Hello, my name is _____.

Almost a year, it's been?! So, so much has happened.

Last week Chloe and I moved our business into a new space. No more sharing with three or four other people - just us! Red provided extra muscle, and all the tech support. Our friends and family are excited for us. The days when working together seemed like a terrible idea (we'll get on each other's nerves, the Trifecta will dissolve and we'll be stuck dependent on each other, finances ruin romances)... those seem like a century ago.

Our little family is content. The three of us, plus two cats and a dog - oh yeah, we *never* thought we'd have pets together - we make a good household. All three kids live elsewhere now, and they're each doing pretty well. (Ripley in particular is on her feet, Red having done a fantastic job navigating the hardest stretch of parenting I could imagine.)

We're out of the closet almost everywhere; us girls are increasingly active in LGBT events, and Red joins in sometimes.

We're past the four year mark, and really wish we could be legally married to all of each other. There will be legal papers, and a ceremony at some point. It sure would be nice for that to be as "real" as everyone else's marriage, but I guess this is kinda what it was like to be gay and partnered, up until recently.

Here is a committed threesome of Swedes:

http://nordicinnovation.nu/swedens-blogging-polyfamily-goes-viral/

And there's another nearby, three men, who are good friends of ours. We are not as weird as I once thought.

In fact, you know what? Less hiding, more smiling.

Hi, I'm Kathleen. She's Michelle, and he's Sean. We are the Trifecta, and I am proud to love them both.

 

Incognito

Recently Chloe and I have attended a couple of really enjoyable local lesbian Meetup events -- Red doesn't seem to mind us running off together, especially if it coincides with broadcasts of multiple baseball games, which he then gets to watch guilt-free. Win-win-win!

Chloe and I do wonder whether this will one day be something Red gets worried about. But we keep taking his temperature, and so far no cause for alarm. It would be fun to bring him along to some of these, we keep thinking, but it doesn't seem socially appropriate. The one time Chloe tried to explain our situation to one of the women we met, it just didn't seem to compute in that person's head. Maybe it would make the women we're meeting uncomfortable, and that's not polite, especially in new company.

But the thing Red jokes about actually is a real, little bitty, niggling fear. "Don't tell them you're bisexual," he warns theatrically, "or they'll kick you out of the club!"

This is not, of course, a new issue. (See several previous posts here, and a truckload of articles and arguments in the LGBTQ world, for evidence.) But it's becoming a more concrete one for me and Chloe. The other day, since we were one of only two couples in a crowd of about 15 ladies, it was natural for someone to ask us "So, how long have you been together? How did you meet?" ... We exchanged glances and managed to tell pieces of the tale, along with a couple of "it's a reaaallly long story" interjections, without contradicting each other. Later we wondered if we should have a canned script ready for such moments.

And what's the worst that could happen? We get socially rejected? Probably only by some individuals, not all the people we've met (who seem pretty cool on the whole). We put someone a little out of their comfort zone? That's already happened plenty with our straight friends and family. I guess the gay guys have been so low-key, and there were already so many more of those in our lives than gay women, that we're not sure whether the girls are gonna be like "right on!" or back away like "hey, this space here is for actual lesbians". Chloe observed that the category in question is "girls who like girls", and in that respect we fit right in. Even if the number of girls each of us has ever liked is less than or equal to 2.

So do I get to embrace the subculture of not-straight women? Or do I have an asterisk? Should I be nervous about being found out as a poseur* or a fraud? For now I think I'll grab Chloe's hand, run to the beach for that barbecue, and come back to Red's fuzzy face to celebrate our growing circle of friends.


*The nerd in me is forced to observe that as a female person I am actually "incognita", and a "poseuse". Carry on.

Born This Way.

As we've come out of the closet to more and more people over these years, I notice a couple of patterns of reaction. One: Red must be some kind of PIMP DADDY to get two girls on him! Another: Missy must be like the most generous wife EVAR, to share the dude she already had legal claim to. Yet another: Chloe must have magical powers of seduction, and may actually be dangerous. And of course: well, y'all have fun and enjoy it while you can, cuz I tried that [or watched someone try it, etc.] and it never lasts.

Where to begin.

That last one is not really worth wasting breath over. Our Trifecta is a constant exercise in making it up as we go along, with the express goal of having it last forever. We've nailed down another year and a day, and I'm betting on a lot longer than that!

No, what I'm ruminating on today is the tricky business of explaining who we are and how we got to this place, and for that matter, how I understand it myself.

We recently attended our first "poly meetup", which was a pleasant non-hookup-y event in a low-stress venue with some very nice people. We'd been wary of going to any of the groups we learned about early on, because it seemed we might be at risk of sleaze. None of us want people thinking we're looking to expand the triad. So we waited until we came across a group that sounded like it was more family-oriented, not focused on "snuggle parties", and not happening on a Saturday night in a bar. It did feel nice to be among people who are not judgmental, and to hear about some of their experiences. But afterwards we realized: it wasn't clear that any of them were actually in the same boat as us. When we present ourselves as a long-standing three-person relationship, theoretically it could be a V with Red in the middle, or Chloe in the middle, or me in the middle (the default assumption is that the guy is the vertex), or it could be the actual three-way that it is. When we met other three-person groups last week, in some cases it was unclear what their deal was too, but in others it was explicitly "husband and wife plus husband's girlfriend" or vice versa.

I do not know how to describe us, either to new people or existing friends and family, without drawing a diagram:

 Red and Chloe are lovers.

Missy and Red are lovers.

Chloe and Missy are lovers.

By "lovers", yes we mean both physically and emotionally. If you've read much of this blog, you may recall that early on, there was a lot more sexual involvement in the first two cases than in the third -- that has evolved, much to my delight. And when Chloe and I go out just the two of us, people seem to receive us fairly readily as a same-sex couple. But when all three of us are together, the assumption is different.

Dear Reader: How do you imagine that the Trifecta got started? There have been allusions to it over time, but mostly to the effect of "it was Red's idea". When you hear that, what do you imagine? Apparently, the default is "he wanted to sleep with another woman and his wife was cool with that as long as it was a threesome". There is a grain of truth there, but only a grain.

The fact is, I was born bisexual. I realized almost 20 years ago that I'd been wired that way all along: besides having girls show up in my sex dreams and my fantasies, those intense fixations I got on various girls throughout my youth were actually romantic crushes, the same kind as I got on boys (though I couldn't identify them as such because it was too outlandish, too crazy, to be possible). By the time I was able to do so, I was already married (for the first time), and the option of stepping out and experimenting with girls -- never mind a threesome -- was just not on the table. Or so it seemed.

Once I'd been with Red for while, I shared all this with him, and he was not in the least freaked out. For his part, there was also some unfulfilled longing: he simply hadn't been with very many women, and wondered what someone else might be like. (My 20's had been quite lively, so although I was no longer interested in sleeping around, I felt a little sad on his behalf.) That's where it stayed for the longest time. Neither of us wanted to deceive the other, and giving permission to go extracurricular felt uncomfortable, so the feeling was "that ship has sailed, and we're happy sleeping just with each other".

Then a few years ago, an unlikely opportunity arose. There was a woman who was interested in Red, and when he was reluctant to get with her without me present, she agreed to include me ... because Red conveyed, completely truthfully, that I had always wanted to go to bed with a girl and hadn't pursued any opportunity. So this way, everyone gets at least a taste of what they want. Great! It actually was only great briefly, and that's all I have to say about that.

But the next thing that happened was even more remarkable. Red was already friends with Chloe, and I had been in social settings with her a couple of times. They'd had conversations that led Red to think she might be open to a threesome, so he ran it by me and then proposed it to her. (A very entertaining story, if he wants to tell it!) The understanding from the start was that this was to be low-stakes, fun, and if anyone didn't like it well then it's no huge loss.

The rest is history.

The POINT, however, is that we didn't get here because Chloe came along and seduced Red, with me tagging along -- nor because Red wanted to play the field, and convinced me to tag along. My desire to explore being with a girl was at least as big a factor. Far from feeling like the generous cool wife who's willing to share her man, I feel like the luckiest bi girl in the world. Selfish, even, sometimes. I get to have a girlfriend, and keep my husband too?!? That's an embarrassment of riches.

I don't presume to speak for either of my loves when I tell my version of our Creation Story. It's meaningful to me that (a) Red loved me so much that he wanted to help me explore my identity even if it might be scary for both of us, (b) Chloe was so open-minded that even though she'd never had a girlfriend, she was willing to find out what it would be like, and (c) I've grown enough by now that I'm not weirded out by my nature. I can't imagine having only him or only her. I guess that means "poly" is part of how I'm wired too. Long ago I wrote that I don't care about labels: that's true up to a point, but the prouder I get of who we are, the louder I want to rejoice.

"We're here, we're something out of the ordinary if not altogether queer, get used to it!"

Still here...

I have been reminded recently that we haven't kept the blog up very well this year...  We have been distracted with work and family, and frankly have settled in to day to day living in a way that just doesn't have enough drama to be posting about as often!

So what has been going on with us?  We've been trying to figure out (for a LONG time) how we can live together without coming out to the two younger kids (their mom is the ex-wife and a big meanie).  I'm not happy in my apartment, but still need to house my daughter, who is a full-time college student.  She was against living with us at the beginning, saying "it would just be too weird, mom," but has since spent enough time in family situations with us (and hates the apartment enough now) that she has become more comfortable with the idea.  The Trifecta has one bed, so in order not to be out with the two younger kids (who are there every other weekend and every Wednesday), I would need my own bedroom.  They each have their own room and my daughter would need her own room...sheesh...that's a five-bedroom house.  The coordination required to find a big house to rent, finding a renter for Missy & Red's three-bedroom house, at the same time the lease runs out on my apartment?  Nearly impossible, and prohibitively expensive.  It is a work in progress.

We enjoyed the first season of "Married and Dating" - the Showtime television series.  Our relationship is not like any on the show, but I appreciate that it's exposing people to the poly lifestyle.  We have been more active in trying to meet other families like ours (to share ideas and commiserate), and are meeting with a group in a couple of weeks - I'll have to update you on how that goes.

What else?  Missy and I attended the Pride Parade & Festival a few months ago - that's always fun.  My daughter was the designated driver for the event, and Missy gave her $20's along the way as hush money, which was brilliant!  "Here's a twenty for not telling anyone how silly we're being...here's a twenty for not laughing at us until you're out of earshot...here's a twenty for pretending we aren't drinking/dancing/giggling too much...here's a twenty to forget our silliness IMMEDIATELY...and here's a final twenty for not reminding us tomorrow of how silly we've been acting today (because we probably won't remember)!"  We also went to a local, smaller Pride Festival a few days ago and enjoyed it very much.  We were introduced to several organizations that will help us volunteer our time for and spend our money at businesses that value equality.   Every little bit helps - maybe someday I will be able to get health benefits and have a wedding and not need hide who I am to people.

Missy's "Year and a Day" sweetness was wonderful.  I have no idea what Red thinks of it, because he only has two feelings (he said it, not me), but it has made things feel more tangible and lasting in my mind.  I can't explain how, but it's nice to have something other than an open ended "we're together" type of relationship.  My feelings about commitment have become rather battered over bad relationships & divorces, and I have become jaded against something that has ALWAYS led to disappointment in my life.  But this feels different.  I'm hoping that in that "different-ness" I will find something that actually works for me and feels great along the way.

In closing, my sincere hope is that people reading our blog are able to see through the drama and (sometimes) bad writing, and will have a sense of our true feelings - feelings that this relationship is a good and lasting one, worth the trouble it causes, and worth the extra work it takes to nourish it.

Unhappy mess.

I am an unhappy mess. 

Lately I hate hanging out at Missy and Red’s house when there are normal everyday family things going on, because it makes me feel even more like an outsider than usual (and I usually feel a LOT like an outsider).  I am the elephant in the corner that everyone is afraid to mention.  I imagine their kids are wondering what the heck I am doing there all the time.  It doesn’t help that I practically have to sit on my hands in order to not hug or kiss someone off-handedly, or say something that would blow our cover – which makes me want to be there even less.   Missy and Red are the step-mom and the dad…I am…the Chloe.  I have no role, and it makes me sad.  I don't belong.  No, I don’t want Red to tell them about us – even if he actually WANTED to, his ex-wife is a raging…meanie. She would figure out how to take the kids away or get more money or do something else to make his life a living Hell.

Also, I have been worrying lately about what they say about decision making (whoever "they" are).  You know…that thing about how we keep making the same mistakes over and over again without realizing it?  I have had two ten-year marriages that didn’t work out.  I must be making a mistake. Clearly I can’t be making the SAME mistake this time, but am I making some version of a mistake that I’ve made in the past?  How would I even know what that mistake was?   While Missy and Red are in the Trifecta, their marriage is continuing, their family is stable, their retirement accounts are growing...  Meanwhile, at least to the outside world (which is unbelievably difficult to ignore), it appears as though my life is at a standstill.  I am a middle-aged mother living with a college student in an apartment with paper-thin walls.  I drive a used car that requires constant maintenance, I have a job with no future (or insurance or retirement fund), and I don’t date.  It appears as though I hang out a lot with a married couple who can’t seem to get rid of me.  If the Trifecta doesn’t last, I will be in worse shape than before, because I will be all that...and older.  

Man, am I being a big baby about all of this?

F*CK the Unicorn (and not in the good way).

Ok.  Admittedly, I am in a mood.

I read this:
http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2012/01/30/sl-letter-of-the-day-we-found-our-unicornbut-shes-engaged

I realize I am stuck on the moniker, and this isn't the topic of the article, but who wants the pressure of being "The Unicorn?"

On any given day, I usually appreciate and enjoy Dan Savage's advice.  I really do.  Trust me.  But who wants to be "The Unattainable," or "The Elusive," or the object of the "Dude! You didn't really think you'd ever get a piece of that, AND still keep your wife, did you?!" type of locker room banter.

Maybe some girls do, but not me.  Well, not at MY age anyhow.

All I have ever wanted was to be satisfied, and (dare I say?) happy.  Once in a while, (or ok, often...) some adventure and excitement in my relationship are great and fun.  Why is it so disturbingly rare to be in a happy, long-lasting, committed relationship?  Why is must it be even more rare to find two people to be loved by?  Is there some unimpassioned ruling entity out there that says "threesomes" must be made of hopelessly beautiful people, engaged in short term, fleeting and/or risque encounters?  Are there no other "normal" people out there who crave committed intimacy (with...eek! more than one person?) on a long-term, loving basis?  Please help me discover that someone else has forged this path and can offer advice that will make my daily living situation less...impossible.

We have told our story...we hear stories...but have we ever actually MET anyone?  Not all three of them in the same room at the same time.

Good for all you young, sexy, beautiful, successful twenty- or thirty-somethings, engaged in exciting, fulfilling threesomes.  I can hardly wait to read someday about how perfectly and wonderfully things worked out for you.  And I sincerely hope they do.

Haven't we (meaning "most people," I suppose) all been at some point, ridiculously fanciful and full of beautiful, utopian fantasies of the "dream relationship" occuring during our lifetime?  No one said it would be easy.  Only after one has experienced the excruciating emotions of not only love, but loss, hatred, grief, bliss, dissappointment, betrayal, jealousy, and spite (among all others), have we become whole, and therefore finally capable of experiencing that "dream relationship."  In whatever form it may take.

Wait.  Is it just me?

I am human.  I am no more or less special than anyone else.  I want to feel cared for and loved.  I want to care for and love.  I don't need to be labeled.  Not "The Third" or "The Prize" or (God forbid) "The Unicorn."   I am a human being - trying to be as satisfied as possible during the little time I have left on this earth. 

I would appreciate if you would refer to me and treat me as such.

Thank you.

P.S. - I have truly and sincerely, down to my CORE, fully enjoyed and appreciated all the special treatment and attention I have received over the past two years.  However, it wouldn't be fair to any of us if EACH ONE of us didn't feel that wonderful at any given moment.

NOT for the faint of heart.

For a while now, I have been trying to identify a single thing (or even a list of things) that might be the unspeakable thing that makes the Trifecta impossible.  Everyone tells us it’s impossible – that we don’t stand a chance…shoot, we tell OURSELVES that a lot.  Some people even tell us of similar experiences they’ve had that have failed, and why.  I suppose it’s a defense mechanism of mine…solve the puzzle of what “the thing” is so that I can try to avoid it or prevent it or fix it before it explodes in my face.  This is not for everyone – it is not for the faint of heart.

Well I haven’t quite figured out “the thing” (what am I, a genius?!), but I have narrowed it down to something workable that feels so much less frightening than the deep, dark unknown. 

It turns out that "the thing" isn't a single thing at all, but EVERYTHING.  Everything that I have done, seen, felt, thought, planned for, envisioned, etc. in a traditional M/F relationship has been one way – the way that society taught me, the way that was modeled by my parents and relatives and the way I learned on my own while dating and being married.  I became accustomed to it – expecting certain things, feeling certain ways, it was my norm.  Relationships were two dimensional.  Everything in the Trifecta is so much more intense than what I have spent my whole life learning – it is not “a thing” about the Trifecta that makes it volatile or fragile, it is the intensity level of EVERY SINGLE THING!  We are definitely in 3-D now.  The highs are higher, lows are lower, anger is more harmful, hurt is more painful…it’s like my world is more saturated now.  It can be beautiful, but it can also be excruciating and just downright exhausting. 

I feel like I learned to swim in a heated pool and have accidentally fallen into the ocean.  The idea is the same – I can still swim, but the waves are HUGE!  People drown out here.  There are things here that I don’t even know the names of…that could eat me!

This is not for the faint of heart.  We must be strong.  We must be careful.  We must be ready for anything.  The odds of one person being able to handle such a thing on an ongoing basis seems improbable.  The odds of my accidentally stumbling upon not one, but TWO other people who can do the same, and who want to be with ME?  Please.  That number has a decimal point and a lot of zeros behind it.

Who you callin' straight??

So that out-of-town trip last weekend was to where my oldest friend (from the first days of college) was throwing an insanely cool birthday party for his husband. Of the 16 people present, 10 were officially gay. As Red and I arrived, one of the other six (Tall Guy) greeted us with "Hey, good to see some other straight people here!" Standard banter for this crowd.

Later that night at dinner, we're pouring out yet another round of wine.

Tall Guy: "There ya go - and here's to the straight contingent!"

Me: "Heck yeah!" *clink*

Red: [elbows me in the ribs]

Me: (whispering) "Oh, right - wait, crap! Do I not count?"


Later, Oldest Friend hears this story and cracks up. Red solemnly observes: "We eschew labels." And that much, Dear Reader, is true.

This post is not about "what is my sexual orientation?" ... Not only do I not care what you call me, or what I call myself, I think the question is boring. I am Chloe-and-Red-o-sexual, is all that matters. No: what arrests me about this moment is the issue of Coming Out.

I noted in passing that a couple of months into our intense, jaw-dropping, dizzingly happy and also VERY SECRET relationship, National Coming Out Day came and went. I had no desire to walk through a cardboard closet door on the college plaza, though I did think that was awfully cute back when I first saw it. But I wish - dearly - that we didn't have to hide so hard. From family, friends, co-workers (all of whom think Chloe is wonderful but whose heads would explode if they really knew why we hang out so much).

We three have traveled out of town some, to get away from it all - which of course has the added bonus of a king-sized bed. (We actually went to a hotel seven miles from home one night, just for that part - I mean, even as close as we are, the queen mattress is a little crowded when it comes to sleeping.) It's been divine to squeeze Chloe's knee at the table, see her kiss Red at the next chair, feel her fingertips drifting across the back of my neck, and not worry that an ex-spouse's best friend might report back on the scandal. There are places where we can walk down the street hand-in-hand-in-hand and no one bats an eye. Then we get back to a bar near home a few days later, and at some point as we're talking and laughing Chloe leans over to kiss me, and at the last second we both spring back: shit! We're not allowed to do that here!

I get that part of being not-altogether-straight, now.

And honestly, it's one of the most painful things so far. It keeps me up nights sometimes. I love them both so, so much. I want to wear a little discreet piece of symbolic jewelry, and decorate them with the same. I want to take all our vacations together. I want to live in the same house, yes-in-the-same-room-why-do-you-ask-Mom?

We joke all the time about trading up to the giant California King size bed. But that's only a fraction of the way in which we don't fit.

A Win-Win-Win Situation.

Last night, worn out from the long drive home, and then blissed out from hours and hours of re-connecting with much-missed Chloe, I slept extra deep. Woke abruptly in the wee hours, and for a millisecond was convinced that it was her body pressed against my back. That was disorienting: it's rare that she gets to spend the night at our house, so ... was I in a hotel room? Were we traveling? Had I forgotten what day it was?

In an instant I realized there were actually just two people in the room, and it was the hairier of the bodies I love to be pressed up against that was really there. At home. Red shifted and slept on, as I got up for a drink of water.

On the one hand, I thought, I am the luckiest person alive. Loved by a wonderful man and an amazing woman. It never occurred to me that one could do this thing. On the other hand, it does invite a host of difficult challenges into one's life.

Like for instance: why do restaurant tables only come in rectangles?

This forces an awkward choice. Two on one side, so who is the odd person out? And does Third Person sit opposite the one, or the other? Are we supposed to remember who sat where last time, for fairness' sake? Little round tables are fine, but there's usually not enough room for all the knees.

And also: who rushes to whose defense when an unpleasant moment descends? Ah, thinks the Dear Reader, this is more what I was expecting. This three-some / three-way / triad / trio / thing must be full of unholy alliances, simmering resentments, and pitfalls just waiting to happen.

Well, it seems that when grownups take a deep breath and choose to give this a try, they may just be Paying Attention much more than usual. Because somehow the three of us are managing to take care of each other's needs, and our own, better than we ever did in any of the two-ways we've ever been in.

And did I mention the crazy good sex?