Oh my gawd. If you want to know how not to do polyamory, go follow @polyhorror on Twitter right now. Addictive and hilarious if you’re old and jaded, illuminating if you’re a n00b.
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I don’t have a problem with guys who are nice. Nice people are great. Awesome, even. Some of my closer friends are guys who also happen to be nice.
However, one person, an acquaintance really, decided to remove himself from the fold of my Facebook friends because I posted a link to this article on Wired. The article is a gentle yet witty bit of advice to those individuals who describe themselves as ‘nice guys’:
If you are describing yourself as “nice” you are like one of those tiny motels where the sign out front just says “Air Conditioning — Color TV.” You are saying “I have nothing to recommend me other than a bare minimum level of acceptability.”
I found it amusing and posted it because the topic of “Nice Guys” is one I find amusing and irritating.
However, this ‘friend’ of mine first commented that he strongly identified with the subject of the article, and felt like it was personally attacking him. After two of my female friends commented in support of the article, he responded by accusing (them or the article, I’m still not sure, having deleted the comments) of making generalisations and not knowing him at all (and, further, cussing me out). Then, before I could respond, he promptly unfriended me.
Which was odd. Because for one thing, this ‘friend’ was not someone I regularly interact with. With his reaction, he made some pretty broad assumptions about my attitude and the article’s intentions, which, had he known me and the topic a bit better, he would probably not have made. For another thing, not the first article I’ve posted over the last two years on the topic of ‘Nice Guys’. And it was, by far, the least harsh and most forgiving.
What I would have said to this ‘friend’ before his, in my opinion unwarranted, reaction, was this:
The problem isn’t that some guys are nice. It’s that there are some guys out there who think ‘nice’ is enough of a rubric to attract a mate. Who think that being nice entitles them to a happy ending. Who think that because they are nice, their romantic feelings should automatically be reciprocated. THOSE ARE THE GUYS THE ARTICLE IS REFERRING TO. If the attitude I described above doesn’t apply to you, then you are not part of the problem. Guys who are shy, meek, timid, introverted or in other ways possibly labelled as ‘nice’ but actually, when you get to know them, are, funny, talented, intelligent, kind and caring: you’re ok. I shouldn’t have to say it, but yeah: If you’re nice but you don’t think that means a guaranteed ticket to pantyland, then these articles aren’t about you.
Sadly, ‘nice’ is not enough. There are plenty of guys who do have a lot more to offer than ‘nice’ and being nice – as in kind, considerate, caring, understanding, forgiving, warm, cuddly – is a plus. But it is not, and in my opinion should not be, enough in itself.
Part of the problem is that too often, a clear definition of what ‘nice’ means is difficult to ascertain. I’ll tell you a story.
Well I’m quite chuffed to say I got to do my part to contribute to poly-visibility!
I was recently asked to be on a local radio station’s Friday night show, Friday Night Lip Service (site seems to be down, so no link) to speak about my experiences with polyamory. There were quite a few people in the studio but I ended up being one of the main talkers. It’s hard to shut me up, I guess! We covered a variety of topics and I repeatedly plugged this site, so some readers may have already heard it. Afterward, I was asked if I wanted to be a regular on the show, and I said yes! Between that, my husband, my son, my girlfriend, my boyfriend and a play that I signed on to do, I think I officially have overcommitted myself now. Ah well, at least things are going well on all fronts and I’m a happy momma.
I haven’t listened yet, but I felt like I did a good job representing, at the very least, my own opinions!
Hope you enjoy!
Today the little one and I did a bit of planting. I had already conditioned the soil, mixing in some composted cow poo and mixed it with the existing clay-like soil until it was nice and dark and settled in. Today, we stirred it up, planted heaps of rainbow chard, plus some corn and strawberries, and mulched the top. As I scooped the handfuls of wet sugar cane straw onto the soil, I felt good. I imagined the harvest that would come, and was happy with my choices.
Last year, my vegetable garden was somewhat of a disaster. I planted too many tomatoes, and it completely overgrew my patch, choking everything else out. I also planted too late and so when I the tomatoes were ripening it was already starting to frost. This year, I stuck to a veggie I know I like, which can be harvested for a long season. And it looks nice too, so if I don’t harvest it all, at least it’s decorative.
In my love life, I’ve started two new relationships. One has been going on for a couple of months now, and is going surprisingly well. The other is new, but with a friend I’ve known for some time and we’re trying out a new direction in our relationship. In both cases, I’ve taken things quite slowly. In both cases, I’ve chosen people who are committed to an open-style relationship and they both have existing primary partners. They’re also people with whom I have a lot of common interests and passions, and who offer a lot of new things in my life. And in both of these new relationships, these people have been open and honest with me, have enjoyed sharing things about themselves; their lives, their passions and their quirks. (Intimacy is my kink.) So I think the future is looking pretty bright.
And so, I’m happy. A new garden and new sweeties.
I just need to find some good recipes for rainbow chard. Like, a million of them.
My paramour has departed on a long business trip, leaving me feeling rather sad and full of longing.
It’s not just that he has gone away and I won’t see him for a month, but he’s also staying just 20 minutes from my hometown, in the part of the world I grew up in.
So I’m not just missing him, I’m also incredibly homesick.
I didn’t think I’d be this affected by it. I’ve got other things to occupy myself, like my son and all the exercise I’ve been doing lately. But I think the double hit of missing him and missing home is taking its toll on me.
A big part of me doesn’t want to be here right now, and I’m having a really hard time focusing on what I need to be doing.