I’ve written an awful lot of personal things on this blog and in my books over the years. I suppose that’s part of the gig. I’ve always written (it’s just the way I’m wired, it’s how I cope), but I was driven to write in public and specifically focusing on non-monogamy especially at the beginning because a lot of what I read back when I started in polyamorous circles wasn’t authentic. Oh, sure, it sounded good. But it hid a lot of the messier realities. When things got complicated, the books dipped out a bit — never engaging more than a simple “well, it gets complicated, you do you,” a literary shrug, and a topic change.
Now, I did find some of that authentic writing. But never enough. It was mostly available through teeny-tiny blogs, whose authors updated infrequently (much to my dismay). These authors were mostly anonymous but wrote the truth in raw, unfiltered form. They weren’t concerned with bringing respectability to the movement or what The Public would think about them. They were simply writing about their experiences — usually a mix of fascinatingly lovely, interesting, and frustrating/challenging.
I couldn’t get enough of that. So when I launched the Poly Land project, that’s what I did. I became the sort of writer that I would have been obsessed with back in the day. It’s been an interesting ride. I have a lot of lovely, devoted readers (honestly you’re amazing, I have the best readers). And there are those who really wish I wouldn’t write at all (some of those continue to read me regularly, which astounds me).
It’s Been Uncomfortable Figuring Out the Ways I Contribute to My Own Unhappiness… But It’s Essential
I’ve done a lot of soul searching over the last 4+ years I’ve been working on the Poly Land project. And most of it has been in public. Usually on a time delay, mind you — as I’ve written before, I’ll tell you everything but you’ll never see dirty laundry. By this, I mean that I only write about something publicly if I have personal closure on something. I don’t write publicly about something until I’m over it. If I don’t need a response from the people the piece is about or from the people reading about it.
I’m happy to say that this spring has already been quite transformative for me so far. I’ve managed to work through some deep and heavy stuff and have emerged from a rather gnarly bout of depression with new insight into myself and the way I approach the world.
Am I ready to tell you the details? No. It’s too new, too raw. It wouldn’t be psychologically healthy. But when I really leaned into a few key things I was quite defensive about, it was terribly uncomfortable — but I learned important things that I won’t soon forget.
It’s been uncomfortable figuring out the ways I contribute to my own unhappiness… but it’s essential.
As I write this post, I am happier than I have been in a very long time. Appreciably happier than I was just a few days ago — when nothing in my life has changed. Except for my outlook.