Sometimes I’m jealous, and sometimes I’m compersive. And sometimes, I get a different reaction for exactly the same action. It all depends on context, and I’m still observing what contexts inspire which reactions.
First off, my lovers will all point out that I react better to things when I’m well fed and slept. I’m already aware that I’m generous with my resources if I feel like I have enough of them (i.e. I’m pleasant to be around if my physical needs are met). Jealousy doesn’t so much involve my resources, but other peoples’. Similarly, though, I can be generous with other people’s resources if I feel like enough of them go to me.
Let’s work with the assumption that I have opinions on how other people use their resources (this wording may sound callous, but the truth is, people do have opinions about others’ choices, and they express them. They can express judgements to the relevant person and have a chance to explain their points of view, or they can express them to others and wait for the judgements to get to the relevant party through the gossip chain, at which point they may be wildly distorted). My lovers’ resources include time, affection, and money, among other things. If I feel like I’ve got enough access to time, affection, and money (money being perhaps a special case that I’ll discuss a bit more below), I enjoy hearing stories about how such resources are used on someone else. I’m compersive. I’ve got enough context to understand the nuances, subtleties, or interesting quirks of what goes on in an interaction with someone else, and I enjoy hearing about the outcome. If I don’t feel like I’m getting enough resources, and I hear about them being used elsewhere, it just pokes at a feeling of emptiness that I may already have. It highlights the difference between potential (what resources are available) and reality (what I have). And that doesn’t feel good.
What if resources aren’t available? Then it’s fairly easy for me to deal with the difference between ideal (what I want) and reality (what I have). After all, lovers get busy (time), affection waxes and wanes, and money comes and goes. All of that is easy to handle. I can happily deal with being alone (time and affection), or eating ramen on a date (I graduated college, after all). What hurts is if these resources are available from a lover, but not for me. A busy lover chooses to spend time with someone else and doesn’t make time for me. Affection for me wanes while NRE is rampant with someone else. That’s what tends to hurt, not busy work schedules or relative poverty.
So what about money? I think it’s a special case because, much as it’s a topic of gossipy conversation, it’s not socially acceptable to express opinions on how other people invest their money (the exception being to one’s spouse). I often ask married couples out of curiosity how they deal with finances, and I’ve never gotten the same answer twice. There seem to be infinite ways to deal with money, depending on the couple’s personality. Perhaps because of the social taboo against opining on money spent between lovers, it doesn’t have the same emotional content or expectation that time and affection do for me.
But making the assumption that lovers do share a financial life, is money really that different from time and affection? After all, there are many individualized ways to deal with all of those resources.
Some couples pay into an account that’s used for joint activities and bills. The analogy for time/affection may be that they are the purview of each individual lover, and the couple just makes sure to invest enough in each other to keep things well maintained.
Some couples put everything into a joint account, except for an allowance (analogy: you may sleep with anyone you want on Tuesday nights, but everything else is for me).
Some keep all finances separate and negotiate bills as necessary (we are all individuals in this lovers’ scenario, and I may or may not be there for your experiences at a given moment).
And some just fight with each other (I want to use our resources on me and not on you).
So if my observation applies more broadly to people, and most of society goes around feeling jealous about their significant other(s), does that mean that a significant portion of society is running around not getting their needs met? That’s rhetorical for now, but it’s fairly self-explanatory that people aren’t jealous of those they don’t care about. Do we have rampant unmet expectations from those about whom we do care? And if so, is the culprit a general lack of relationship skills, or unreasonable expectations from said relationships? Maybe if it’s my unreasonable expectations, they can be managed to mitigate the effects of jealousy.
Because I feel like my marriage is a source of infinite resources (we’ve got all the time in the world together, there’s a ton of affection, and, well, we’ve historically managed to manage our money somehow), it’s very easy to not feel jealousy within that context. It’s the other relationships, where the emotional connection may be on a similar scale but time and distance affect expression of the other resources, where I’m more likely to feel jealous. I’ve heard that from a fair number of polyamorists, though I get the impression that it takes longer from the beginning of a new relationship for me to really care about the outcome than it takes others, so it requires a bit of longevity in a relationship for me to even get around to jealousy. After all, we only seem to want to control the people we care about.
*****
Questions or comments, or answers? I’m listening! Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
First off, my lovers will all point out that I react better to things when I’m well fed and slept. I’m already aware that I’m generous with my resources if I feel like I have enough of them (i.e. I’m pleasant to be around if my physical needs are met). Jealousy doesn’t so much involve my resources, but other peoples’. Similarly, though, I can be generous with other people’s resources if I feel like enough of them go to me.
Let’s work with the assumption that I have opinions on how other people use their resources (this wording may sound callous, but the truth is, people do have opinions about others’ choices, and they express them. They can express judgements to the relevant person and have a chance to explain their points of view, or they can express them to others and wait for the judgements to get to the relevant party through the gossip chain, at which point they may be wildly distorted). My lovers’ resources include time, affection, and money, among other things. If I feel like I’ve got enough access to time, affection, and money (money being perhaps a special case that I’ll discuss a bit more below), I enjoy hearing stories about how such resources are used on someone else. I’m compersive. I’ve got enough context to understand the nuances, subtleties, or interesting quirks of what goes on in an interaction with someone else, and I enjoy hearing about the outcome. If I don’t feel like I’m getting enough resources, and I hear about them being used elsewhere, it just pokes at a feeling of emptiness that I may already have. It highlights the difference between potential (what resources are available) and reality (what I have). And that doesn’t feel good.
What if resources aren’t available? Then it’s fairly easy for me to deal with the difference between ideal (what I want) and reality (what I have). After all, lovers get busy (time), affection waxes and wanes, and money comes and goes. All of that is easy to handle. I can happily deal with being alone (time and affection), or eating ramen on a date (I graduated college, after all). What hurts is if these resources are available from a lover, but not for me. A busy lover chooses to spend time with someone else and doesn’t make time for me. Affection for me wanes while NRE is rampant with someone else. That’s what tends to hurt, not busy work schedules or relative poverty.
So what about money? I think it’s a special case because, much as it’s a topic of gossipy conversation, it’s not socially acceptable to express opinions on how other people invest their money (the exception being to one’s spouse). I often ask married couples out of curiosity how they deal with finances, and I’ve never gotten the same answer twice. There seem to be infinite ways to deal with money, depending on the couple’s personality. Perhaps because of the social taboo against opining on money spent between lovers, it doesn’t have the same emotional content or expectation that time and affection do for me.
But making the assumption that lovers do share a financial life, is money really that different from time and affection? After all, there are many individualized ways to deal with all of those resources.
Some couples pay into an account that’s used for joint activities and bills. The analogy for time/affection may be that they are the purview of each individual lover, and the couple just makes sure to invest enough in each other to keep things well maintained.
Some couples put everything into a joint account, except for an allowance (analogy: you may sleep with anyone you want on Tuesday nights, but everything else is for me).
Some keep all finances separate and negotiate bills as necessary (we are all individuals in this lovers’ scenario, and I may or may not be there for your experiences at a given moment).
And some just fight with each other (I want to use our resources on me and not on you).
So if my observation applies more broadly to people, and most of society goes around feeling jealous about their significant other(s), does that mean that a significant portion of society is running around not getting their needs met? That’s rhetorical for now, but it’s fairly self-explanatory that people aren’t jealous of those they don’t care about. Do we have rampant unmet expectations from those about whom we do care? And if so, is the culprit a general lack of relationship skills, or unreasonable expectations from said relationships? Maybe if it’s my unreasonable expectations, they can be managed to mitigate the effects of jealousy.
Because I feel like my marriage is a source of infinite resources (we’ve got all the time in the world together, there’s a ton of affection, and, well, we’ve historically managed to manage our money somehow), it’s very easy to not feel jealousy within that context. It’s the other relationships, where the emotional connection may be on a similar scale but time and distance affect expression of the other resources, where I’m more likely to feel jealous. I’ve heard that from a fair number of polyamorists, though I get the impression that it takes longer from the beginning of a new relationship for me to really care about the outcome than it takes others, so it requires a bit of longevity in a relationship for me to even get around to jealousy. After all, we only seem to want to control the people we care about.
*****
Questions or comments, or answers? I’m listening! Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
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