Jealousy, envy, insecurity, possessiveness, fear – these are topics that are discussed, analyzed, questioned, struggled with and pondered over by people that identify as poly/open in their relationship structures. Some feel it, some don’t. Some deal with it effectively; some can’t. Many, many of us struggle with it.
I won’t be held hostage by my own insecurities, by jealousy and fear and envy. I won’t. But damn it’s hard sometimes.
In the next week or so, an event is going to take place that will probably (probably? It already has) engender some of these feelings and reactions in me. It’s an event that I precipitated, that I set into motion, knowing that it would have emotional repercussions for me. Knowing that I would struggle with it, agonize over it, probably lose sleep over it. But I won’t let those feelings win. I will work my way through them, and I will persevere. And I’ve decided to blog about it as it happens. Because I want people to see that those negative feelings can be overcome. Or at least dealt with in a non-destructive manner.
…I hope. Because this shit ain’t easy. I could crash and burn. It’s happened before.
A lot of this isn’t going to paint me in a good light. These feelings are often ugly and usually painful. But I hope, by writing about them, that I can diminish their power over me. And maybe…help someone else deal with them too.
It started with an email sent out on Fetlife by someone visiting our town for a few days. Did anyone know of anything happening locally, any places to go, etc. while she was in town. I perused her profile and saw that it appeared that her relationship with her Sir was similar to mine with W – open, with the D/s primarily centered on her sexuality. She is close to our age, attractive (at least from behind, there were no face pics posted), and seemed to be fairly normal. You know, for a kinky person. ;-)
So…I decided to write to her. About W. About playing with W. Yeah, I pimped my man out.
As you all know, I’ve been physically debilitated recently. Not as bad as I had feared – W has been very good at making me see I am not completely useless, and some play can be had. But…nothing like he and I are used to. Also, I know how much he enjoys playing with someone new. I think it may be his favorite thing in kink, in fact, and he hasn’t had a chance to do so in quite awhile – sometimes, I suspect, because he is concerned about my reaction if he does seek out someone else. Or maybe the right opportunity just hasn’t come along. In any case…this seemed like it might be a good opportunity.
She and her Sir apparently thought so too, and now…well, next week we are meeting her for dinner or a drink and then…if all goes well, she and W are going to go to his place and play. And it’s all because I emailed her. He would never have done so on his own.
And of course I am conflicted.
I was perfectly fine up until yesterday morning. Or rather, fine in principal, but wrestling with the question of whether or not I wanted to be there when he plays with her. That is still up in the air, and frankly, I don’t know. I have a really hard time watching him play with others. When I am there but not an active participant I feel:
- Left out, abandoned, invisible, unimportant
- Jealous of what he’s doing or how he’s doing it (why doesn’t he do that to me, why hasn’t he done that to me?? Also: is he liking her reactions better, does he like her body better? But mostly those first two.)
- Concerned about what he’s doing. Is he hurting her too much? Is she enjoying it? How can he tell if he’s gone too far? Will she hate him when it’s over? I have a really hard time watching others in pain and accepting that they are okay with it (I know, freaking weird, since I do, right?) But there you are. I also have this bizarre notion that no one but me can really like all the horrific things he does. Also a weirdness, I know.
- Sad because it makes me realize that I can never ever be what he really truly wants: someone new. Someone fresh. The thrill and danger of playing with a brand new person. I can never ever be that again for him.
These insecurities are at the root of my fears. I don’t know how to combat them, how to turn those tapes off in my head.
But I’m trying.
To my credit, there is a less selfish reason for not wanting to be there. W knows all these things I feel – I’m no good at keeping my feelings to myself, unfortunately – and I am afraid if I am there it will make him self-conscious, afraid to do things for the very reasons stated above, or he may not enjoy himself because he is worrying about my reactions. So really, I’d probably be doing us all a favor if I wasn’t there.
I so wish I was a different person. I wish I was him, and could get off on seeing him with another.
I wish I was a better person.
So why do I do this, if it causes this much angst? Because it is the right thing to do. I do not own W. I would never tell someone they do not have the right to seek their own joy, their own pleasure, their own happiness. I will not place limitations on either of them.
This has nothing to do with the fact that they allow me the same freedoms, by the way. It is not tit for tat. It is simply how I feel about relationship in general. I will not be one that places those kind of limitations on another. Monogamy doesn’t equal love, and frankly I see no value in it as a concept.
Also, I want him to be happy. You see that thing up there? The thing I can’t give him, that I can’t be? I want him to have it. Even if I can’t be the one to give it to him. Yes…it hurts that I can’t be that…I want to be everything, dammit! But I can’t be. I know that.
And that, too, is at the crux of my conflicted feelings. I miss it, being that for him. Oh how I miss it. Reading his emails to her, those first forays into “getting to know” her, those first “flirtations,” if you will, is so, so hard. I am torn between being so very proud of him – he writes a damn good email – and acutely missing the feelings those kinds of emails generated. I miss those long, exploratory emails he used to send. I miss him anticipating play, being excited about me, because I was “the new one.” I still feel all that about play with him…because my pleasure in what we do isn’t in the danger or fear or anticipation of not knowing him, but in knowing him, and in knowing that when we come together, there is a depth of connection that allows me to explore in a way I never could with someone unknown. And, yes, I imagine he feels that too (and I should not discount the value he places in that aspect of our relationship), but…I know this, this newness, is what really excites him. He loves to play with me…but…as he has said so many times in the past, when you are familiar with someone, the edge is lost. That’s not how I feel, it is quite the opposite for me in fact, but no amount of explaining how it works for me makes it work that way for him. Our libidos are not ours to command, they simply are. And, for him, that is where the edges lie. In a place he cannot find with me.
But…I can give him the freedom to find it elsewhere. That has to be enough.
So. That’s where I am. That’s where we are. I’ll keep you updated on where we go from here.