Things don’t last forever, but we like to pretend that they do, don’t we?
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Things are different now, certainly. I’m not completely sure exactly how they are different yet.
A life reboot doesn’t happen often. Things are new. Strange. There’s excitement, yes, but also much trepidation and quite a bit of sadness and loss.
Divorce’ll do that, I suppose.
♦◊♦
And so we come to the end of the line for the Becketts.
Over the last two years our interests were growing apart further and further. When it came right down to it, we stopped being friends. And we liked being friends. So after much discussion, planning, and exploring, we realized that we were better for each other out of the marriage than in.
Impermanence.
Things don’t last forever. We like to pretend they do, don’t we? There are cottage industries based on happily-ever-after. This is one of the single most pervasive concepts in all of media. That perfect fit.
Things don’t last forever. We like to pretend they do, don’t we? There are cottage industries based on happily-ever-after. This is one of the single most pervasive concepts in all of media. That perfect fit.
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But we, the non-monogamous, we know that isn’t quite right already, don’t we? If there was that perfect fit, that one person that we could live happily ever after with, we wouldn’t really need anything (anyone) else, would we? Here’s where some swingers will attack. They’ll say that they don’t need anyone else, they choose someone else. And sure, many of them could close up swing-shop at any time, for any reason, and live out their days with their partner in a return to monogamy. But I wager that’s not true for most.
Or is it that we humans are just tremendously bad at picking our mates? The divorce rate is almost sickly high. Stage 3 at least. Is it because we feel pressure to lock in that perfect person early, before we’re ready? We tick the boxes and say, “Welp, she got fourteen out of twenty, and the six she don’t have ain’t so important.” Not sure why that was in a dialect just then. Could you hear it in your head? I could.
The bottom line is that most relationships end before death. Most. And not just the majority of marriages. All the attempts at relationships in our lives also end. The short term, the long term. The best one for us may simply be the most suitable at this time and in this place.
My relationship with my ex-wife was like a great vacation. Most of it is awesome, you do fun things, you try new stuff. But there’s vacation fatigue, and a little bickering, and ultimately, you go home. This doesn’t make the vacation less great, though. I choose to remember my marriage fondly, like that great vacation that came to an end, as all vacations do.
♦◊♦
So what of the non-monogamy?
Well, way back at the beginning of the podcast, we asked the boys and the girls a set of questions, one of which being “Could you ever stop being non-monogomous?” For me that answer has always been, and remains, no. Just because my primary relationship has ended doesn’t mean I’m shopping for a primary mono. I firmly believe in the tenets of non-monogamy, namely that one person simply cannot fulfill all my needs. Many. Most, perhaps. But not all. Emotional. Sexual. Most.
Without my marriage and how things unfolded, I would not be the person I am; and regardless of what the Internet may say about me, I’m a damned sight better than last year, five years ago, ten years ago, fifteen.
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And the inevitable “did you break up because of non-monogamy” question? You saw it in the room, its trunk poking out from beneath the davenport. My answer is a no. But a little.
When a relationship is falling apart in the mono world, you often have nowhere else to turn. You feel a bit of “I’ll never love again” or “if I still have emotional needs, I better try to keep those emotions flowing with my partner.” Whereas in a non-monogamous relationship, you have other people to help shoulder the burden of these needs. Monogamy has an effect similar to kids on a relationship. One more reason to stick it out.
Boy, both the monos and non-monos may hate me for that one.
In truth, my marriage ended because of growing differences between us. Namely how we wanted to enjoy our lives. The non-mono thumb on the scale may have simply tipped it.
Four and a half years ago my marriage was ending, and non-monogamy gave us four and a half more years, arguably the best of our marriage.
♦◊♦
I wouldn’t trade my marriage for anything.
Nor would I use a time turner to take back the non-monogamy. In my still-developing Zen mode, I see all of this as stepping stones. Without my marriage and how things unfolded, I would not be the person I am; and regardless of what the Internet may say about me, I’m a damned sight better than last year, five years ago, ten years ago, fifteen. I’m confident, I’m driven. I feel like I have purpose. That is thanks to Marilyn. That is thanks to where that decision four and a half years ago led.
Without that, I wouldn’t have most of what is in my life currently.
Now, a reboot.
I’ve often thought, as many of us have, what would happen if I’d known “then” what I know now…if I had played things differently. Well, I get to experience a unique pleasure at the moment: that of knowing and starting fresh. The world is a scary place to suddenly change your life in a dramatic fashion, but Current Me is a hell of a lot better prepared than Past Me.
And I have such wonderful people to lean on, to love, and to look back on with fondness. Thank you, Marilyn. Thank you for our time. You were fantastic, absolutely fantastic! And you know what? So was I.
I hope your reboot is spectacular!
I’m gonna do my damnedest to make sure mine is.
This essay originally appeared in the memoir My Life on the Swingset: Adventures in Swinging & Polyamory.