This might be the most important blog post I have ever written. It is certainly the most difficult one, and the scariest one to post. I've been meaning to do it for well over a year now, not managing to summon up enough courage to actually write and publish it. But I think the time has finally come. I want the world to know.
So here goes. Some of you already know, some of you might have guessed it, but many of you probably have no idea. I am polyamorous. It means that I am capable of having romantic feelings for several persons at the same time. And I'm doing it, too. All the time. Emotional multitasking, in all its confusing glory.
It is important that you understand that this is simply a part of who I am. I did not choose to be polyamorous, as little as you chose to be homosexual, heterosexual, monoamorous, brown-eyed, or whatever. I cannot say for certain for how long I have been polyamorous. Maybe I always have. I did, at any rate, not realise it until a few years ago. At that time I had never heard of the concept 'polyamory', and nobody had explained to me that it was not a sign of mental sickness or a character defect to feel that way. I felt absolutely terrible, and was convinced that however I tried to approach the problem it would result in me living the rest of my life in utter emotional misery.
Then when I finally in desperation talked to a friend about it, my friend (who is rather knowledgeable in matters like this) told me that there are lots of people who feel this way and that there is even a word for it. Moreover, there are people who manage to live openly with it, happily and without shame. At first I was skeptical; how the heck could that actually work in practise? It was just so far beyond my current world-view that I could hardly grasp it with my mind. But I did feel it, and after a surprisingly short mental struggle I managed to accept myself for what I felt, for what I was, and a tremendous weight was lifted off my shoulders. It brought such a fundamental feeling of peace, to be able to see myself clearly for the first time, and to accept myself for who I am. It brought me a happiness and self-esteem that I still carry with me every day. It is really important, I believe, to accept yourself for what you are. Otherwise you will never get the rest of the world to accept you.
So that was the first step. I had realised how I worked, and chose to stop considering myself an abomination, as soon as I became aware that it didn't have to be that way. I cannot change how I feel, you see. Gods know I've tried, but I could as well try to change the orbit of the moon. Feelings are beyond my conscious control; strong, wild and untameable. All I can do is try to live with them.
So that is what I have been trying to do for the past three years. This, in contrast to being polyamorous, is a deliberate choice. I have a suspicion that quite a lot of people are polyamorous to some extent, but very few practise it openly. The latter is not so surprising, since it is not really socially acceptable to have feelings for and be romantically involved with several persons at the same time. It is due to these pesky ideas about that "true love" can only be something between two people who promise each other sexual and romantic exclusiveness, that are so deeply rooted via Christian values in our culture. Books and books could be (and have been) written about it, so I will refrain from writing a kilometre-long harangue about the bloody stupid morals of our time right now. Suffice it to say that I am utterly convinced that it does not have to be this way, and that the times would be all that much better off for changing.
But although the rules appear to be set in stone, I will not stand for them any longer. I choose my own way of living my life now. From my cloud of idealism I dream of anarchy, and in the meantime I have several romantic relationships with people who are aware of the situation, and who agree to live like this openly and without shame. To be fair: it is tricky at times, since there are no well-established rules and expectations to fall back upon. But we make it up as we go along, and learn from our mistakes. It has its pro's and con's to live this way, certainly, but for me it is the only option if I want to be true to myself. And I do, so very deeply. I do not ever want to lock up my feelings inside a cage of shame again, and feel both suffocated and incomplete like I used to.
It is hell of scary, yes. But it is an adventure, and it is both interesting and marvellous. The hardest part of it is not working around jealousy. It is not trying to manage time so that nobody will feel neglected. It is not the confusion of being in love with so many at once. No, as always it is the expectations, judgementalness and reactions of society in general that are the most tiring and difficult to handle, at least for me. I haven't actively tried to hide the way I live, but I have been scared to talk openly about it. Mostly out of fear for not being taken seriously. Responses along the line of "it's just a phase you're going through", or "you'll grow out of it eventually" can actually hurt much more than open denunciation. I have no reason to believe that my emotional constitution will drastically change in the future, but even if that were to be the case, why should the love I feel right now be considered less "true" than if it had been directed towards one person exclusively?
It does not wear thin, you see, it does not work like that. Love generates more love, that's the whole wonderful truth of it. And if you consider such a sentiment to be a sign of moral deprivation, then it's your bloody loss. If you cannot take me as I am, then I am not sorry to say that I do not have a place for you in my life anymore. You may not share my views, but please accept and respect the way I am and choose to live my life. I will not apologise for anything, and rest assured that what I do is not causing you harm in any way.
There. Now I am officially out of the cramped, dark closet and can smell the open air. Why am I doing a recklessly brave and possibly stupid thing such as blogging about this? Why not keep it private (whatever that means)? Well, partly for my own sake; to yet again push myself out of my comfort-zone in the hope of gaining some understanding and possibly a little respect for who I am and how I choose to live my life. But also for the sake of every potential polyamorous person out there who, like I once did, lives in the agony of a firmly planted delusion that there is something wrong with them. There isn't. It's okay to feel this way, and there are ways to live an awesome life with room for all the splendid love that can fit inside of you.
The world needs to know. So that one day we can all live without fear of the judgement of friends, relatives and strangers, however well-meant it might be. That's why I'm doing this, in the hope of spreading some knowledge and making the world a little bit of a better place. On the basis of that sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than to curse the darkness.
Now, dear reader, if you have read this far I have one thing to ask of you. Writing and actually posting this monster of a confession is one of the very scariest things I have done in my life. I would therefore be ever so thankful if you would care to write a short comment at this post (or send me a private message if you know me). Just a word of support would suffice, or even a "fuck you" if that more closely resembles your sentiment on the matter. Or ask me a question if you're curious about something (though I won't be sharing any relationship details or names here). Not because I crave attention, but because it would be nice to know whether I have any friends left after going out in the open with a thing like this. Yes, my neurotic tendencies really make me worry about that for real.
That's all. Now I'm going to post this, and hope that I will dare showing my face to the world tomorrow.
Love, love, and so very much more love,
Love, love, and so very much more love,