By Maria Padhila
The Poly Living 2012 conference was being held at a fairly nondescript chain hotel outside Philadelphia. Mostly, you couldn’t tell the polyamorists from the rest of the hotel guests without looking for the lanyard and the name badge. Occasionally, there was someone with distinctive clothing or hairstyle or jewelry — oh, wait, there was one kilt — but mostly? We looked like the people next door. The people you’d see on a casual day at work, or at the grocery store, or at the café or the chain restaurant down the street. At the WalMart, even. No one hanging all over each other, no tongue kissing in the elevators. No conspicuous display of lingerie.
And this is what knocks me out every time. Because we’re not all that special. Not all that different. A bunch of Clark Kents, we are.
Because then, someone would open his or her mouth, and I’d think: Superman. (Or Wonder Woman. Or something in between.)
As I was reminded in several presentations, the three most important things about polyamory are communication, communication and communication. That’s where the polyamorists start to look different. If you’re deep enough into it that you’re coming to an event like that, you’ve got your masters or maybe your doctorate in communicating. I myself am not there yet; not in public, anyway. I can do it somewhat in writing. But this was amazing to see and hear. People would talk freely about all the things we have always been told not to talk about: sex, love, conflict, the problems with marriage and relationships and coupling, and also, the joys. What they love, who they love, and what they love about who they love.
How often do you hear people relate stories about how someone has loved them? Or how they love someone? How often do you talk about what you do for others, what you do for yourself, what you’re willing to do for others or yourself, and what you’re not? How often do people articulate what they want in a relationship, beyond the online dating level of ‘I enjoy a sense of humor and good coffee’?