Queen Juicy J

Oh man, the weekend has barely started and I’m already writing. Buckle up, it’s already starting to get serious. So last weekend we all piled into cars and went to see my metamour, C, cross the stage and earn a degree. It was interesting having come with my boyfriend and his wife and meeting my husband there as the partner to C, watching her son little T. It was probably one of the most surreal moments in poly I’ve experienced so far, and blows me away that we were both quite capable of handling it. I found myself once more in a sort of flow in between. At times I sat next to my husband and felt like his partner, but when C then came around I was able to step back and just go where needed. In the photographs, my arms are around the Bs eldest daughter, K. For someone who hates ambiguity, I sure am finding a comfortable spot in the most ambiguous place when we’re all together. I attribute this to my own sense of independence. I remain Poison Ivy, going as I please, willing whatever r...

Growing up my mum implemented a rule. We always say ‘I love you’ before we leave and we kiss goodbye. Every time, no matter what. Because the world can be scary and it’s the last moment to be kind, to express unconditional love. I taught this to Matt after years, and now he cannot escape the need to do so. It’s a difficult habit to break, but I try not to smother people with it. It’s created a ritual around leaving, and it can weigh so heavily. “They miss you. You’re not just an after thought.” I’m going through my goodbyes, being a responsible adult, preparing to leave after a full weekend. He says it as I’m trying to shore up the emotion threatening to close my throat and it spills. It’s no longer just half hearted and indifferent waves from the couch as I leave. Hands reach for me, voices whine and plead to stay. Hugs have grown tighter and more lingering and the tightness in my chest threatens to spill tears into their hair. I hold on to it as long as I can, but ultimately th...

Me, around noon today, having had a difficult time with my partners the night before and struggling with residual feelings. Me: He hasn't said anything since 530 last night. EGO: YEAH. WE TOLD HIM NOT TO EXPECT A LOT OF TALK BECAUSE YOU'RE BUSY. STAY FOCUSED. a͎n͎x͎i͎e͎t͎y͎:͎ ͎H͎e͎'͎s͎ ͎m͎a͎d͎ ͎a͎t͎ ͎y͎o͎u͎ ͎-͎ ͎h͎e͎'͎s͎ ͎b͎e͎e͎n͎ ͎s͎h͎o͎r͎t͎ ͎a͎n͎d͎ ͎q͎u͎i͎e͎t͎ ͎b͎e͎c͎a͎u͎s͎e͎ ͎h͎e͎'͎s͎ ͎m͎a͎d͎ ͎a͎t͎ ͎y͎o͎u͎ Me: He's not mad. He's tired. And Ego said-- a͎n͎x͎i͎e͎t͎y͎:͎ ͎b͎i͎t͎c͎h͎ ͎h͎e͎'͎s͎ ͎M͎A͎D͎ ͎a͎n͎d͎ ͎h͎e͎'͎s͎ ͎g͎o͎n͎n͎a͎ ͎i͎g͎n͎o͎r͎e͎ ͎y͎o͎u͎ ͎a͎l͎l͎ ͎d͎a͎y͎ 𝐼𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃: 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝒾𝓂. 𝐻𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀, 𝓌𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀. 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 '𝒪𝒦'. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝒾𝓂. Me: IW, you're just being petty, stop that. Say something nice. 𝐼𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃: 𝒩𝑜. Me: He's going to get really mad about that, th...

Before I even dive into this weekend, the emotions start rolling Thursday night. The 6th of December. No... wait, they began on the 5th. Fifteen years ago I dressed in a red turtleneck under a smart dark jean jacket and matching pants, and nervously walked into the courtroom in Corunna with my mother. Tucked under my arm was my copy of the police reports, medical diagnostics, and little notes to remind myself of any answers I might need to give in case I froze during during my hearing. I watched as four couples went before me, petitioning for divorce. Each time the judge ordered them to go to court mandated couples therapy before he would grant any legal separation. I began to feel numb. J wasn’t here, for all his promises to show up and make this hard, he and his faction were blissfully ex parte. He called my name and I went to stand at the podium beneath soaring murals of blindfolded Justice and stern looking judges from this room’s century long history. I felt tiny, dwarfed, and...

We’ve ended up in his room after eating ourselves to death and I’ve laid on the bed with the lights shining down on me. He’s sitting in the chair in the corner, watching me and smiling. Earlier he had pulled me close and danced to Christmas music in the living room. Now his eyes were on me and it felt like heaven. I had his undivided attention. We talked about holidays. How spending them together was such a big thing. How neither of us had spent them with anyone other than spouses. I’d never even dated anyone around the holidays, usually in a deep depression after Firemen’s. This is my first, and boy was I really going balls to the wall. Matt and I had been having discussions for years. Dreams, ideas. What I want to do for holidays versus what we could do. We’ve spent them largely isolated, just the two of us. They have been lovely, but he’s held my hand every year, given it a little squeeze and told me that some day we’d have the family I miss. He resents me nothing in my desire to ...

It’s dim, the Christmas tree in the living room is casting colors into the shadows. The side of his face is lit up soft hues of green and red. At our feet my imitation fireplace weakly tries to add romance. It’s not quite a crackling fire but it’s cozy and we’re curled up in each other’s arms.  It’s getting harder and harder to leave, to be apart. He whispers a question, and for a moment I think he’s teasing me. He’ll grow tired of me quickly, I’m less impressive when viewed daily and a rough day takes it’s toll on me. When I come home with the euthanasia’s of the day tangled in my hair like so many little birds, pecking and squawking and refusing to let go. When angry words from clients are etched and glowing in my skin after carrying them around all day. What then? Where would I go when things aren’t perfect? What if they are imperfect for too long? What if I stop belonging and have traded security for... for what? Every time my thought train gets here, it derails. This ha...

I don't know who I've been the last decade and a half. I mean, I know I've been me, I've been solidly in this head because that's how heads work. I made choices and had great experiences and felt all kinds of new things. But I don't know who I've been. And the only reason I know that is because I looked in the mirror today for the first time in years and saw me. I feel more connected to the strong me, the inner me who has been asleep for so long. The me who stands on solid ground and knows her path. The me that didn't have shit figured out, but always landed on her feet anyway. I stood in the lobby of my work today, marveling that I was in a leadership role. That I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't stop for just one moment and see everyone looking to me for the answers, for the direction of where to go. Not because I held anything special but because I felt like me. Just me. I was impressed by my own attitude, by my own actions and words. For...