My Version of PerfectionPosted: July 30, 2014
You can’t always get what you want. Life has a way of turning out however it turns out. Sometimes, though you get the next best thing. You alter your expectations based on the limitations of reality. You realize that things might not be perfect, but they can be a version of perfection.
I have been thinking a lot about dreams and reality lately. I am a dreamer. I dream big. There is so much that I want to do with my life, so much that I want to experience and explore.
I used to have this crazy bucket list. When I wrote it, I’m sure most of what was on it was completely possible.
Adopt a child.
Spend a summer in Greece.
Learn to ride a motorcycle.
Start my own not for profit.
Touch a rainbow (okay, maybe not so possible).
Have sex all night (possible, yet still yet to happen!)
Get a tattoo.
Fall in love.
Write a book.
Audition for a broadway show.
And on, and on, and on. There were lots. Some of them I have already done, some I am still waiting for, and some will clearly never happen.
That is okay.
I don’t even remember all my bucket list items, but of the things I would still like to do, I have been thinking about how to make them possible, even if it is different from what I had originally envisioned.
For instance–adopt a child. Well, this was written in my late teens, before I knew that I would end up having multiple unplanned pregnancies, and biological children. I had always wanted–and my husband had agreed–to adopt children instead of giving birth to any. But life happens, wouldn’t change it, and now we won’t be raising any kids besides the two that we already have.
However–there is more than one way to be family. Maybe we’ll be honorary parents to a kid who doesn’t have a good relationship with theirs. Maybe one day we’ll “adopt” a foreign university student whose family is overseas and needs a place to hide out when dorms get to be too much, or it’s Thanksgiving or Easter or Christmas and they don’t want to be alone. Maybe decades from now, we’ll have a struggling single mom living next door, and we’ll step in and become Grandma and Grandpa to her little ones. You never know. But I’m sure our adopted child will come to us as long as our hearts are open.
Maybe instead of spending a summer in Greece–which is expensive as hell–I’ll go someplace that is not on the Euro (Poland, perhaps?) and make base camp there. . .and travel by train to Greece where I’ll spend a few days.
Instead of falling in love once and for all, and living happily ever after, I have discovered that my heart has the capacity to love an infinite number of people romantically. And one doesn’t get bumped out just because another enters the stage. I just make room for more. Perfection has many faces.
I have been thinking, too, about my perfect family. I’ve mentioned before that I would love to have a big, happy, poly family someday. Kids running in and out of each other’s houses, growing up like pseudo-siblings. Multiple adults who are romantically and sexually involved with each other. Shared vacations and camping trips and Christmas mornings. This would be my ideal.
However, The Husband likes his space. The poly community where I live is small–what are the chances of finding just the right combination of people who all love each other and all want to be so closely knit? Then there’s the blood family to consider–their reactions (aka, freak out). And the community at large, from which we would likely have to hide the nature of our connections in order to avoid the children becoming pariahs. My dream does not include ridiculous amounts of complicated, but I live in the real world, and so complicated it would be.
So I’ve been thinking alternatively. . .considering the idea of a kink family. It is largely appealing to me. A circle of couples, triads, Dominants, submissives, kinksters, hedonists and fetishists, Daddies, baby girls, Masters, slaves, Owners and pets, who love each other like family. Experienced Doms share their wisdom with the newer ones. Submissive sisters and brothers talk each other through this journey. Baby girls have slumber parties and chick flick marathons, while their Daddies and Doms are out of town at a kink convention shopping for new ways to bring them to their knees. We’d surround each other through break-ups. We’d baby sit when a mama is sick. We’d book a huge camp site for Kinky Camping, and go skinny dipping late at night. There’s more than one way to be a family.
Now, I am still dreaming…I know that. But Leather Families, Houses (whether everyone lives together or not), Packs, and kink brothers and sisters do exist. It’s a thing.
And it’s a thing that could be mine.