In Search of Crazyness


I am bored. Polyamory is not always exciting. Like monogamous life, it can be dull as dishwater. Having two partners is different from having just one, but that does not mean it is a constant roller-coaster of novelty. Two relationships is just twice as much of the normal relationship stuff.

The human brain is an interesting thing. It adjusts to new circumstances so that the things you believe will bring you constant joy, excitement and even contentment, quickly become old hat. Studies show that most relationships have a honeymoon phase–a buzz-inducing period where you are just high on each other 24/7–and this eventually mellows into comfort and familiarity.

One theory is that once we become accustomed to someone, we lose that crazy energy as a way of preventing in-breeding. Living with someone in day to day life may strip our ability to feel that frenetic attraction as a way of assuring that the people we live with as family do not become lovers. Makes sense, but that doesn’t make it any less of a pain in the ass.

I am not bored of Papa Bear. I am not even bored of my husband, who I’ve been with for almost 11 years. But I am bored of my life.

Its interesting, because the way that love emotions level out, is pretty much the same as how excitement about anything fades with time. A new car, a new house, a new job, or a new baby also loses novelty after awhile. Things we think will boost our overall happiness generally do so only temporarily–and then we’re back to our normal mood. If we’re generally a happy person, we’ll return to being generally happy. If we’re generally depressed, we’ll return to that. If we’re somewhere in the middle, we’ll find the middle again.

The good news is, that we don’t need a new person in order to regain that excitement that we had in the beginning. What we need, is new experiences to share with that person. Everyone is different, but I personally love change. I love thrills. I love doing things I’ve never done before.

It is not unusual for me to get frustrated with my relationships because they are not providing me with the new experiences that I crave.

Papa Bear is on vacation right now, which has prompted this new wave of boredom. He and The Wifey are across the country visiting their best friends. They are partying and drinking and playing poker, and I’m here doing the same-old, same-old. Working during the day, taking care of my kids until bedtime, sitting in front of the computer until its time to go to bed. Rinse, repeat.

Before he left though, it wasn’t much different. He was sick for awhile, and then I was, so we spent the past few weeks just laying around in bed, watching movies. The husband and I rarely ever go out together, and when we do, its generally for dinner. He gets a burger. STOP THE CRAZINESS.

Part of the problem is that I don’t have any friends here. Papa Bear and I don’t have mutual friends, either. So even though I want to travel in a pack on road trips and to clubs and to the mountains or the beach, we don’t even really have that option. A couple of weeks ago we bought tickets to a fetish party. We were SO excited to finally do more of the crazy, fun shit that we both crave. And then I found out two of my co-workers were attending, and was suddenly in a panic.

We couldn’t go if they were there. It’s not the fetish stuff, per se, though that is tricky enough to navigate. It’s the poly thing. They know I’m married and that I have kids. What would they think if I showed up to a party like that with someone other than my spouse? What if word got out around work? I JUST got this job, and I love it. I don’t know anyone there well enough yet, to trust them to not let this affect my life at work. What if the rumour mill got started, and someone higher up didn’t think I was a good role model for our students, and I got canned? I couldn’t bear it.

We stayed home.

So like I said, this isn’t Papa Bear’s fault. My boredom, I mean. He WANTS to do things, its just that the circumstances have never been quite right. Either my co-workers are attending, or Sugar Daddy also has tickets (shudder), or his in-laws are here, etc, etc. But even if he wasn’t into it, that should have no bearing on me. On my life.

It’s not just that I want to go to fetish events. There is so much other stuff I want to do, too. Salsa dancing or burlesque classes. Girls’ nights out through Meet-up. Music festivals. Pub crawls. Terrible, drunken karaoke. Maybe even a rave.

Why don’t I feel like I can do any of these things? Its the time commitment. The idea that if one of my loves doesn’t go with me, I am wasting time that I could be spending with them. Why do I think this way? It is incredibly screwed up. If Papa Bear does not want to take salsa lessons, or can’t attend Girls’ Night, or my husband doesn’t want to go to wine and painting night, or check out Burning Man, why do I feel like I am somehow robbing them of my time? It’s my time–the only one I am robbing is myself.

I need to be my own person. I am allowed to have my own life–to do my own thing. If I’m bored, there’s nobody to blame but myself.

5 Comments on “In Search of Crazyness”

  1. A_Female says:

    Sounds like you need to schedule a date night for you and yourself 😉

  2. plantpage says:

    Do some fun stuff with the kids.

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