It has been almost a year since my last post. Not that I haven’t written, or tried to write.
Temptress is correct when she tells you I have hundreds of slips of paper in a folder waiting for personal time to transfer those free flow ideas into a readable post. The leather folio I had been using to hold every piece I brought home from work is now bulging, and I have had to transfer them into another folder to keep up with them all. There is no more organization to them, just a sad reminder that my time is no longer my own, and my life may never afford me the opportunities I once expected.
I’ve been processing all the changes I’ve experienced over the last 9 years. This blog was enormously therapeutic as long as I felt I could be honest. In review, I’ve discovered my writing lagged when I felt I couldn’t be fully transparent. Ever since our family began this blog, the one thing that held the integrity of our words, is that they were always spoken from the heart.
Many times I struggled with how to effectively word my feelings, how to guard our privacy, or when to share details. I questioned many times the choice between sharing our experiences, and not “airing dirty laundry.” As much as I wanted to help others, or entertain, or exercise my typing muscles; I erred on the side of protection. I protected our identities, I protected our relationships, and I protected Big.
I’ve recently read a wonderful offering by Stephen King. He’s normally not my genre, but his Memoir, “On Writing,” was entertaining and enlightening. The second half of the book was King’s personal edict to writer wannabes, like me. There was a lot of advice, a lot of suggestions, but the sum of his words always pointed back to the same thing; authenticity. The writer must write what (s)he knows, what he feels, what is true; if only to himself.
The problem is, with the Our Poly Life blog, I couldn’t speak my mind, and I found myself “massaging” the words from my heart. I didn’t want to be accused of spewing venom or maligning the exes. And when I tempered my words, I lost my authenticity. I was left with nothing but empty words that wafted in one ear and out the other without leaving a trace of depth.
“A little talent is a good thing to have if you want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every scar,” says Stephen King. One of my many “Queen of Heart” talents is how easily I remember things, especially the painful ones. For some people, that is not a talent, but a brick wall.
I want to write. I love writing. And I want to speak the truth. And I cannot do it here.
So, I’ve decided to move on. I’ve set up a new blog. And I’ve changed the names that protected the not so innocent. I want to be free to speak my truth about what I’m feeling, and what we’ve all been through. I want my turn at getting things off my chest; where any potential readers won’t be former spouses, or their girlfriends, or their girlfriend’s husbands, or their girlfriend’s husband’s girlfriends… well, you sense the bitterness, right?
This blog will stand archived. I may add a few tidbits here and there, but I’m releasing our readers. If you’ve stuck with us through it all, I extend my sincerest gratitude. May your poly path continue joyously…
~LG, April 15, 2012
“That’s it. I quit. I’m moving on.” ~Adele