One of my lovers (who’s normally very good at poly): What do you need me for? You’ve got all sorts of lovers.
Me: Yeah, but none of the others are you.
*****
What do you need multiple lovers for?
Selfishly, it’s to fill different needs or desires. More outwardly compassionately, it’s to relieve one of your lovers from filling a role they would prefer not to. If, like me, you don’t live with all of your lovers at once and instead spend time with each of them in turn (micro-serial monogamy), it might even have the benefit of keeping everyone in that puppy love stage where you never see quite enough of them, so you miss them in a flattering way and only see their good qualities when they’re around. Annoying little habits are less annoying when someone else you’re with doesn’t have them, and you don’t have to put up with them all the time.
So if one lover goes away, it might be a creature comfort to have another lover around to console you*, but there’s no replacing an individual#. The strange thing to me, which may not make sense to the monogamous, was how happy I always have been to be with a lover who was mourning the loss of another lover, even though I know the person they were longing for most strongly was decidedly not me.
My girlthing talks about “layers” of a relationship, as if a relationship were a Photoshop file that was beautiful in its completeness but could still be picked apart to have smaller complete aspects. When a lover has a romantic loss, I feel like I can easily pull out and use the friendship layer of the relationship and simply be there with them while they mope.
When I speak of “loss,” it’s not necessarily limited to a breakup. I’ve counseled only one lover through a full-fledged breakup, but there are other somewhat similar experiences. There was my girlthing’s spouse’s first extracurricular date, which might have been more novel than uncomfortable, at least until I opened up my mouth with exactly what she didn’t want to hear.
And there was the time my secondary’s longtime ex dramatically reclaimed some mementos, which, though not a breakup, had some of the same sucker-punching effects. Happily for me, my secondary correctly interpreted it when I sent him a care package of some mementos of my own. I wasn’t trying to replace the ex; I was just pointing out that there are others who care for him even if the ex doesn’t.
When I’m with one lover, I’m in a state of flow. I almost never wish I were with a different one (the odd exception being when I’m fighting with another one, and I just want to get that resolved so I can get on with my life). If I did habitually wish I were elsewhere, I’d take note of it, and that so far has led to the relatively few replacements# I have had. It probably helps that my lovers all have different glorious attributes, and they all make a unique contribution to my life. As my non-spousal primary puts it: you only need one drummer in the band.
So it may make sense that there’s a high barrier to entry into my life right now, even though I’m clearly capable of romantic love with more than my fair share of individuals. If a fair number of unique positive attributes are already represented in my lover-space, it’s going to take a lot of work to either find a space that’s not filled yet, or surpass a space that’s already occupied so I’m motivated to make more room.
And how is that particularly different from having a lot of friends?
______________________________________________________
*Here, I fully admit to being full of shit. I’ve yet to have my heart broken, so I don’t know what I’m talking about. And I’m pretty old, so I’ll probably be unsympathetic to the plight of most humans for the majority of my life. All that I’ve gathered is what I can figure out from the outward signs of loved ones who have had their hearts broken.
#You called it. I’m full of shit again. I can distinctly think of two lovers who were “replaced” in my life, with my own permission or design, by people whose positive qualities were similar but superior. I don’t miss the former lovers because I’m surrounded by people who are closer to my ideal, which probably makes me a jerk. So the downside of poly, I guess, is that you can be replaced by someone better who comes along. This is completely contrary to the ideal theory of polyamory, where one person cannot take away affection for another. My experience of the truth is... well, they don’t have to. But they might.
Me: Yeah, but none of the others are you.
*****
What do you need multiple lovers for?
Selfishly, it’s to fill different needs or desires. More outwardly compassionately, it’s to relieve one of your lovers from filling a role they would prefer not to. If, like me, you don’t live with all of your lovers at once and instead spend time with each of them in turn (micro-serial monogamy), it might even have the benefit of keeping everyone in that puppy love stage where you never see quite enough of them, so you miss them in a flattering way and only see their good qualities when they’re around. Annoying little habits are less annoying when someone else you’re with doesn’t have them, and you don’t have to put up with them all the time.
So if one lover goes away, it might be a creature comfort to have another lover around to console you*, but there’s no replacing an individual#. The strange thing to me, which may not make sense to the monogamous, was how happy I always have been to be with a lover who was mourning the loss of another lover, even though I know the person they were longing for most strongly was decidedly not me.
My girlthing talks about “layers” of a relationship, as if a relationship were a Photoshop file that was beautiful in its completeness but could still be picked apart to have smaller complete aspects. When a lover has a romantic loss, I feel like I can easily pull out and use the friendship layer of the relationship and simply be there with them while they mope.
When I speak of “loss,” it’s not necessarily limited to a breakup. I’ve counseled only one lover through a full-fledged breakup, but there are other somewhat similar experiences. There was my girlthing’s spouse’s first extracurricular date, which might have been more novel than uncomfortable, at least until I opened up my mouth with exactly what she didn’t want to hear.
And there was the time my secondary’s longtime ex dramatically reclaimed some mementos, which, though not a breakup, had some of the same sucker-punching effects. Happily for me, my secondary correctly interpreted it when I sent him a care package of some mementos of my own. I wasn’t trying to replace the ex; I was just pointing out that there are others who care for him even if the ex doesn’t.
When I’m with one lover, I’m in a state of flow. I almost never wish I were with a different one (the odd exception being when I’m fighting with another one, and I just want to get that resolved so I can get on with my life). If I did habitually wish I were elsewhere, I’d take note of it, and that so far has led to the relatively few replacements# I have had. It probably helps that my lovers all have different glorious attributes, and they all make a unique contribution to my life. As my non-spousal primary puts it: you only need one drummer in the band.
So it may make sense that there’s a high barrier to entry into my life right now, even though I’m clearly capable of romantic love with more than my fair share of individuals. If a fair number of unique positive attributes are already represented in my lover-space, it’s going to take a lot of work to either find a space that’s not filled yet, or surpass a space that’s already occupied so I’m motivated to make more room.
And how is that particularly different from having a lot of friends?
______________________________________________________
*Here, I fully admit to being full of shit. I’ve yet to have my heart broken, so I don’t know what I’m talking about. And I’m pretty old, so I’ll probably be unsympathetic to the plight of most humans for the majority of my life. All that I’ve gathered is what I can figure out from the outward signs of loved ones who have had their hearts broken.
#You called it. I’m full of shit again. I can distinctly think of two lovers who were “replaced” in my life, with my own permission or design, by people whose positive qualities were similar but superior. I don’t miss the former lovers because I’m surrounded by people who are closer to my ideal, which probably makes me a jerk. So the downside of poly, I guess, is that you can be replaced by someone better who comes along. This is completely contrary to the ideal theory of polyamory, where one person cannot take away affection for another. My experience of the truth is... well, they don’t have to. But they might.
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