I just read this decent, basic article about being a poly mom. Very mainstream. I commented on it, which is the first time I’ve commented on a mainstream blog.

Here’s the text of my comment:

It’s so great to see an article like this in a publication directed to moms.

I’ve been poly my whole life, and I’ve always been out about it, but it’s hard in “mom settings”. People assume that marriage kids=monogamy; many of them have never even heard of polyamory.

I just got back from a camping trip with my husband, my boyfriend and all seven of our kids (my husband and I have three, my boyfriend has four). We had a great trip; the kids played together non-stop. My boyfriend even took the baby and gave my husband and I a rare two hours alone together.

The kids have known each other all their lives and are great friends, and we share a family bond that helps us all be better parents and partners.

I see monogamous couples thriving all the time, but I can’t imagine how they do it. Being poly seems so essential to the success of my marriage/family.

I’m surprised by the venom expressed in some of these comments. I’ve never experienced that kind of harsh judgement from anyone who’s met me and my family. I deeply believe that having more loving adults in children’s lives only enhances them. Stable loving homes are what kids need, no matter how many adults they share them with.

I have a few longer thoughts that I’ll ramble about here in my journal: for a long time I was pretty lukewarm to the need for poly activism of any sort. It’s seeming more and more important to me though. Commenting on this blog article was my tiny, tiny action for the day.

I’ve noticed over the past year how hard it is to be open about being poly in parenting settings because there is no language for it and no cultural expectation that it’s possible. I have to either deliberately, carefully out myself or stay closeted in every interaction on a playground, every conversation with a mom at preschool or swim class.

is a huge part of my life, and my kid’s lives. Every time I pass him off as a friend, I feel like an asshole (and I hear that Concrete Blonde song running through my head for the rest of the day). Every time I out myself about being poly, I feel acutely uncomfortable. Not because I’m embarassed about my life, but because it’s a level of detail I would not normally share with strangers or acquiantances.

Case in point: we are at a children’s concent in Belmont. The little girl sitting in front of us wants to make a play date with Rio, and her mother asks if we live in Belmont. The obvious, true answer is “No, but my boyfriend does, so we’re here a lot.”

But I’m at this concert with . If I casually mention having a boyfriend, I have to explain, in the church foyer as the crowd for Snow White dissapates, that I am in an “open marriage”, that my husband ,standing beside me, is “ok with things”, and reassure her that really our lives are quite dull and normal and not filled with wild sex parties. And then I have to try to exchange phone numbers so our kids can play.

I think if there were more public visibility of polyamory in general, and especially of poly families, I’d have an easier time of it. Of course that visibility comes from some brave souls being willing to throw themselves on the grenade of social awkwardness. I just wish it didn’t have to be me. I’m not very good at it, I don’t like doing it. I only rise to the challenge when I’m awake to the fact that my silence chips at something valuable in my life – the ability to connect, to be honest, to be simply who I am with pride and dignity.

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