Don't Blink

I was telling Ryan how much I’m missing him. How long two months is going to feel. “But I want cuddles 🥺” I whined.

“At least you have Dakota.”

“That’s not the same. I want to cuddle with you.”

“I’m sure his cuddles are good enough.”

Actually, they’re better. But I didn’t say that. “You are two different people, not just substitutes for each other. Right now I want to cuddle you.”

Polyamory shouldn’t be “replacing” or “substituting” one partner for another. This is a lesson I learned early on. Each relationship should be its own fully formed picture rather than a single puzzle piece jammed in with your other relationships, desperately trying to make one full puzzle.

I call Dakota ‘babe’ like many people do to their partners. When I started dating Mike (I’ve mentioned him, the man I was dating before Ryan) I didn’t know what to call him. Mike didn’t get to be ‘babe.’ I don’t think he ever got a pet name, nothing felt right. I wasn’t used to anything besides babe.

I also decided Ryan didn’t get to be babe. The thing that came most naturally was ‘sweetheart.’ Unfortunately I am from the south and have a habit of pulling out sweetheart when I’m being politely condescending. He pointed out I only seem to use it when I think he’s being dumb. Ugh, he’s right. So now we call each other ‘Love.’ And my babe and my love can coexist in my world as completely separate but both very loved individuals.

A couple nights ago I texted Ryan as I headed to bed, “love you bunches.”

“Please don’t say that. Sara and I would say that.”

Something about this interaction got me in my feelings. I was sad for him. This was, honest to God, the first time that I saw he was sad about his relationship ending. Sad about his kid having to deal with the fallout, sad about “starting over” at 35, sad about a lot of aspects… but it never seemed like he was sad about their actual relationship. Because their relationship sucked. But obviously there had to be good aspects I didn’t see.

Literally the next morning I woke up and doomscrolled and this was one of the first tweets I saw:

That damn Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.

I know what it’s like, having a visceral reaction to a seemingly innocuous pet name or phrase or gesture. When I was dating Mike I told him how Dakota and I slow blink at each other. You see, cats will give you a slow, relaxed blink when they feel safe. It’s their way of saying they love you and trust you. So we frequently blink back at our cats, reciprocating the gesture. We started blinking at each other when covid hit. When we were out shopping and masks covered our mouths, instead of struggling to hear each other’s mumbles we would just blink.

Even now, years later, when we’re hanging out with friends and their conversation is too loud to talk over, when Dakota is sitting next to Jackie and I’m on Ryan’s lap, we meet each other’s gaze from across the room and slow blink.

Well, I told Mike what a slow blink means and later he tried to give me a blink. I tried my best to hide my discomfort and gently asked that he not do it. I didn’t realize how special our blinks were to me but I only blink at Dakota.

Even more triggering is when Mike kissed my stomach. Unlike with the blinks I did not hide my discomfort. I freaked out, and then we both paused to assess what just happened. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Just… Dakota kisses the baby…”

I’d had two miscarriages. Each time, for a couple weeks, Dakota would kiss the baby every night… before there wasn’t a baby again. So I’m sure part of the reaction was due to my trauma around fertility, but also it is something so intimate it’s reserved for Dakota. I don’t want another man kissing my baby or my womb.

It’s interesting to me, what random things get reserved for someone special in our lives. There’s so many little things that I carry through all my relationships, platonic and romantic. The ways I show affection. The parts that are me in relationships. But what about the things that are us?

I think it’s important, not just in polyamory but also in friendships, to keep some of those things special. To remind you that each relationship is its own and people aren’t interchangeable pieces in your life. They each have their own place.