I began testing the waters and then diving deeply into the world of polyamory in middle age, an experience I recently chronicled in an essay for Sari Botton’s wonderful Oldster Magazine. Separate but related, my essay also touched on all the great sex I’ve been having since wading into ethical non-monogamy (ENM), which is most certainly a fringe benefit but also speaks to how comfortable, happy and secure I feel in this body, in this headspace, in this moment.
Let’s look at that second part of my current journey first, shall we?
I recently saw this statement on the very well-done social media account from jewelry designer Alexis Bittar, accompanying a photo of some great looking (female) legs clad in stockings and a garter belt: “Sexuality in your 50s…rarely discussed, often shunned…Women are sexual in their 50s and beyond. Needs to be embraced in the same way men’s sexuality is when they age. What’s wrong with sexuality as you get older?”
Not a damn thing, Alexis. And thanks for adding your voice to this (BTW, his jewelry is gorgeous; I’m a long-time fan) because it needs to be said: middle-aged women are no longer okay with being deemed invisible (were we ever???) or sexless or “done”—at least, no one I know would classify themselves in this way.
So, did polyamory ignite that sexual fire in me or did the sexual fire flaming bright in me lead me to examine polyamory? I’m not sure, but in discussing this with my primary partner B., one thing he said about the topic definitely struck a chord: we put a lot of effort into being good to each other and honoring our relationship. Further, when I say “each other,” I’m not just speaking of B. and me.
“Make sure, when you’re writing about polyamory, that you tell people how much work and communication we put into it. What you’re writing shouldn’t be just ‘clickbait’ about f***ing. We’ve been through a lot, in some ways, more than some couples who have been together for much, much longer. You hear constantly about people who are furious at their spouses for years after an affair, or whatever, but yet it’s never discussed. We discuss everything.”
Truer words have not been spoken. While we happily live together, B. and I have been partnered for just less than a year. Our relationship works so well because our communication style has always been really honest, open and (mostly) easy to navigate. We do discuss everything, and that means we don’t shy away from the challenging topics. Surprisingly, one element that been almost effortless to navigate is B.’s other partner, T. T. is my metamour and I adore her.
Does that sound like bulls**t? It’s not.
In my piece for Oldster, I wrote, with regard to exploring, “I realized that there was a lot in polyamory that appealed to my greater sense of abundant love, of ‘cup runneth over’ desire and companionship and real honest talk among various people with whom I was sharing body and soul. I lapped it up like a cat would cream.” That most definitely extends to T., who, in addition to loving my partner, loves me and is an enormous champion of our relationship. A few poignant moments with T. come to mind that I want to share here:
- B. and I had a doozy of a fight over the summer about what I felt was s**tty communication regarding a (now former) casual partner of his. I was upset and hurt. B. was angry and lashing out. While B. and I were cooling off from each other, the person from whom I sought solace was T. (along with her spouse), who were extremely supportive of my POV. When B. and I did mend things between us the next day, both of us acknowledged how T. was there to listen to each of us, to give us both advice, and – very importantly – to not talk out of both sides of her mouth, but rather to state her opinion as she saw it, regardless of the fact that T. is B.’s lover. In this instance, she told B. that she thought he handled the situation incorrectly. I felt like she was an ally to both of us. I always feel like that with T.
- T. and I have lots in common in addition to loving B. and we have our own dates together that is the ultimate girls time. T. and I have fallen into bed together exactly once, when there was a group dynamic going on with a handful of people, but that’s not where our relationship is destined to go. That being said, discussing dates T. will have with B. or sexy shenanigans that B. and I have alone or with others is part of our lady friend chit-chat. It feels completely normal. T. and I both swap stories with each other the way I would with other female friends. We are great pals who share tidbits and tales and this-and-that about someone we love (in this case, the same man).
- Related to that last anecdote, T. sent me a text a few months ago, asking if B. was okay because he hadn’t responded to a few messages she’d sent. I told T. that B. might not be looking at his phone with regularity, and that we were away in a cell-reception-challenged locale upstate. I asked T., “Do you want me to tell B. to call you?” and T.’s immediate response was, “No, just wanted to make sure everything is okay. I don’t want to cut into your time together.” That little thing – that honest reach-out and loving courtesy – meant a lot. When B. and T. are together, I endeavor to do the same – give them their time together, with the same grace and love.
This is called kitchen table polyamory – the idea that you can sit around and share a cup of coffee with your partner’s other partner(s). For many polyamorous people, it’s more of a goal than a reality. For others, it’s a “no way, no thank you.” B. and I know it’s not for everyone, and we have other partners who don’t want to “go” here. But with T., it’s natural. It’s funny and warm and again, so, so easy. T. has made my (first) trip around the sun in polyville a real pleasure cruise. If nothing else but that for that alone, I love her too.