Sunny Days in DC

Jack of All Trades, Master of 3-ish.

Poly Dismorphic Disorder

on December 28, 2012

Our evening went like this:

Hubs: “So, you’re heading out with Tim tonight?”

Me: “Yeah. His group is doing a class on the Poly lifestyle, and one of the things I want to find out is how they make that work. I mean, your communication skills have to be off the chart, right?! I can barely manage ONE relationship, and some of these people have FIVE!”

Hubs: “Maybe I’ll go with you.”

Me: “Oh jeez.”

Hubs: “Well! You don’t know! Maybe I’ll find another girlfriend there! How would you like that?! Then you can nap while someone else helps with the laundry!”

At this point, my husband thought he was UNBELIEVABLY clever. As thought all your problems could be solved by adding one more person to the mix. I tried to explain that I REALLY doubted that adding more people to a crazy situation actually helped stabilize it, but to no avail. My husband was pretty sure he was gonna start his own suburban harem. So I was all, “Right. We have a sitter, so let’s just go,” because when you have a child, you mostly just want to be out of the house. With or without said child. (Holy crap, I hope he never reads this!)

Let me say this: after having taken the class, I am now pretty darn sure that I could never be polyamorous (in multiple relationships), or even polyfidelous (in multiple COMMITTED relationships). Why? If you have to ask, you have no idea how much energy it takes with the ONE INSANE relationship I already have. Not my hubs, he was off in some crazy world where he had women falling over themselves to accomplish his every whim.

Ladies Man

*That’s right, ladies. These are original Dungeons and Dragons cards! OMG, PUSSY AVALANCHE!! – My husband’s brain*

The class started, and an average looking woman walked up to the front and started talking about what it takes to be in many poly relationships. AND THEN, she started talking about the difference between being Poly, and just being slutty. Surprise surprise, my hubs is a slut. As she was describing the difference I looking over at him and said (not too quietly either), “HEY!! THAT’S YOUUUUUUUUUU!!!” That went over REALLY well with everybody but him. Still, he is kinda slutty, so, you know: the spade is a spade.

The “instructor” talked about how vital communication is, and how many people think they want to be poly so that they can substitute whatever they’re not getting in their current relationship, by adding someone new. Doesn’t work, she says, because if you never confront and deal with problems in any relationship, you can keep meeting people but nothing will last. I thought that was just generally good advice.

“Are you coming next week?” Tim whispers in my ear as my husband sits flabbergasted at all the work he would have to do if he took on a new girlfriend… not to mention the bits of his pieces that he would have to hunt down in the middle of the night once I had cut them off.

“What’s next week?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the speaker who has somehow wandered into a conversation about talking monkeys and while I don’t know how that happened, I am enjoying it. Because TALKING MONKEYS.

“The board meeting. Politics. We’re going to outline the curriculum for the year, and discuss speakers and lesson plans.”

*Sigh.*

“Tim. When does your pervy group ever do anything, you know… PERVY?!”

“This is mostly an educational group.”

Figures I would fall in with the book-reading pervs.

The class ends and little chunks of people get up; 3 here, 4 there, and everyone starts saying goodnight. I look at the hubby, and he looks back at me.

“Not what you thought it would be, huh?”

“Not even close, babe.”

“No girlfriend for you?”

“The CLASS was exhausting enough!”

Poly Dismorphic Disorder: Thinking you can go poly until you find out what it is and realize, no, you’re just slutty.

Advertisements

2 responses to “Poly Dismorphic Disorder

  1. ekgo says:

    I would like a wife. For me, though, not for Gabe. He can have a husband. I want a 1950’s wife who cooks and cleans and hands me a martini when I get home. I want her to listen to me whine and to comfort me and to lay out my clothing for the next day. Come to think of it, I wanted that mom, too, but in actuality, I only got the martini part out of that deal. Which is weird when you’re 12 and don’t like any alcohol other than wine coolers.
    I always suspected poly relationships would be the same as living with all your siblings only without the incest. As much fun as I make living with my siblings sound, I wouldn’t want to do it again.

    • H. Stern says:

      This comment? HILARIOUS!!!!!!!

      I always liked the idea of living in a happy little clump of people. I just think the dynamics would be too tricky. I’m not smart enough to juggle more than ONE man at a time. I’m exhausted with a full grown one, and a sleeping one upstairs!!

People who leave comments on blogs have been statistically shown to live longer, happier lives.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Humans Are Weird

colourful observations

rarasaur

frightfully wondrous things happen here.

1pointperspective

NOT just another WordPress.com site

The Bumble Files

The truth is in here

lauren.nicolette.colie.

writer.editor.researcher.

Cinema Parrot Disco

Musings on Mainly Movies from a Table 9 Mutant

Skinny Jeans & Cupcakes

Fashionably Fit While Ballin' on a Budget

The Dirty Dame

Penny for your dirty thoughts?

Vanessa-Jane Chapman

Blog of a 40 something year old mother of two. She writes, she acts, she bakes, she works in education.

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell

006.7 EKGO

a blogful of stories

mlewisredford

almost indefatigable and quietly militant naïveté ...

Bain Waves

The world is hurting; laugh more.

The Juggle Struggle

Trying hard not to drop the balls or smash the plates.

Sweet Mother

Where my Old writing lives!

Free Range Cow

The adventures and roamings of a silly cow

bakingnotwriting

A site by a writer who is baking...or a baker who isn't writing

Pucker Up Buttercup

Wisdom & Nonsense From Your Basic Suburbanite Baroness

I Won't Take It

Life After an Emotionally Abusive Relationship

%d bloggers like this: