By Maria Padhila
I try really hard to avoid reaching for the ice cream. It ends up making me sick and hormonal, but it’s always in the house, because everyone else can eat it. I’ve reduced the chips, the other trigger food, to an organic quinoa and flax version, but you know, if they’re going to eat ice cream, they might as well have the real thing. And I shouldn’t ever have it at all. But when I’m at home working and I run across something that makes me feel really nervous, it’s like my brain runs through an algorithm — smoke? drink? pill? ice cream? — of alleged stress-reduction substances (that really only serve to make things worse, as you and I know very well).
Most of the time, I hear my brain turning over the cards and smile and tell it to cut that shit out and then I get on with life. But the other day I hit a perfect storm, and was two spoonfuls through the acai sorbet before I realized what I was doing. Here’s what happened:
I was reading through a litany of abuse and nastiness that came after a perfectly nice woman posted a perfectly nice narrative about her ordinary poly family. Then an email came across about a major business development that could affect Isaac’s job. Then a message from a friend who is childless by choice about all the nasty comments on a Time magazine article about people who choose not to have children. Then a post came across Facebook from another poly writer and activist saying she had been quoted and used as a source in a major Washington publication.
Put down the spoon and walk away from the freezer. Let’s unwrap this particular quad of danger:
• Angi Becker Stevens wrote a first-person narrative for Salon that they headlined “My Two Husbands,” in which she talked about the ordinariness of her poly life. She also reported what her guys and her daughter had to say. The comments are reaching 500, and many are horrifying, insulting, threatening, and grotesque, and reveal a shockingly low level of reading comprehension and writing skills.
• The job thing. For now, job and health insurance are safe, but no one is offering any guarantees.
• Time magazine published an article on the perfectly personal, reasonable, and normal choice not to have children, but somehow managed to imply that people who make this choice do so solely out of an interest in spending more time on the beach sipping margaritas (which, by the way, is yet another perfectly reasonable way to spend one’s life and beats the fuck out of defense contracting, but whatever).
• One of my favorite poly activists, Anita Wagner Illig, was quoted and used as a source in an article in Washingtonian magazine — an admirably balanced and well-written article. As of Saturday, it had about a dozen comments, mostly balanced, mostly reasonable, and none particularly vitriolic.
Of course, the responses to the Salon article were the voices that echo in my mind. Most of it I’d heard before, but never such a colorful collection all in one place. About the only thing that was intriguing were two added new elements: many commenters saying that they felt polyamory was a “cult” and that people were brainwashed and manipulated into trying it, and others said poly people were just “into drama” (even though her article described the most drama-free V I could imagine).
Manipulation surely can have a big part in any kind of relationship, from the one you may have with your car dealer to the one you may have with your dom. But my reply to that is that cults are not noted for any particular appreciation for self-awareness; in fact, the distinguishing feature of a cult is that it discourages any manner of shift in perspective, asking questions, etc.
So, um, let’s ask Google if polyamory shows dangerous culty influences! I boldly put polyamory in the keyword search, as I do several times a week, to see what’s out there. What comes up are questions, forums, meetings, debates, discussion groups, FAQs. You cannot get these people to shut up with the questions. They will argue about anything. Maybe we’re poly because no one person can put up with our constant questioning, discussing, talking, talking, talking. Even we get sick of it. I know I have heard within the past 48 hours from Isaac the suggestion “maybe you should talk to your friend about that,” because he’s got a lot going on right now and really can’t talk much more.
It all seems very Lifetime Movie Network, the idea of an innocent little unicorn going to her local Meetup and being waylaid by a kindly woman who gently deflects all her questions with lovebombing until she’s trapped in the couple’s clutches. But that’s never been the reality I’ve seen. Most are too busy (like me) arguing, flirting, and trying to be the smartest kid in the room (because this is Washington) to turn on the Svengali vibrations.
As a newbie a few years ago, I found an almost discouraging attitude, much like the (now outmoded) tradition of turning away those seeking to convert to Judaism. It was much more “maybe this isn’t right for you” than “maybe you should spend the night with me.” Go to any site or gathering, and you’ll see it over and over: This isn’t right for everyone, think carefully and talk a lot before you go there, don’t change your ways, don’t expect this to save a relationship, you might not be ready for this, etc., etc.
As for drama — well, in considering that, maybe I do have some reason to feel guilty. Despite the usual levelheadedness of the guys, I’ve been a mess for several months running. As some readers have noted, Isaac is an extraordinarily confident man, and a complex one. Chris is an extraordinarily complex man, and a confident one. Both these qualities, though they vary in measure among the individuals, are what make this life possible and in one way or another rewarding for them. Am I feeling guilty or defensive about this because I wonder if the commenters are onto something? Being honest with myself means analyzing that.
My answer is, as always, that nothing is perfect. But does being a “good poly model” mean one has to pretend it is? Am I supposed to leave out the drama — even that I cop full responsibility for — in all I write, so I won’t give the impression that poly relationships can be just as volatile or nutty or silly or boring as any other relationships can? In a way, it’s a much less grueling but similar dilemma to that faced by my wealthy black “talented tenth” friends when I was growing up. You must be always above reproach, always on display, always image-conscious, always setting a good example. No thanks. I’d rather demand the right for all to be flawed and human.
I also got to wondering why Stevens’ article got so many crazy comments and why the Washingtonian one didn’t. Washingtonian may protect its demographic by more strictly moderating comments, but even so, it’s a wildly disparate amount. Here are some ideas that I’ve come up with:
• The Salon article focused on a woman with two men. This seems to touch off a lot more hostility than other types of poly configurations.
• The Salon narrative’s author mentioned in several ways that she was a left-wing activist and that political change and social justice were important values to her. That touches off the right-wing comment and sock-puppet army.
• The examples in Washingtonian were all poly groups who belonged to that magazine’s demographic — a little more vanilla and upper-middle-class, none of them overtly rocking the boat or talking about the political and social implications of their relationships.
Finally, I thought a more constructive response than ice cream might be checking out how Stevens herself handled the nastiness, so I checked her blog for some ideas and inspiration. I was not disappointed. Here are some informative excerpts, but the whole makes excellent reading:
“Since my personal essay about my family was published at Salon a few days ago, numerous people have called me ‘brave.’ I greatly appreciate the sentiment, though it feels incredibly strange that simply talking about my family should be considered an act of bravery. I would be lying, though, if I said that writing and publishing the piece was not a little terrifying. … But I did it anyway.
“When I was still living monogamously, suffering from depression and trying to choose between the unbearable pain of losing my husband and the equally unbearable pain of never being free to love another, it is no exaggeration to say that the personal stories of other poly people saved me. … I truly, honestly would not have the live I have today — the life I love more than I ever thought I could love life — had it not been for others sharing their stories.
“Now that I am so fortunate as to be happily and comfortably settled in a stable poly family, sharing my own story feels like the least I can do for people who are struggling like I once was. … I just want to say that in spite of all the nasty comments, the support I’ve received has been overwhelming. … In a world with so little validation and acceptance for my family, your support means more than you know.”
That’s pretty good advice. The only thing I can offer that would be comparably useful is to let you know that acai sorbet tastes like a sawdust popsicle and is not worth the trouble.
Thank you, Maria, for a really valuable teaching in the arts of resourceful thinking and graceful living.
Carrie: Thank you for your heartening declaration of freedom.
One thing I have found, now that I am past menopause, is that none of us has to be an example to anyone. All we need to do is be the best we want to be for our own reasons and that’s enough.