings here.

Right-click on your account and select “Settings”:

This will open your Account Settings. From there, all you have to do is edit your email address by adding the subaddress:

Click “OK” to save the new settings. From there, just open a new email as usual. You’ll find that the subaddressed email is now available:

This can obviously be used to correspond from that email address as well as use it for subscription revocation.

To get your regular email address back, just repeat the process above and remove the subaddressing.

That’s it! Hope this helps.

_{*Notably, Office 365 does not support subaddressing.}