Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Telling the Truth

I have not written for the last month because I have not wanted to face the truths of my life and my relationship with Knight. Writing requires truth-telling. I have been avoiding the truth. I have been hiding away and telling myself all kinds of sad stories instead.


I have been telling myself for months the story that I need to be fixed, that I am broken, wounded, and unable to have healthy (poly) relationship because the way Knight is choosing to do poly and be in relationship to me causes me suffering.

But it isn't true.

I faced my demons and dug through the past and tried to approach love from every possible conscious angle in order work through my poly issues to stay connected to Knight. I brought everything I had to the table -- everything I know and am daily learning about conscious relationship, psychology, spirituality and love. I tried to fix my mind and my heart, thinking that if I just worked on myself hard enough I would stop suffering. (And I have been so very mean to myself in the process.) But no matter how much work I do on myself, the truth is that my needs and desires for Knight and for relationship aren't being met. We want different things from our relationship. When I take all the wounded stories away, the truth is that I desire more than a part-time relationship with the love of my life. If I am going to give my all, I need someone who will bring their all to the table for me and for our relationship.


I have been telling myself for months the story that I might be crazy and that I can't manage my emotions. My mother never got better. My mother died because she had a psychotic break after years of trying to heal her depression. She was a narcissist and narcissists rarely get better because they can't get out of their self-obsession. I had a tough time convincing my doctor the other day that I was once Borderline because Borderlines don't usually get better either. She told me Borderline is on the Narcissistic spectrum (which makes sense). The laws of both nature and nurture are against me in this. It is so easy to believe the story that I am and always will be mentally ill because I feel emotions so deeply.

But it isn't true.

The truth is that I have been at the mercy of crazy hormones the last few months because I have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome and this is the new way it is manifesting (I will write more about PCOS and its impact on my life in another post). PCOS can cause depression and severe mood swings. My mood swings have been on monthly cycles. I am not crazy. I have fucked up chemistry right now. I saw my doctor recently to take steps to become healthy and hormonally balanced again.


Today I learned just how healthy and loving that I am. Today I hugged the man who put a gun to my head on the night my daughter was conceived nearly 16 years ago. Today I celebrated with him the amazing and beautiful young woman that we created together in our violence and insanity.

Today I came full circle with the night I hit bottom, when my insanity was at its worst, when I nearly lost my life while my 4 year old son was sleeping on the other side of my bedroom wall. That is the night that turned my life around. When I found out I was pregnant, I realized that I would damage two children the way I was damaged if I didn't pull myself out of the crazy. So I have worked on my self for 15 years. And I didn't just pull myself out the crazy. I raised two remarkable human beings almost entirely on my own. I contributed to my community through my work and my volunteerism every year since, no matter my personal struggles. I am a successful artist, writer and community leader.

The truth is that I am not broken. I am fucking amazing. I am big and powerful and I am worth someone giving their whole heart to. I love big and I love deep. I need someone who will meet me in the big and deep.

As a dear friend once wrote about me, the truth is that I am woman living an ordinary life in an extraordinary way. I am a woman who desires (and strives) to love in extraordinary ways.

The truth is that I am a woman too big for part-time relationships and unfulfilling office work. It's time to move into a life that is as big as I am, in my work, in my relationships, in every way.


This past week I finally faced the truth. This past week I learned that I am not broken or unhealthy because I am not happy with the choices Knight is making in regards to our relationship. This past week I finally realized that I both desire and deserve more...that if I desire to give someone all of my heart, I should only be giving it someone who desires to give me all of theirs (even if they share it with others).

I am finally admitting what is true, to myself, to Knight and to my tribe so they can support me in letting go, so they can remind me why I can't go back (even though I am sobbing right now because I want so badly to be in his arms rather than walking away).


I will be writing again but this will no longer be the story of my relationship with Knight. While I believe we will eventually be close friends again, I am moving onto a new chapter in my life. This will be the story of my grief, my growth and my resurrection into greater love and joy.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Power of Your Intense Fragility

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
-e.e. cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands