Along Came Poly

So I have always had this idea of what my future would be like. I’m talking about my ideal relationship. And for a long time I didn’t realize that my ideal future was poly. It really wasn’t until about a year ago that I learned about polyamorous relationships.

For me, my ideal relationship means waking up next to the loves of my life, two to be exact.

Sure, I have tried having monogamous relationships. I have dated women and men separately and I enjoyed it but there has always been something missing. I have always wanted something more. More passion, more sex, more conversation, more trust, more emotion, more of something.

Since as far back as I can remember I have always said I would love nothing more than to wake up with a man on one side and a woman on the other. And most people think threesome like my past relationships, no.

Before I even knew what polyamory was I wanted it. I wanted a companionship with both a man and woman who could equally love each other and me as much as I loved them.

Men and women love in very different ways. They have things the other doesn’t. I enjoy both and want both in my life. That’s why I say my ideal future is poly.

A polyamorous relationship provides a balance I want in life and out of love. It allows you to be loved in ways that only a man and only a woman are able to love, both with their unique qualities.

I have always wanted it and even tried to have this sort of companionship before in previous relationships but they were failed attempts or guys that just wanted to have a threesome. It has never been about that for me. I mean some people prefer the more open style dating, nothing wrong with that. Do you boo..

What I want for myself and my future is more than threesomes, hookups, or one-sided monogamy, meaningless dating. I want a companionship.

I met her online, something I never thought I would do because I am just way to shy and him not long after. They both are a shockingly amazing, brilliant, funny, sexy, and both fit the description I had for ideal partners. They are the love and balance I have always wanted.

I am going to see them this weekend and I am nervous as fuck but also can’t wait. Kind of thinking it’s going to be a long ass drive up there and then I’m going to be like of fuck I’m here and get nervous again. I am ready to be there though. I might not want to leave but they say that’s okay. They seem to be truly authentic people.

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It’s Never The Right Time

The world looks different at times. It looks different when you’re about to lose the person you love most. The one truly good person you have ever known. It’s never the right time.

It’s like living in a parallel universe.

Time moves too fast because you want more of it with them. You don’t want them to go.  Pain seems to slow time down, drag it out, make it creep along. I see her hurting so much that it is painful to watch in the sense that every ounce of me wants to hurt for her, take the pain so they don’t have to feel it. But I can’t. 

It’s crazy how much has happened this week that was happening a year ago. A year ago doctor’s said she had two months to live.

She is SO strong.

Even on her most painful days, she is still making jokes, trying to make everyone smile. I get my sense of humor from her, she is hilarious.

I look at her as the knots build in my throat to the point that it hurts to breathe and she says “what’s wrong baby”. We both know. Instead of talking about it I just lay down beside her in her hospital bed and watch trashy cable tv.

My children love her so beautifully.

My daughter comes in the door, goes straight to her for a kiss and a “hey Felicia“. Nanny always gets so tickled and responds with a “hey Felicia” and giggles every time. My son always asks to stop and pick a flower on the way to her house. He walks in after Felicia and gives Nanny the flower he picked, hugging her and telling her how pretty she looks that day.

The knots fill my throat like it’s the first time all over again.

This is something he wants to do to show his love for her, his own idea. At eight years old he has seen the way the chemo has stolen the physical identity that was his grandmother. So he reminds her that she is still that same beautiful woman we all love so dearly. She smiles every time.

As soon as they turn around to sit by her bed to watch tv with her you can see the worry in her eyes again. She has never shown fear in front of any of us. Between her kids and grandchildren there’s almost 90 of us, maybe more. Who knows what some of us have done.

In a parallel universe she would leave differently.  Probably while she was sleeping, slipping away in the middle of the night, painlessly.

They’re Always Watching

Sometimes I forget just how much my children are paying attention to everything I do. In the past eight years of being a single mom I have become painfully aware of a lot of the little things I do that will eventually add up to being huge factors in their lives. I am still new at this, some days I am horrible at it. It’s a learning process for all of us and they teach me just as much as I teach them.

Appearance, how we view ourselves, how we view others. I was a little asshole that tried way to hard to fit in during my younger years. I am still an asshole now, I just stopped trying to fit in. I was never much for judging people on their appearance though, my family was far from rich and I also grew up in a single parent house hold.

Looking back now I realize how hard my mom worked to give us the things we had. I am sure some days she wasn’t even able to stay above water, not quite drowning but fighting for those quick gasps of air every now and then. She did her best to hide it but I was always up her ass following her around, worried that she would cry if I left her alone. So I annoyed her instead that way she would be forced to smile when she came up for that quick gasp of air, she always did.

As a mom I get it, as her child I wish I would have been able to do more, want a lot less. I try to teach my kids the value of diversity. The beauty that comes with being around people from various parts of the world. The valuable wisdom that comes with being open to learning why people believe what they do instead of closed off to ones that don’t believe the same things as them. I try to teach them to respect another person’s religious practices, being open to the fact that not all are the same, and the fact that that’s okay. That some don’t have any rituals at all and that is okay too. The world’s beauty lies in the fact that we are all different.

The same diversity that I teach them to be so open to because of its overflowing beauty is the same thing will cause them to miss out on so many life chances because of how mean the world can be and its refusal to actually change into a beautiful, kind thing to be a part of.  That’s the part I don’t teach them. I don’t teach them how their beautiful skin will intimidate some people, the kind of people I teach them not to be. I shield them to that because I don’t want it to shape them into that kind of person. I don’t want them to see someone and determine a person’s worth before they have the chance to hear who the person is on the inside.

I don’t tell them that some children are taught differently than them. I can’t tell them that some parents teach their children the opposite and that they should judge a person from a far, sizing them up and basing their opinion on image instead of the goodness of their character and beauty of one’s soul. How sometimes it will be okay for them to date some people until their “one-way” lifestyle parents find out that they aren’t sun-kissed but are in fact bi-racial with a mother that is caucasian and a father that is african-american. I don’t teach them this because I don’t see a point putting a label on their beauty, a category label on them like so many people feel the need to do.

Some of you know what I mean, those random individuals from older generations, people you have never met a day in your life that walk up to you at Wal-Mart and say “Oh my word, what pretty children. What are they?” That question always confuses me.

I guess it confuses me because so many people have fought given everything to steer us away from race having such a negative impact on our everyday life that I can’t understand why strangers still feel okay walking up to us at the store and asking “what my children are”. Don’t do that, it’s rude. It’s never too early to start teaching them self-defense classes and you’ll be the practice dummy. Why can’t they just be beautiful children?

I just don’t see the point in defining a person by their skin tone. Embrace your heritage and learn from it but don’t let it define the person you become, some of us are better people because of it. Some people should not take trips to Wal-Mart with their parents and learn that it’s okay to ask random people what their children are like it’s the equivalent to asking which aisle the milk is on, it’s not. This blog is not about race issues exactly though. This is about image perception, how my children are learning to view themselves and the world around them. It’s about how the world is so hell-bent to separate us all into these categories.

I tell my kids equally that they are beautiful just as much as I tell them they are smart. God, they are both, I am truly lucky. They are beautiful, they are extremely intelligent with a hunger for knowledge that is never satisfied, and they are respectful. They don’t pick their nose in public or repeat the stuff that comes out of their mama’s foul ass mouth. I am young and it is a struggle trying to balance being a mom and no option of a co-parent lifestyle while also juggling school and work but I have amazing parents that have helped out tremendously when I couldn’t be there.

School is the biggest thing I have seen my children pick up on. It’s amazing, they place so much value on school work and even though they are only in first and second grade they are determined to go to college. To them school doesn’t stop when you graduate high-school. That’s just another stepping stone before they go off to college and mama leaves to travel the world because she will still be in her thirties. Heyyyy! I’m kidding I’m kidding, they know I will following them to whatever college their heart desires. Okay that was really a joke, I am catching the first flight to Italy.

A person can tell my kids that they are beautiful and handsome all day but to them it means so much more when you acknowledge how smart they are. I always make sure to say it too, whenever someone compliments their appearance. I always point out how hard they work in school and how they are so extraordinarily smart and that’s always the point when they look up and have a huge smile across their face. Image doesnt’ mean nearly as much to them as wisdom does and as their mother I am so grateful for that. That is what makes them truly beautiful and I hope they don’t allow the world to take that from them. Beauty is fun to look at but life’s true beauty is when you meet someone with a good soul and I hope they have the chance to encounter many in their lifetime.