The Unbearable Lightness of Being Open: Strategies for Coping with Anxiety

Dear Viny,

I am generally an anxious person, and learning to love myself is a struggle, but one I am fighting with every day.

One source of my anxiety at the moment is my open relationship with my partner. We've been together two years and despite being open, neither of us have taken advantage of this freedom. I know my partner wants to but he hasn't found the time to go out and find someone he likes. He's recently started socialising more, which has resulted in me having small panic attacks and stropping at signs of rejection due to built up anxiety. I'm acknowledging the anxiety but still struggling with lashing out at my partner. It's not nice for him and is ruining an otherwise good relationship.

Do you have any tools for dealing this kind of fear and anxiety?

Thank you,
An Anxious Heart

***

Dear Anxious,

Fear and anxiety are my least favorite emotions, hands down. They're kind of like the flu: a common, contagious, completely miserable waste of precious time. I'm sorry you are struggling, and I commend you for your courage and insight. You're wise to realize that learning to love yourself is the only permanent cure for what ails you.

Learning to love yourself may take a very long time – your entire life, perhaps. And that is okay: there is no task more worth your while. Just be patient with yourself. Take it one day at a time. Take it one minute at a time. If you need to, take it one millisecond at a time. That's all I can really tell you about the process, because learning to love yourself is something only you can do. I can't do it for you. Your partner can't do it for you. You're on your own, baby. Bon voyage.

In the meantime, however, I do have some practical tips about how to manage your anxiety and mitigate the fear that's fueling it.

1. Get plenty of exercise. When you are feeling anxious and jittery, the best thing you can do is give all that nervous energy a physical outlet. Go running, go dancing, go swimming, go walking – it doesn't matter what you do, just get your body moving. Give your heart a good reason to race, on a regular basis, and it will be more likely to cooperate when you really need a rest.

2. Give your brain something better to do. Whenever you find yourself obsessing – What is my partner doing right now? When will he come home? What if he doesn't? What if he doesn't love me, what if he's never really loved me, what if no one will ever love me? – you need to find something else to think about. In the same way that a border collie kept confined in a small back yard will get into trouble, digging hole after hole in a desperate attempt to keep itself occupied, your overactive brain will continue to be a nuisance unless you give it something useful to do. Make sure that the job is both demanding and doable, the mental equivalent of waitressing at a pancake restaurant packed with picky eaters. Whatever it is, it needs to occupy as much of your attention as possible. In a pinch, try reading aloud to yourself.

3. Widen your perspective. This is a vague platitude, I know, so let me tell you a story to illustrate what I mean. About a year and a half ago, one of my life partners went on a vacation with an ex-girlfriend of his. I should mention here that this particular ex is still a very big part of his life: she lives with him whenever she's in town, which amounts to about half the year, and even though they are no longer romantically involved with each other, they have always enjoyed an emotionally close, physically affectionate relationship. Also, I really, really like this woman. She's a wonderful person, and I consider her a friend. So, I had no problem whatsoever with her and my partner going on a trip together. In fact, I was delighted that the two of them would be getting to spend some quality time together – and I did understand that sex was a possibility, albeit a remote one. All in all, not a setup for extreme anxiety, right? Wrong. On the day they were supposed to return, I got a panicked call from my partner's wife: Where were our two vacationers? Weren't they supposed to be back hours ago? Now I was concerned, too. She and I fretted for two or three hours, getting more and more freaked out as time dragged on, neither of us daring to voice the concern we shared: had there been an accident? Finally, we got a text saying sorry, there had been no cell reception until now, but they were on their way. About five minutes later, a long email from my partner came through – a lovely missive, all about the wonderful time they'd had, and how much he'd missed me, and oh yes, they'd had sex, and he felt good about it, and she felt good about it, and wasn't that great? Under normal circumstances, I would have experienced a sharp twinge of jealousy, taken a deep breath, and moved on. However, my system was still overloaded with cortisol from all the hours I'd spent worrying that my lover and one of his dearest friends had died in a car crash, and I would be called in to identify the bodies. That jealous twinge just kept on twinging, getting louder and louder. It was past bedtime – in fact, my husband was already in bed with the lights out – but I didn't think I would be able to sleep. I got into bed anyway, and lay there hyperventilating for what seemed like a million years, but was probably only ten minutes. Then I announced to the ceiling, “So, they did end up having sex.” There was a pause, as my poor husband's consciousness swam up from its peaceful slumber, and then I heard a sleepy voice say, “That's great!” I don't know what I'd expected to hear, but it wasn't that. “It's great?” I asked, incredulous. “Yeah,” he said, “Good for them!” And bless his heart, he was absolutely right: it was good for them. I just hadn't been able to see it, because I'd been so wrapped up in whether it might turn out to be bad for me.

4. Focus on the love you're giving instead of worrying about the love you're (not) getting. When your partner is off socializing without you, it's not going to do you a lot of good to sit at home pouting, or “stropping” (thanks for the new term, which must be a British-ism – I had to look it up on Urban Dictionary!). One suggestion would be to get out there and do some socializing yourself. However, there's a potential danger: if you're looking for external validation, hoping that positive attention from others will lift you out of your funk, you are likely to see rejection everywhere you look. Instead, try approaching your interactions with other people as an opportunity to be of service to them. For example, let's say you and your partner are at a party together. He's chatting people up and having a grand old time, whereas you are not. You know your partner isn't being an asshole; you know he's not ignoring you on purpose; you know he'd love nothing more than for you to enjoy the party, too. Nevertheless, you're feeling like a total loser, and you're angry at yourself for feeling this way, and you're angry at your partner because you're angry at yourself. In a situation like this, leaving the party will only make you feel worse, and dancing on the table in a desperate bid for attention will likely land you on your ass. Instead, see whether the host(ess) needs help mixing drinks or washing dishes, or find someone who looks a little lost and introduce them to someone you know. When you're feeling bad about yourself, focusing on others may not make you feel great, but it will definitely make you feel better.

5. Don't fight your feelings. No matter how busy you keep your brain and body, there will be times when you are overcome by negative emotions. Like physical pain, emotional pain is a “pay attention” signal. Sometimes, there's a damn good reason for this signal – you are touching a hot coal, say, or your appendix is about to burst – but sometimes your nerves are just randomly firing. In either case, though, resenting the pain will only increase your suffering. Just accept your emotions, even the unpleasant ones. Feel what you feel, and when you're ready, let the feeling go. (I have given this advice to other people in situations like yours; for example, take a look at my post on Letting Go in Open Relationships.) The bottom line is this: when you stop hating your anxiety, you can stop hating yourself for being an anxious person.

Alas, Anxious, it's getting late in the day, and I have black bean ragout with garlicky toasts and cumin crema to make, so it's time for me to sign off. I hope these suggestions are of some use to you. Of course, there's a caveat, because we have not really addressed the elephant in the room: namely, the fact that it is unclear whether or not you actually want to be in an open relationship. You say that neither you nor your partner has “taken advantage” of your agreement to be open. You say you know he wants to, that the only reason he hasn't is lack of time – but do you want to? Why did you agree to an open relationship in the first place? If this is something he wanted, and you agreed only because you didn't think he would be with you if you said no, or because you didn't feel you deserved to say no, or because you secretly hoped that he would change his mind and that would finally furnish you with irresistible, incontrovertible proof that you are a person worthy of love...well, my dear, beware: you're mired deep in self-sabotage, and you may need professional help to get out. Take good care of yourself, and best of luck.

Biscuits and Buskins,
Viny

Where Did My Libido Go?: Strategies for Dealing with Lack of Desire

Dear Viny,

Do you happen to know of any aphrodisiacs? My husband and I have a good relationship. We love each other. But we can go months without having sex. Part of the problem may be that we let our five-year-old sleep with us for the first three years, and I think we just got into a habit of not going there. However, the bigger problem is that my libido is totally dead at this point. It's like I'm a eunuch. For a while I thought it might be the progesterone in my IUD causing a hormonal issue, so I had it taken out. But that didn't help. I'm still not interested. I want to fix this problem, because it's becoming a stressor in my relationship with my husband. If you have any suggestions that do not involve opening up our marriage, I would love to hear them.

Sincerely,
Wishing I Wanted It More

***
  

Dear Wishing,

You know what I wish? I wish I had the patent on some pill or magic potion that would induce sexual desire in women. No need for a retirement plan: I'd be set for life. There are a lot of ladies out there who struggle with low libido. (You know, it's really too bad that the most powerful aphrodisiacs I know of -- namely, jealousy and NRE, or new relationship energy -- are so often contraindicated. Just sayin'.)

According to Women's Health Network, "Women in long-term relationships -- even satisfying ones -- are often the most challenged by lack of baseline desire." Please note the ambiguous phrasing: are women in long-term relationships more likely to experience lack of desire, or are they simply more likely to have a problem with their lack of desire? After all, a single woman who doesn't feel like having sex is mercifully off the hooking-up hook, and can just relax and appreciate the fact that she's free to focus on other pursuits. A partnered woman who doesn't feel like having sex, on the other hand, probably has a pissed-off partner.

So I would like to suggest that the first thing you do, Wishing, is try to determine whether your lack of desire is actually a problem for you, or whether it's only a problem for you because it's a problem for your partner. In other words, would you still be unhappy about your lackluster libido if your husband were totally happy without sex?

If you're really okay with where your libido is right now – on possibly perma-vacay, somewhere without cell reception or reliable mail delivery – but you are worried that lack of sexual intimacy is having a negative effect on your relationship, here is my advice: Tell your husband the truth about how you feel. Sexual intimacy, like every other form of intimacy, requires authenticity. You're going to have to 'fess up about the fact that not only are you feeling fine without sex, you're feeling fine without desire. You and your husband will then have to decide how you want to proceed based on this baseline truth about you. It's possible that you are asexual or demisexual; I recommend researching these terms to see if they resonate with you. But no matter how you choose to describe yourself, please remember that your sexuality is not the problem. The problem is that a sexual mismatch exists between you and your partner. Fortunately, there are many strategies for dealing with this kind of mismatch. Unfortunately, none of them will be successful unless you and your partner can first come to a place of acceptance and understanding. You may want to consult a trained sex therapist or couples counselor.

If, on the other hand, you just don't feel like yourself these days, if you keep looking in the mirror going, “Who are you, and what the fuck have you done with my libido?!”, then you actually have a more easily-solved problem: all you have to do is locate your somnambulating sex drive, and gently coax her back to bed, where she belongs – that is, whenever she's not getting steamy in the shower, or luxuriating in the bath, or sitting pretty on the sofa, or rolling around on the floor in front of the fireplace, or yodeling from the topmost branches of the cherry tree in your neighbor's back yard, etc.

Yeah, right, you're thinking. Easy-peasy, pie & cheesy.

It may seem like I'm making light of your situation, Wishing, and it's true that I'm teasing you, just a little. But I'm actually trying to demonstrate something I feel is important: a light touch may be exactly what's called for here. When you take your troubles too seriously, spending all your emotional energy trying to ferret out causes and contributing factors, dwelling on the negative, feeling inadequate and defensive and resentful and anxious, you don't have any juice left over for juiciness. Desire doesn't stand a chance when stress and distress are hogging all your attention.

No, I'm not saying you should ignore the issue and pretend everything's fine. What I'm saying is that you can't force desire. You have to tease it back into your life, little by little. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to seduce yourself.

Here's my specially patented, step-by-step guide, in case you need help with the how-to part:

Step 1: Read some books about sex. Given your particular situation, I highly recommend Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, by Mary Roach; The Erotic Mind, by Jack Morin; and Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence, by Esther Perel. I learned a lot about myself and my sexuality by reading these books, and my hope is that you will, too.

Step 2: Watch sexy movies. If porn seems at all interesting or appealing to you, then go for it, obviously – but I'm guessing that right now you'll get more bang for your buck from films with less banging and bucking. I don't know what sights would be most likely to get you shifting in your seat, but here are a few random movies with scenes that I personally found very, um, memorable: Sex, Lies, and Videotape; Brokeback Mountain; Secretary; Blue Is the Warmest Color; The Piano; Under the Sun; and Bliss.

Step 3: After reading books about sex and watching sexy movies, try watching movies about sex and reading sexy books. Attend a sexy dance performance. Go to an exhibition of erotic art. Write about sex, talk about sex, think about sex – you get the point.

Step 4: Notice what comes up for you, now that you are actively engaging with the topic in ways that are meant to be purely informative and/or entertaining. If you experience a lot of psychological resistance during steps 1-3, then you may need professional help: please take care of yourself, and see a therapist. If you don't experience any emotional or psychological blocks that make it difficult to think about sex, at least in the abstract, but everything you used to find sexy now fails to elicit even the tiniest twinge or tingle of possible arousal, then you may need medical attention: please take care of yourself, and see a doctor. If steps 1-3 are mostly enjoyable for you, and seem to be reviving your interest, at least somewhat, then your libido is not dead: please move right on to step number five, and congratulations on a successful seduction!

Step 5: Develop a good relationship with your libido. Be sweet. Don't immediately saddle her up with a lot of heavy duties and obligations (“Okay, now that you've perked up a bit, it's time to make up for five months of spousal neglect!”). Let go of any guilt you may have around self-pleasuring. Give yourself permission to be a sexual being, even when no one else but you gets to benefit. Have faith that the good vibes will spill over into your relationship eventually. Give yourself the time you need, and feel your way back slowly (Omg, doesn't that sound so delish? Hmmm, maybe I need to take a little break from writing!...).

Step 6: Experiment, experiment, experiment! Buy one of those cheesy books with suggestions for revving up your lagging love life, and read it out loud to your partner in a cheesy accent while you both eat cheese puffs in bed. Play a game in which you and your husband each have to get yourself off secretly, at some point during a given day, and then at the end of the day, the other person has to guess when and where the deed took place. Make it a rule that for the next two months, you can only have sex in the coat closet while wearing fake fur and faux diamonds, on weekdays, at precisely 11:17 p.m. The exact design of the experiment doesn't matter. Don't stress over the details. Just try some new things, and make a note of what you find out. Sometimes, what you find out is that the experiment was a total failure – and that's okay! (Here's an example of a failed sexperiment from the annals of my own life: once, a few years into our marriage, dutifully following the instructions in some sexpert's book, my husband and I each placed three strips of clear tape in various places on our own body; the other person was supposed to find the pieces of tape by touch alone. We performed this exercise with the utmost solemnity, even though we both felt ridiculous during the whole rigamarole. Not sexy. Oh, well.)

Step 7: Reflect on what you've learned by doing steps 1-6.

Okay, luscious lady, it's time for you to start getting busy on getting just a little bit busier! Do let me know how it goes: I'll expect a detailed report in, oh, six months or so.... ;-) 

 

Saffron and Spice,

Viny

Casual Honesty: Can I Chat with My Hair Stylist about Polyamory?

Dear Viny,

I'm balls deep in poly and have been in a stable situation for over eight years now. There's always the question of whether or not to disclose this to new friends, dentists or hair stylists. Do I feel compelled to out myself? No.

But, I have made some significant life changes in the last year that make my personal life a non-issue in my professional life (working entirely online). It has been very freeing and frankly, a relief.

That being said, I get tired of dancing around the issue or being intentionally vague. When I climb onto the massage table and my therapist says "How was your weekend?", I want to be honest.

Can I? Should I? Do I shut the fuck up and say as little as possible? What say you on the topic of being casually honest?

Sincerely,

Red State Romeo

***

Dear Romeo,

Casual Honesty sounds like a winning pony to me! Saddle her up and take her for a run! After all, what have you got to lose?

I can just picture you, reclining in a powder-blue chair with a goofy bib clipped under your chin, while the dentist squints at your chart, distractedly snapping her latex gloves. She asks you about your weekend, not because she gives a crap, but because customer satisfaction surveys have indicated that people really want to be asked asinine questions about themselves, even when their mouths are stuffed so full of cotton gauze they can't utter a single intelligible syllable in reply. Luckily, there's nothing in your mouth yet. “Oh, wow, I had the most fantastic weekend,” you enthuse, “Me 'n' Snuggles 'n' Sara, along with some of the other sweeties in our little love-tribe, won the Lube Lick-off at Polypalooza!” The dentist looks at you with furrowed brows. “Did you know that lubricants can be very damaging to your enamel?” Then she pulls out the biggest syringe she can find, and commands, “Open wide!”

Yeah, as long as you can deal with a wee bit of discomfort, I see no reason why you shouldn't answer a casual question with casual honesty. If it's socially acceptable for a monogamous person to say, “I had a great weekend! I introduced my boyfriend to the whole fam damily, and my parents just loved him!”, then it should be acceptable for a polyamorous person to say the same thing: “I introduced my new boyfriend...and my [wife/husband/wife and husband/other partners/tribe/whatever labels work for your situation] just loved him!” Of course, it isn't acceptable yet, but it should be, and you can do your part to make it more acceptable by behaving as though it is. When you respond to a polite question with a polite-but-scandalous reply, you effectively shift the parameters of what you are allowed to mention in polite conversation.

This kind of honesty has a light touch, and most likely won't be perceived as a threat. Your matter-of-fact, “this is what my life is like” disclosures may get met with some looks of blank incomprehension, or perhaps raised eyebrows and requests for clarification, which would then result in either A) communication shut-down, or B) lots and lots of questions, but my guess is that, particularly when dealing with people in the service or caring professions, you won't see a lot of overt hostility. Think about it this way: whether or not your hair stylist or massage therapist approves of your lifestyle, you have just given him or her a really great story to tell the next client or the folks back home. If bad comes to worse, and things get super awkward, or they refuse to let you book another appointment, so what? There are plenty of savvier businesspeople out there who will gladly accept your money. With any luck, they'll have personal views more in line with your own.

So yes, Romeo, I think you can be casually honest. Moreover, I think you should be. Why? Because you have so little to lose by saying what you want to say, when you want to say it. There are still so many people out there who can't be honest about who they are and how they've chosen to live their lives. They have a lot more to lose – their kids, their job, their social standing, their legal rights – and they have decided they can't risk it. People like you can make the world a safer place for people like them.

Casual honesty is a luxury. If you can afford it, I say enjoy the hell out of it. You'll be doing us all a big favor.

Teparies and peccaries,

Viny

Advice for Polyamorous Parents: When and How to Tell the Kids

Dear Viny,

My husband and I are new to polyamory, and we have two girls, ages two and six. Much of the reading we've done has not mentioned the subject of children or families. We are wondering when to tell our children about our decision to open our marriage, and how to tell them in a culture in which we fear they may be ostracized or worse. Do you have thoughts/advice about how to manage this issue?

Thanks,

A Poly Mama

***

Dear Poly Mama,

A few weeks ago, I was at a reading of Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert's More Than Two: A practical guide to ethical polyamory (which is an absolutely stellar book, btw, and if you're new to poly, you simply must get your hands on a copy a.s.a.p. – you can buy one here or on Amazon). During the Q & A session after the reading, someone in the audience piped up with the same question you just asked me. Eve and Franklin responded that unfortunately they didn't feel qualified to weigh in on the subject of poly and parenting, because neither or them had any children. And I thought to myself, “Ah, so that's how you managed to write 400+ pages, bundle them into a beautiful book, publish the damn thing, and tool around the country for two months promoting it!”

Okay, I'm a little jealous. I mean envious. Whatever. In all seriousness, though: I do think there is a comparative lack of information on polyamory and parenting, and I suspect that the reason for this is that poly parents are not the ones writing the books. And why not? Why are we, as a group, so deplorably under-represented among the glitterati? I'm sure I don't need to explain it to you, since you have young children – but for those readers who don't have kids, allow me to point out that in the course of writing this paragraph, I have been interrupted no fewer than four times by my six-year-old. She and her little friend now have tortilla chips, salsa, a glass of milk, and a glass of water in front of them – which may keep them busy for a few... nope, I was wrong. Make that five times. (“Mom? Where'd those vampire teeth go? I wanna show Al!”) But I digress. The point I'm trying to make is that writing a book takes time and concentration, both of which are in short supply in households like mine. (And...we're up to eight times now, just for the record.) Yes, it's true that plenty of writers have managed to publish books despite being beset by minor technical difficulties like the ones currently running around my living room. In fact, I know several such miracle-workers personally. However, when it comes to publishing on the specific topic of polyamory and parenting, there's a far bigger obstacle in our way: fear of public scrutiny. As poly parents, we're hesitant to call attention to ourselves, lest the Eye of Sauron alight on our little ones.

Public perceptions of polyamory and other forms of consensual non-monogamy are changing for the better, but the threat of social censure is still very real. Many people assume that children do best in a “Leave It to Beaver” type of family; in their minds, parents who choose an alternative relationship structure are putting their own selfish desires ahead of their children's wellbeing. Thus, in some social circles, coming out as poly means running the risk of being judged an unfit parent. And that, my lascivious lovely, is why I write under a pseudonym – not because I'm worried about my name, but because I'm worried about my children. I mean, what if some yo-yo out there decides my kids would be better off in foster care?

All this to say: I understand your concern, Poly Mama. I really do. That being said, I feel strongly that parenting decisions should be guided by love rather than fear.

And now, without further preamble, here are my thoughts about when – and how – to tell your kids you're polyamorous.

1) Let your children's questions set the pace. Given that your girls are six and two, there is no need to make any kind of “announcement” for their benefit. This is great, because parental announcements are awkward, and best avoided. If your kids are anything like mine, they will ask enough questions over the years that you'll never have to trot out some cringe-worthy opening salvo like, “Kids? There's something your father and I need to tell you....”

2) When your children ask you questions, give them honest answers. Your two-year-old probably won't have any questions yet. But I can pretty much guarantee that your six-year-old will want to know all kinds of things: where you're going, what you're doing, whom you're doing it with, etc. Be candid in your replies – but don't offer more information than she can process.

By way of illustration, here's an exchange I had with my daughter just the other day, as I was preparing for a night out:

Sienna: Why are you getting dressed up? Where are you going?

Me: I'm going out with Cam tonight.

Sienna: Why do you need to wear a pretty bra? Cam's not gonna see it, is he?

Me: He might.

Sienna: Has he seen you naked??!

Me: Sure.

Sienna [shrieks in mock horror, then moves on, apparently unfazed]: Can I play Minecraft?

3) Pay attention to non-verbal cues, because some questions won't be asked out loud. There may be times when your children would benefit from a more in-depth discussion, or when they are looking for some reassurance, but they don't know how to ask you for what they need. If one of your children seems to be “fishing” for information, expresses confusion or anxiety around a particular topic, or simply seems upset, try to figure out what's bothering her, so that you can help her articulate her concerns.

Here's an example of another conversation I had with my daughter, a few months ago:

Sienna: Who do you love more, Daddy or Cam?

Me: I love them both the same amount.

Sienna: Then how come you kiss Cam more?

Me [surprised]: Do I? I don't think that's true.

Sienna: Yes, you do. And that's not fair. 'Cuz if you love them the same amount, then you should kiss them the same amount.

Me: But I love you and your brother the same amount, and I kiss you more than I kiss him, right?

Sienna: That's because Denali hates being kissed.

Me: Excellent point! Well, hmm. You seem really concerned about this. Are you worried that I love Cam more than Daddy? Are you worried that I'm hurting Daddy's feelings?

Sienna: Yes.

Me: I see. I don't think you need to worry about that, sweetheart. Daddy knows I love him tons and tons.

In a similar vein, if your child is normally talkative, an uncharacteristic lack of questions may be your cue to initiate a conversation, even if there is no overt evidence of distress. You may need to probe a little bit, and not simply assume that your child will broach a difficult topic on her own. When my son was nine years old, he and I had the following conversation, after I noticed that he had virtually nothing to say the day after my husband and his new girlfriend had spent the night together at our house:

Me: You're awfully quiet today. Was it weird that Lilianna had a sleepover with your dad?

Denali: A little, yeah. [Pause.] Was it okay with you that she slept over?

Me: Sure.

Denali: Even though she and Parker slept in the same bed?

Me: Of course.

Denali: You knew they were going to sleep in the same bed?

Me: I figured they would, yeah.

Denali: And... that was okay with you?

Me: Yeah.

Denali: Even if they didn't have clothes on?

Me: What makes you think they didn't have clothes on?

Denali: It sounded like they were getting dressed. In the morning.

Me: Oh. Well, I told Parker beforehand that whatever he and Lilianna wanted to do during their sleepover was fine with me. Were you worried that I would be upset if I found out they were naked? Did you think maybe I didn't know that might happen?

Denali: I wasn't sure.

Me: Parker and I talked about everything, sweetie, and I'm fine. Are you still worried?

Denali: No, if you're fine, I'm fine. I was just checking.

Me: I'm glad you checked. So let me ask you something – remember how I used to have sleepovers all the time with Scott? And that didn't seem to bother you. You never seemed to worry about it, or whether your dad was okay with it. So, I guess I'm wondering why you would be worried about me not being okay with Parker having a sleepover.

Denali: Wait...let me get this straight... Scott was your boyfriend?

Me: Yeah, what did you think he was?

Denali: I don't know. I didn't think about it. I was a little kid. He was just... Scott.

Me: All those years? The time he came to visit us in Denmark, and your dad was gone for a week on that architecture trip? Kissing each other goodbye, and not just on the cheek? You seriously didn't know?

Denali [shrugging]: I'm telling you – I didn't think anything of it. Huh. Wow. Scott was your boyfriend. A lot of things are suddenly making sense to me now!

{Note: Because I'm a mother giving advice to another mother, I feel the need to point out that I haven't shared these conversations because I think they showcase my parenting skills at their absolute finest. (Actually, I can hear that panel of snooty Parenting Experts from On High tsk-tsking as I type, going “overly-directive here!” and “overly-dismissive there!” Sheesh!) No, I've shared these conversations because I wanted to provide some examples of the kinds of questions your children might ask, and because I hope my responses demonstrate that it is possible to encourage open dialogue without getting into details that may not be age-appropriate.}

4) Do not ask your children to keep secrets for you. In an ideal world, children could repeat any conversation they have with their parents to anyone else, verbatim, and the worst outcome would be mild embarrassment, or a not-so-surprising “surprise” party, or something along those lines. However, we do not live in an ideal world, and if there is a piece of information your children absolutely must not repeat, do not share it with them. If being unintentionally “outed” as poly by your children would be a disaster – that is, if it would put you and/or your children at risk of social censure, or worse – you will need to be careful about what you say, and how you say it. And, of course, you will also need to be careful about what you do, and when you do it! (In other words: Don't have sleepovers. Don't kiss your other partners in front of your kids. You get the idea.) But no matter where you fall on the spectrum from “completely in the closet, with a kid-proof lock on the door” to “totally out in the open, napping naked in the sunshine,” your children are bound to have questions at some point, and I think you should answer them as honestly as you can. Perhaps you will have to omit certain details, or evade certain lines of inquiry, but do not lie. Human beings come equipped with incredibly sophisticated lie-detecting machinery, and even very young humans can often sense when someone isn't being straight with them. Please don't give your children cause to distrust you. If you cannot think of any way to answer a question honestly, and you cannot change the subject gracefully, simply say, “I'm sorry, honey, but I can't answer that question.” And when your child presses you for a reason why not, as she no doubt will, explain to her that some information is private. It's perfectly okay to ask your children for privacy. It's not okay to lie to them, or to tell them the truth only on condition that they keep it to themselves. Secrecy is too big a burden for a small child to bear. 

5) Find opportunities to point out that relationships can take many different forms, and talk with your kids about different kinds of families. With each of your children, there will come a Right Time to have The Conversation. I don't think there's a way to predict when that will be, exactly. Raising children is one of those “mileage may vary” deals, as I'm sure you're well aware. Our son was nine when the light bulb came on, so that's when we introduced him to the term “polyamory.” I suspect we'll be talking to our daughter a little bit sooner than that, or possibly a lot sooner – who knows? We'll have to wait and see. In the meantime, though, we've discussed all kinds of relationship-related topics with her. She knows that families come in all shapes and sizes. She is beginning to understand that social norms vary from culture to culture, that they tend to change over time, and that she need not allow them to dictate which path she takes in life. When the time comes for us to spell out for her all the ways in which her own family does not fit the traditional mold, she'll already have the context she'll need to make sense of that information, and the confidence she'll need to deal with the social consequences of sharing it, should she choose to do so. At any rate, this is how we approached things with our son, and he turned out great! (He's officially an adult now, which means I get to make official declarations about how he turned out – but if you'd rather hear him speak for himself, you can check out this guest post he wrote four years ago, at age fourteen, about what it's been like to grow up with parents whose relationship choices have placed them well outside the monogamous mainstream.)

Well, Poly Mama, I think this is a wrap. There's only so much advice you can stuff into one bitty burrito, you know? Maybe one of these days, I'll get around to writing a book, or editing a collection of essays, or at least contributing something more substantial to the still-developing public discourse on the unique challenges and rewards of being a polyamorous parent. Or maybe I won't. Either way, I get to rest on the greenest, glossiest, most gorgeously lucky laurels out there: my two brave, bright, beautiful, curious, open, thoughtful, socially-savvy children. May you be as blessed!

Coffee spoons and harvest moons,

Viny

"We're Poly, She's Not": The Problem with Poly-Mono Pairings (And Why Exercising Veto Power Isn't the Solution)

Dear Viny,

My husband came back from Burning Man having connected with a longtime mutual friend of ours. The problem? We're poly and she's not. Admittedly, I have my own triggers about his relationships because his last one was spectacularly one-for-the-record-books bad. This time around, we've made a serious effort to do things right and I'm feeling supported and assured. 

We met her at the same time so she's very much *our* friend. Therefore, there is none of the “you're-befriending-me-because-you-want-to-bone-my-husband” worry, and this is good. Up until recently, she was in a long term relationship and we had, in passing, conversations about our "lifestyle" (I hate this word because it sounds like we spend excessive time agonizing at the grocery store about which vegetables are appropriate for insertion. Nevertheless, it's probably the correct word for the situation).  

She is giving the situation a lot of thought because the idea of poly interferes with her long time supposed goals for herself. (I say supposed because she's at the age where you start being really honest with yourself about what you actually want vs. what you always thought you wanted... or would want.) I commend her for recognizing the gravity of the situation and not taking it lightly. 

She and DH have had many talks about it and she and I finally got together recently to discuss things. To put it bluntly, I am nervous about the prospect of her overcoming her resistance to poly just because she has feelings for my awesome spouse. In order for her to do this, she has to "get over" his having a wife. While I recognize it isn't specifically personal because she likes me and we get along, it still IS personal because my husband and I have spent most of our adult lives together and we *are* part of each other. 

Tell me, oh storied one...  Are there poly monsters under my bed?  Am I fussing over nothing? 

Yours truly,
Perturbed in P-town

***

Dear Perturbed,

You're not fussing over nothing. Your letter gave me a quick peek behind that oh-so-chic dust ruffle of yours, and I'm pretty sure you've got something furry and clawed hiding under your bed.

No, it's not the cat. And it's not the fabled green-eyed monster of jealousy, either, because that particular critter is curled up on top of your bed, in plain sight, along with the hard-nosed monster of cynicism and the thin-skinned monster of insecurity. As you know, a monster you've tamed isn't a monster at all. The puppy-pile of nuisances napping on your afghan isn't what's freaking you out, because those are the issues you've already identified, and you obviously already know how to deal with them when they arise.

I don't have a clever name for the monster currently keeping you up at night, but I can try to describe some of its characteristics. It has big eyes, big ears, and fuzzy boundaries. Commonly found under the beds of people whose lives are entwined with those of others, it feeds on a very specific kind of fear, which is this: someone I love is about to fuck up.

I can see why you would be worried that the romance developing between Dear Husband and your mutual friend might turn out to be a mistake. Your friend's “resistance to poly” is a huge red flag. Yes, she is in the process of re-evaluating who she is and what she wants, so it's possible that she will end up deciding she wants to be in a relationship with your husband – not in spite of you, but partly because of you! – which would be groovy as all git-out. Or, she might decide that while she herself prefers to be monogamous, she is perfectly happy sharing your husband with you. However, it seems somewhat more likely that she will end up deciding she really is monogamous by nature, and would prefer to be in a monogamous relationship. Which would be decidedly less groovy.

The reason why so many poly people have a “poly-only” dating policy is because they have experienced first-hand the many miserable ways in which a poly-mono pairing can devolve into drama and dysfunction. I was once in love with a man who took seven and a half tumultuous years to realize an important truth about himself, which was (to quote him verbatim): “I can't be healthy around you when I have romantic feelings for you and you are in a poly lifestyle.” Either I had to let go of my lifestyle, or I had to let go of him. Since my “lifestyle” at that time included a husband, a new lover, a metamour whose friendship I really valued, a set of personal convictions, an ideology, an identity, and a future in which I would be free to nourish other intimate connections and express my sexuality however I chose, with whomever I chose – well, I did the only sane thing. I let him go. And I vowed I would never again allow myself to become romantically involved with someone who could not accept me as I am.

I didn't share this story in the hopes that your husband will learn from my example and nip this new relationship in the bud, before it has a chance to get all overblown and blowsy. I shared it to explain why I am pessimistic about the chances of a poly-mono pairing working out long-term, and why I can understand your fussing. If one of my partners fell in love with someone whose response to the burgeoning romance was something along the lines of, “Too bad you're not single! Oh, well...I'll try to overlook that Viny person...for now,” I would be crawling the walls. I would be sorely tempted to put both my feet down: “So sorry, honeybee, but it's a definite ix-nay on this one. Trust me: been there, done that, and it's a disaster. I can't stand by and watch you get hurt.”

Yes, if I were in your situation, and I had veto power, I would be tempted to use it. And this is precisely why I don't have veto power in my relationships: I don't want to be tempted. In my opinion, the concept of veto power does not belong in intimate relationships between equals.

I realize this is a controversial statement. Many poly couples explicitly include veto power in their relationship agreements. Unfortunately, I don't have enough time right now to go into the well-reasoned disquisition this topic deserves, but I will say this: I believe that people should be free to make their own mistakes.

Notice I said “mistakes,” not “decisions.” Not every decision can – or should – be an individual decision. Mistakes, however, properly belong to the individual. If it is a mistake for your friend to get involved with your husband, given the goals she has for her life, then that is her mistake to make. If it is a mistake for your husband to get involved with this particular woman, given her resistance to poly, then that is his mistake to make.

This brings us back to the monster that has taken up residence under your bed. I suspect that the source of much of your current anxiety is uncertainty about the extent of your responsibility in this situation. I would like to submit that it is not your responsibility to decide whether or not your husband and your friend should continue to explore their connection. It is not your responsibility to make sure your husband doesn't get himself into another mess. It is not your responsibility to make sure your friend meets a certain “percentage of time spent soul-searching” quota before she begins experimenting with a new relationship paradigm. You can share your concerns with each of them, of course. In fact, you owe it to yourself – and to them – to communicate clearly how you are feeling, to speak up about what you want and need. But that is where your responsibility ends.

Granted, it's not easy to let our loved ones conduct their other relationships their own way. I have to remind myself to back off constantly. However, there is great peace of mind to be found in trusting others to take care of themselves – by trusting them to learn whatever they need to learn from making their own mistakes.

Pickles and Peccadilloes,
Viny

Sexual Intimacy vs. Non-sexual Intimacy

Dear Viny,

I have what may be an odd question. (Or maybe not.) I'm not really in an “alternative” relationship, so I don’t know if my concern is unusual.

My husband has what I would call a girlfriend. He plays tennis with her two times a week and they share a passion for astronomy, so they're always sending each other links to articles and so on. And they talk on the phone every day. What concerns me (maybe I’m just weird) is not the possibility that they're having sex. (He assures me it's not a sexual relationship, and I think I believe him.) It's actually the other parts of their relationship that bother me. What I want to know I guess is whether sexual intimacy or non-sexual intimacy is more threatening?

--C.

***

Dear C.,

If I were a chiropractor, and you walked in with a spine shaped like the question you just asked, I'd be tempted to give you an adjustment before you even sat down to give me your health history, and that would be unwise. Luckily, however, I am merely an advice columnist, not a chiropractor. Tweaking your question may cause some momentary discomfort, but there will be no lasting damage if I get it wrong. So, let's risk it.

Take a deep breath in. Count to three. Now exhale, slowly, and rephrase:

My husband has a girlfriend. (So what's wrong with ME?) She likes tennis and astronomy, and I don't. (Does that mean there's something wrong with me?) He talks to her every day, about stuff that matters to him. (Why doesn't he talk to me the way he talks to her? Is something wrong with me?) He says he's not having sex with her, but secretly, I kind of wish he were. (What the fuck is WRONG with me?!) If it were just sex, I probably wouldn't feel as threatened. (Is that normal, Viny, or is there something wrong with me?)

Put your hand on your heart, C., and take a look at those parentheticals. Have we gotten any closer to saying it straight? If so, read on. If not, feel free to click that little “x” and go make make yourself some carrot biscuits or something.

Still with me? Yes? All right, then!

As far as I can tell, you're not weird at all. I mean, for all I know, you sleep upside down in a violet velour bat costume and brush your teeth with Cracker Jacks – but there's nothing weird about what you shared in your letter. Many people in committed relationships feel threatened by the idea of their partner being intimate with another person. Many of these same people feel aroused by the idea of their partner having sex with another person. (This may seem like a contradiction, but it isn't. That's because intimacy and sex are not the same thing. You can have hot sex without being intimate, just like you can have hot coffee without being intimate.) Anyway, whatever seemingly-strange, seemingly-conflicting emotions and desires have been coming up for you, C., they are most assuredly normal. 

Now, would you please stop comparing yourself to other people – especially your husband's girlfriend? Her being the person she is doesn't make you a better or worse person than you are. I understand the temptation to compare, I really do, but I promise you that nothing good comes of it. There is no security to be found in "better than" and "worse than." Trying to figure out how you measure up or where you stand in relation to someone else just feeds your jealousy. In my opinion, you need to get out of the "me vs. her" mindset entirely. 

Still speaking of comparisons, but moving on: you wanted to know which is more threatening, sexual intimacy or non-sexual intimacy. My answer to that question is that there is no difference between the two. Intimacy is intimacy. The sex is irrelevant. That sounds like an extreme position, I know, but there are mainstream marriage “experts” who would agree with me. For example, Shirley Glass, the author of Not “Just Friends”: Rebuilding Trust and Recovering Your Sanity After Infidelity, argues that it's not necessary to have sex in order to be unfaithful. She warns couples about the dangers of “emotional infidelity” – or, in other words, being intimate with anyone other than each other. I think Glass is right to be suspicious of non-sexual intimacy, because there is no such thing as non-sexual intimacy. When you are truly intimate with someone, you see them as a whole person. You can’t divide them into sexual bits and non-sexual bits, and then cherry pick only those bits that feel safe to you and/or your significant other. Whether they happen to be gay or straight or bi or asexual or pansexual or queer or kinky or engaged in some fluid process of exploring who they are and how they want to express themselves, human beings have sexual histories and sexual identities. They have thoughts and ideas and philosophies about sex. Whether they choose to have sex or not, they can’t be intimate without also being sexual, because they are sexual beings.

To someone like Shirley Glass, this is a reason to avoid intimacy. To someone like me, this is a reason to learn how to deal with jealousy – my own, and other people's – so that I can fearlessly embrace intimacy, wherever and however it may bloom.

Eros and Bandoleros,

Viny

I Wish My Girlfriend Had Another Boyfriend

Dear Viny,  

I am a 17 year old male, with a girlfriend about my age. We've been dating for just over a year, but in the past few months, things have been getting worse and worse. We fight more and more about little things, and she seems to always need more attention than I am capable of providing. I love her, but she turns to me to solve all of her problems, which I struggle to keep up with. I can't be too sure, but I think it has something to do with her fear of abandonment, most likely fostered by her alcoholic and emotionally unavailable parents, as well as her verbally abusive older sister. She has no emotional support other than whoever she's dating. As a last attempt to fix our relationship, I have recently been considering the idea of suggesting polyamory, something that has worked for several people (of all ages) whom I know, in the hopes that it might help us both to have other people to be intimate with. Maybe if we had some more support and new perspectives, it could help to take the pressure off. Do you think this is a good idea? And if not, what should I do instead? 

- The Rambler 

***

Dear Rambler,

I think you are wise to see that you and your girlfriend could both benefit from expanding your support network. One of polyamory's great contributions to popular culture is that it provides a radical validation of the not-so-radical idea that people do better when they are able to cultivate close, meaningful relationships with more than one person at a time. However, polyamory is certainly not the only way to avoid dumping all of your emotional needs on one overburdened partner – and thank the glutenous appendages of the Great Spaghetti Monster for that, because I think polyamory would be a really bad idea for you and your girlfriend right now.

There are probably polyfolk out there who would tell you that polyamory isn't on the Relationship 101 syllabus, and therefore you'd be better off sticking with monogamy until you've learned the basics. I think that's patronizing. It puts down young and inexperienced people, who are presumed to be incapable of choosing the relationship dynamic that's right for them, and it puts down people who choose to be monogamous by implying that monogamy is super simple, a piece of no-bake cheesecake right out of the box.

The reason polyamory isn't right for you right now isn't because you're still a teenager. It's because you are approaching polyamory as a means to an end. And I mean that in two ways: 1) you want to fix a problem, and are considering polyamory as a last-ditch means to accomplish that end; and 2) you seem to be hoping that polyamory will somehow provide you with a way out of your current predicament, an end to your discomfort. Maybe I'm reading too much into the phrase, “As a last attempt to fix our relationship....” And maybe you chose your pseudonym without ever having heard the lyrics to the Allman Brothers song that's currently looping through my brain: Lord, I was born a ramblin' man / Tryin' to make a living, and doin' the best I can / And when it's time for leaving, I hope you'll understand / That I was born a ramblin' man. 

Yep, call me crazy, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you've got at least one foot out the door already. 

No matter what age you are, bringing other people onto a sinking ship is a bad idea. It's not fair to them, and it's not fair to you. I'm not saying you have to have a perfect relationship before you can consider opening it up and dating other people. No relationship is perfect. What I'm saying is there's a big difference between telling your girlfriend, “There are so many great things about us as a couple, and I want to work on the long-term sustainability of our relationship by making sure we each get the breathing room we need,” and telling her, “We're so fucking miserable we might as well add a couple of other people into this messed-up mix and just see what happens – 'cuz it's not like it can get any worse than it already is, right?” (Wrong. It can get worse. A lot worse.)

In other words: polyamory is not a good exit strategy.

So, what do I think you should do instead? Well, for starters, I think you should listen to your heart. Do you want to be in this relationship, or don't you? If you're unclear about the answer to that question – if you feel an ambivalent mix of “yes” and “no” – then make a list of all the reasons why you want to stay, and another list of all the reasons why you want to go, and see if you can find any patterns. As you're reading through your lists, please remember this: fear is not a good reason to stay. (It's also not a good reason to go.) Once you're clear, communicate. Share your thoughts and feelings with your girlfriend, gently and compassionately.

Secondly, from what you've said, it sounds like your girlfriend might need professional counseling and/or a support group to help her deal with the problems she is having at home as a result of her parents' alcoholism. Alcoholism is a serious disease, and it wreaks havoc on relationships. Fear of abandonment is just the tip of the iceberg! There's also low self- esteem (typically the result over-estimating one's ability to control someone else's drinking, and utterly failing), and co-dependence, and enabling behaviors – and the list goes on and on. Unfortunately, Rambler, your girlfriend has grown up in a pretty dysfunctional family. She will have to work hard to unlearn the lessons her parents have unwittingly taught her about what it means to be in a relationship with another person. I strongly recommend that she check out Al-Anon/Alateen, which provides fellowship for friends and family members of alcoholics. There is probably a group that meets in your area (you can find out here). You could consider attending meetings with her, if you feel that would help. Be advised that there's a religious element to most 12-step programs, which some people might find off-putting (I know I do, anyway!) – but at least it's a starting point for building a support network of people who are dealing with similar issues and can recommend other good resources.

Finally, whether you stay or go, one of the nicest things you can do for this girl you love is to model healthy relationship habits. So be true to yourself, and be honest with her. That may mean acknowledging that the relationship is over, and moving on. It may mean taking a break for a while. Or it may mean setting some boundaries, so that you each have the space you need to become strong, independent people, and you each have the time you need to cultivate other interests and friendships.

Thanks for writing. I'm honored that you consulted me, and I wish you both the very best.

Summer Shade & Lemonade,

Viny