About Her Loves..

When I was a younger version of myself, I would see only the good in people, places and things. It was a good coping mechanism for someone who deeply struggled with wanting to live. I am older now, and I want to live, but I also want to see things for how they are, not what I want them to be. I want true, authentic, hard-earned beauty. Not just flowery lies to make me happy.

The loss of my relationship with my long-term partner was devastating. Yet somehow not nearly as devastating as reflecting on the flowery lies, half-truths I so readily gobbled up, in order to maintain the facade of beauty I so desperately wanted. I was so blinded by what we could be, that I didn’t see the truth that before me was a man deeply rooted in shame and fear. It was my own choosing to only focus on the beauty that wounded me more than his half-truths.

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This morning I walked out my front door and right there the middle of a pile of dead leaves and cement was a beautiful little flower. I ran back inside to grab my camera and snap a couple pictures. I was hurried because the bus was coming to pick up my son.

After my son was safely on the bus and it has driven away. I walked back to the front door and sat down on my front step to look at the photos I had just taken. I chuckled. Oh, how art mimics life. Blurring out all the bad parts just to focus on the beauty of the flower made me think about how I had done this in my relationship.

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Back when our affair came to light, my partner had already retired from the head pastor position. Still, his church asked him to write an apology letter to all the members of the church and send it out. Even after the apology, and period of repentance the pastors and members of the church would watch his social media to make sure that woman was no longer a part of his life. He was so embarrassed, hurt, and wounded and felt cast out by the very people he’d served for so long. Throwing in there the generational baggage of having an adulterous father and this led to my partner living only to please those around him, never himself. He just wanted to be seen as a good man. That’s just a lot of junk to unpack in the dark.

On the flip side, when I revealed our affair, I’d found freedom in being my authentic self and support from those around me who I loved to live openly polyamorously. I saw the beauty that authenticity can bring, but I neglected to take into consideration the lived experiences of my partners’s life, and the people he loves. They do not value authenticity, as much as they value order. Instead of recognizing that I could never overcome the fear of losing his people and the shame of letting them down again, I instead hoped that I could show him enough beauty through my love that it would overcome his fears. I foolishly equated his actions to my worth.

My love did not change my partner. He is still deeply crippled by the fear and anxiety surrounding our relationship. He is sick, scared, and towards the end of his life. He doesn’t want to die alone. And more than having one authentic and real love; he would rather be surrounded by many who say they love him, but do not truly know him. Coming to terms with that being his choice has been heartbreaking. If being polyamorous has brought me freedom, the best thing I could do is give the freedom to others to make their own way. I can love them as best as I can, and I always will.

However, I am learning that in order to love me the best I can. I have to seek the truth of the situation, along with the beauty. Sometimes, and I truly believe in this case, it’s true, the beauty of my relationship with my partner has been found in the letting go. It gives us both what we need, and eventually we will find what we want. Or at least, I will. I can only hope for him.