The main problem with having more than one lover is explaining it to other people. They seem to have a relegation table in their head, which means that if I mention one all others are knocked into oblivion until the next time they are mentioned, when surprise is expressed (“but I thought you were involved with A? Why are you getting all whiny/dreamy-eyed about B?” etc, etc, etc). The lovers themselves all know about each other, because at least one person in the shady world of clandestine affairs has to be honest with everyone concerned, and that person would be me. So far, so open and civilized. The fact that some of them tend to refer to all others as “that retard” is neither here nor there, and nor is the fact that one occasionally appears surprised that another, or others, is still in the picture.
It is a delicate balance. Unless you are with someone who positively gets off on the fact that you’re fucking other men, it seems somewhat crass to announce your every fuck in public (leaving aside, obviously, any issues related to the inherent crassness of sexblogging). I’ve had lovers in the past who liked a rundown of who I’d been in bed with since the previous meeting, and others who were happy to sexually matchmake for me, but that’s not necessarily the case now. If I fudge the issue (which I do) of the extent of my involvement or the depth of my feelings for one to another, it’s less because I’m trying to hide anything than that I don’t see any point in rubbing anyone’s nose in what I do.
And it’s about this point that I begin to wish that no one I knew had the link to this site, far less anyone I’m in a relationship with. To the casual reader it may be clear that I write about more than one man, both in the present and the past – or it may seem that I do indeed write about one man with multiple personality disorders. That doesn’t particularly matter: this blog is not intended to be a journal, or an explanation – what can matter is if it’s apparent to one person that a post is not about them (or, in the case of many an unpublished post, about them).
If my best friends, who are also several, all meet up in a room, as they frequently do, my loyalty to any one of them is not an issue. If my lovers met up in a room, it wouldn’t be fun for anyone, even though they are all reasonable men. Sex complicates the matter, trailing as it does all its fragile gifts of intimacy and trust. With my friends, I am the same person, although they all feed different parts of me. With my lovers, I am still the same me, but it is a different aspect of me, thrown sharply into relief in the naked response. My loyalty then would be an issue, because it is, in each case, complete, and entirely separate from my loyalty to the others. Each one of them has a right to my full and undivided attention, and he has it. In that scenario, it would immediately be apparent that it is I who have multiple personality disorders. Each relationship is predicated on a relationship that consists of two people, and which necessitates a suspension of belief in the demands that any other can make, even while their demands are implicitly acknowledged.
It’s not really fair, this reluctance on my part to inflict one person’s claim to my emotions on another. I’m the Other Woman, after all: I automatically bow to the superior claims of the wife. But it’s part of my role as the Other Woman to fulfill the part that I am called to play, whilst endeavoring to still resolutely remain uncompromisingly myself (there aren’t compromises to myself – I’ve tried that, and it doesn’t work - but there are, undoubtedly, compromises).
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: no one I have a relationship with can replace anyone else.
No one is there to balance out the shortcomings or inconveniences of anyone else. The more-than-ones do not complete my composite ideal man, who does not in any case exist. Each relationship has its own history and reason for being, and each is both complete in itself, and, presumably, not enough. There is, in each case, the handicap of a built-in sell-by date, although it’s not clear when that will be – but at some point my role as the Other Woman will become obsolete, and that part of me in relation to them will quietly self-destruct. I don’t write that with any tragic pathos: it’s a fact, and part of the deal that I negotiate on my own behalf. I recognize the not-enoughness on both sides, but it doesn’t preclude depth of emotion: it’s want, but not need – or if need, then a circumscribed and containable need.
At the moment, I’m conflicted in what I choose to publish, and what I write and don’t publish is conflicted in itself. It will pass; it always passes. What it comes down to in the end, is that I’m happy with what I have, and what I have makes me happy, even when it saddens me.
June 15, 2008 at 10:12 am
Very well explained, although this is exactly how I felt during my time of having multiple lovers all either married or with long term partner, I could nt have expressed this so eloquently. Now I find myself in a very strange situation which perhaps I shall have to try to find words to describe if for no other reason than to get it straight in my own mind
June 15, 2008 at 1:20 pm
Reading this (and others like it) I take another tentative step in deciphering my own feelings on the subject. My past relationships with men define me as a serial monogamist, until now. Now I find I am this one’s wife, and that one’s lover. My imagination always told me it would be more difficult to keep it all straight (and maybe it is, maybe I’m just fooling myself), and I can’t yet imagine the day when both men will know about the other. But at least posts like this keep my head in the game and make me feel a little less paranoid that I’m completely off my rocker.
June 15, 2008 at 1:33 pm
It was brave to write this. It takes a lot of courage.
Yours,
.6
June 15, 2008 at 3:01 pm
Whenever I think I am the master juggler… I think of you. It’s interesting… in some ways, it really is less complicated, or at least difficult, than it appears. I do have a tendency, though, to rank, which you seem to be able to avoid.
June 15, 2008 at 6:23 pm
Sigh…
Since I’m playing with the possibility of managing more than one intimate relationship again, this post is more timely for me than you can imagine.
I read this post twice. Then sat with it for some time, noting first, how well you’ve been able to put this all into words and secondly, how it made me think deeply about the various times in my own life when I’ve managed multiple relationships.
I dearly want to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past but I’ve been wondering if that’s even possible. As Marianne says, I also have a tendency to rank, and this post made me wonder, as I often have lately, if some of us are just hard wired to do that (or not do it).
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that whole post really spoke to me, and I thank you, thank you, thank you for writing it.
But it’s this sentence in particular that I think I probably need to tuck in my pocket and carry around for a while:
What it comes down to in the end, is that I’m happy with what I have, and what I have makes me happy, even when it saddens me.
Well said.
Ok, wait, there is one more sentence that I have to mention:
…some of them tend to refer to all others as “that retard”…
That, my dear, was precious, and unfortunately, all too familiar
besides being just plain funny, it also made me realize that we (women) are not the only ones who rank 
June 15, 2008 at 7:33 pm
LiR, Akrazael, Marianne, Six and Elizavetta, thanks for your comments - and I’m probably going to end up replying to them in another post, as I realised (whilst lying in the bath, thinking: “why didn’t you say that, you fuckwit?”) that there was more I wanted to pontificate about regarding the whole subject.
June 16, 2008 at 1:39 am
I, too, had to read this more than once, think, and come back. Of course, part of the reason for that is the fact that Hawk is here with me this weekend.
As more time passes, as my intimate life becomes exponentially more complicated, I am increasingly grateful that neither man in my life (bed) knows about my blog. I don’t believe that I could write, in the way I need to, if either of them knew.
And I need to write.
June 16, 2008 at 12:34 pm
in spite of the fact that i don’t seem to be doing much, if any at all, of either right now, both the writing thing and the multiple lovers thing make infinite sense to me. although both can, at times, seem to run extraordinarily contrary to all sorts of ideas of self-preservation i might carry around, both have also been in my history, some times more than others, extraordinarily necessary to my sense of self-preservation.
June 16, 2008 at 6:37 pm
Beth, a lot of what I write ends up not seeing the light of day. Sometimes I resent that, and in some cases I think it’s not a bad thing - and some of it just comes out in a different form.
Tara, I think the multiples are very necessary to my sense of self-preservation, as well as somehow just inevitable - as is the writing
June 17, 2008 at 3:10 am
Interesting.
I’ve been dancing around a similar quandry myself; about what to reveal, what to conceal and what to fully obfuscate. While I think you’re providing many more questions than answers, in some ways, I find that more than a little useful.
June 17, 2008 at 5:26 am
Nash, feel free to ask questions. You are right though, there aren’t any hard and fast answers.
June 17, 2008 at 2:36 pm
Ive started to feel that perhaps one man just isnt enough to satisfy all the many parts of me - especially the neediest bits and this post has rather clarified that. I do wonder how you manage to keep the sexual bits separate tho. There must be some things that some boys do better than others and I expect I would find it difficult not to make comparisons or offer instruction which might not be well received if it comes from experience with another party…?
June 17, 2008 at 3:52 pm
This is a great post, Z. Honesty and clear boundaries can get you through anything IMHO. I so admire you for being able to do what you do. I also have a lot of sympathy for your concerns about lovers reading what you write and also for your frustration with people’s confusion about your multiple relationships (I know I’ve screwed up with that - sorry!)
xoAmy
June 17, 2008 at 5:52 pm
Cake, that’s a good point about the sex. But… it’s not really an issue. I think the relationships are so different, the men involved are so different, the way I respond to them sexually is different. They all have their own way of doing things, and preferences, and it’s a different sexual dialect with each. What works for me with one sometimes doesn’t work with another because the sexual dynamic is different. I don’t anyway think I could tell anyone much what gets me off, because apart from the basics (stick to the left side of my clit for best results, keep it rough on my tits, pull my hair and you’ll be talking falsetto for the rest of your life, etc), it’s as much to do with the headspace as anything else. And i think they would assume that if I express a preference it’s down to 30 years of experience, rather than what I learnt from the last man I was in bed with.
But also, because I am more passive than active, I enjoy working out how I can make the sex with each person work best for me… and I REALLY like letting them work that out too
Amy, I don’t blame people for mixing stuff up, and if it bothers me, it’s really my problem. I could be clearer, but I choose not to be. I agree about honesty and boundaries, even though they can be problematic at times - but I was taught the advantages of those by men who were very (annoyingly) clear about them. But the other point to bear in mind is that this suits me - I’m very antisocial, and can probably sustain several part time relationships far better than one full time one… and this way, I get all the good bits.
June 17, 2008 at 9:33 pm
I’m not thinking that I have the kind of questions that I can ask of you that I can honestly, earnestly expect you to be able to answer. The core of the issue is that my questions are similar to those you’ve already addressed for yourself; but are organic to my own little world.
Example:
You write about your current moment’s internal conflict about what to publish and what to keep to yourself. I can understand that perfectly well. In my own little corner of the world, I have one- only one- person that I know in meatspace that is even remotely aware of the false identity I’ve assumed here and there. Naturally, that person is the one I most feel the need to write about; but am locked in a massive combat in my own skull about what/how/when to write, and under what pretext and what masks to wear.
In the final equation, maybe it would have been wisest to not share the site with her; but by the same token, the places we’ve been together almost required it.
It’s vexing.
What to share? What to withhold?
That’s the eternal question.
In my anonymity, I seem to have lost just that. It’s a tangled, orgiastic mess of my own making; and I just can’t seem to unentangle myself.
How exactly was the Gordian Knot solved again?
June 18, 2008 at 5:09 am
Nash, I wrote this a while ago, and try to remind myself of it when I think too much about other people reading.
(The Gordian Knot? Wouldn’t it be better just to ball it up and throw it away?)
June 25, 2008 at 1:10 am
Hi…found my way here from Sugasm…but I am struck by the story you share…especially about the blogging.
I have been having multiple relationships for awhile now…and blogging about it. It is indeed a fine wire to walk emotionally to write honest, express emotions that need expression-including erotic ones and still not hurt anyone’s feelings.
I have found it impossible to never hurt anyone’s feelings.
MOstly because its impossible to shield others from their own insecurities and jealousies. I just can’t do that. So I’ve found some boundaries that work for me. I try to keep details nondescript. There’s maybe details from every man I’ve ever been with in most of my more recent erotica. And frequently its about an activity I feel emotion for doing…not something I did and am describing for the world to read. When I do the latter, it hurts feelings. Every time.
June 25, 2008 at 8:20 am
Greenwoman, I think you’re absolutely right when you say “its impossible to shield others from their own insecurities and jealousies.” In the end you have to find some balance between freedom of expression, and trying not to intentionally hurt anyone. I do expect, though, that everyone should have a certain respect for my right to express myself…
October 7, 2008 at 4:29 pm
yet another thoughtful post that is well worth the re-read. and, oh my yes, i welcome being at the roomful of friends gathering, and of course the lovers one, too, but admit i’d own some the shared angst, but it’d be well worth it, i’m sure.
October 8, 2008 at 6:01 pm
max, a roomful of ex-lovers gathering - perhaps. Present ones - not so much.