Some reflections on grief and loss 💔
When my last relationship ended, I felt like I lost a piece of myself. In some ways, I did: I lost a romantic partner, one of my best friends and the relationship. Healing isn’t linear and it’s challenging to move forward without acknowledging what was lost, and what is now. It’s even harder due to the stigma of non-monogamy, and people dismissing my pain because I have supportive partners to help.
Community has been my anchor through this chaos. Friends who bring little treats, loved ones who listen without judgment, and chosen (and blood) family who send late-night texts to check in. These minor acts of communal care stitch the holes in my heart (this is what Leah Lahkshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha refers to as ‘crip mutual aid’ being the best form of mutual aid.) And then there’s time. The slow, indifferent healer who doesn’t care how much you plead for a fast-forward button.
My grief feels small.
We’ve been living through collective trauma for years. The first COVID-19 lockdowns were a wake-up call-- a grim reminder of our mortality and the fragility of our societal structures. We cannot forget Gaza, a place trapped in a cycle of violence, where innocent lives are lost. The US political climate, a source of anxiety, is woven within. I’m so disheartened because every election feeling like a do-or-die situation has burned me out.
We’re exhausted. We’re walking around with grief that isn’t just personal but planetary. How do we cope? How can we care for ourselves and one another amidst the world’s chaos?
...With each other, hopefully.
It's a Privilege to be Polyamorous, AND... 🌈
I choose to be polyamorous because it feels necessary to represent a decolonized way of living and loving. Our ancestors practised communal care! Decolonising our relationships is an act of reclaiming that history. Polyamory isn’t just a quirky lifestyle choice; it’s a way to challenge the Western construct of the nuclear family, which often isolates us in our struggles and joys. But let’s be real—coming out is also a privilege. I am aware of the safety it affords me and the risks it brings. Sometimes, the privilege of being out is shattered by harsh reality.
During Non-Monogamy Visibility Week, I crafted a heartfelt Instagram post to honour my partners. Without realising, I cross-posted it to Facebook where family and friends who didn’t know about this part of my identity could see it. The fallout was immediate and brutal. Some couldn’t handle it. They distanced themselves, lashed out, and, sometimes, cut ties altogether. A painful reminder of the stigma of being out.
I’m still resolving these feelings. It’s a tiresome journey marked by moments of guilt, shame, and self-doubt. I’m grateful for the power of communal care and collective resilience. My partners and loved ones have supported me through this.
So yes, being openly polyamorous is a privilege. But it’s an act of resistance, a way to say that our relationships, ways of loving, and communities matter.
Midwest Love Fest 2024 🎉
Hey lovely humans! 🌈
Mark your calendars for August 17, 2024 because Indianapolis is about to host an event that will make your heart sing and your mind expand—Midwest Love Fest. This gathering is curated for those of us who are non-monogamous or other alternative relationship structures. I’ll be there, leading a workshop titled ‘Cosmos of Care.’
I’m stoked to be part of this first-time event, an offshoot of the beloved Southwest Love Fest. As a workshop facilitator, I’m eager to share insights, swap stories, and create a nurturing space for mutual learning.
Why attend? It’s a chance to immerse yourself in a community celebrating diverse forms of love. It’s a Saturday filled with workshops and opportunities for connection. This event is more than just a gathering; it’s a movement towards destigmatization and communal care. Come for the learning, stay for the community, and leave with a heart full of love and new perspectives. Join me!
So, I’ve been reflecting on how stories weave a tapestry of resilience and emotion. It’s powerful when we share ours. I want to open up this space for you. 🌟
I’d love to highlight one of your stories or questions in each edition. Your voice and experiences matter. Sharing them can help others. 🫂
Drop your stories, questions, or even a rant in the comments. If you got this in your inbox, respond with something! I’d love to hear what you have to say Let’s keep this conversation going and build this community together. Can’t wait to hear from you all.
x,
Christa
*And then there’s time. The slow, indifferent healer who doesn’t care how much you plead for a fast-forward button.*
Beautifully put.
That thing of suddenly having to deal with being out to everybody, without warning or preparation, is brutal. I’ve been outed in the paper twice, once when a candid photo of me at a pride parade got printed in the local paper (I was 16, and actually wrote about this in my most recent newsletter!), and once when a vengeful ex who also happened to write an art column for the local alt weekly decided to write a feature featuring (so to speak) my kinks. It’s not easy stuff. I hope you’re taking lots of time and space for self care, and I’m glad to hear you have a network of supportive relationships. And I hope the dust settles soon. Love and solidarity ❤️