Beyond a Break-Up

Over the last week or so, the Boy and I have been in regular communication. In fact, we’ve seen each other, in person, two times in the last forty-eight hours. Both times have been deeply reaffirming for both of us, and have led us to understand that there is, in fact, a bond between us that exists, possibly outside of normal labels and nomenclature.

For now, we are exploring things without the weight of title or expectation. We are embracing the moments we share together without distraction and in full-view honesty with each other. It’s been utterly refreshing to show him the side of me that he once fell in love with. The joyful, unpressurized, full-on person that I can be, with my goofy personality and a bit askew takes on how I view the world around me, all gets to take a seat in the space he and I share, and I think it’s been really good for him to both get to know me that way, again, and for me to let go of the expectations I thought he had for me.

Things aren’t moving in any sort of way with him and I. They just…are. This energy? It’s just existing. Simply. In the present-tense.

And it’s feeling so joyous and closer to perfection that I ever thought possible.

The concept of a Break Up is just as important to explore as Falling In Love, to be honest. What does it mean to “break up” with someone? How does one reconcile the space between one and another who, in a literal previous moment, held a different place in our hearts? Does it undo all that came before, like an existential erase-and-rewind, or is it possible to integrate those memories into a better future? What choices need to be made, in that one moment, to ensure that both people are left feeling both informed and supported, even through what feels like the darkest of dark moments?

We’ve chosen to explore a world beyond those boundaries and demarcations. We’ve decided to let go of all those frameworks, foisted upon us by outside forces, and just let whatever shape this energy between us decides to form simply exist as it wants to, without restraint or guidance or containment. If it changes through time – which all relationships do, all the time – then so be it. I know he’s seeking something different than what I can provide, perhaps, but then I might also change my focus as well. We are two bodies in close-orbit with each other, but each with their own surface temperatures, textures, and storms. We can co-exist as separate entities and entities that share a bond. Recognizing this as a reality, not only in my relationship with the Boy, but with regards to all of the relationships in my whole life, is a fucking SPIN on the HEAD of everything I’ve ever been taught about Love in all of its various forms.

The fact is, my whole body does react to him. Hell, even typing all of this out is sending a relaxing vibe through my body, blood to all of my extremities, and a warm fuzzy feeling in my mind. I can’t deny that part of our connection, nor do I want to. Last night, over a delightful dinner and time spent being personal with each other, we both remained vulnerable and in the moment in a way that was such a positive experience. It’s hard to put it into words. You just had to be there, I guess.

This is how I love.

This is my path.

And the more I spend time on this rocky trail, I realize that it’s the closest I’ve ever been to being my authentic, true self. It’s wild that it’s taken me till 45 years of age to get here, but sometimes time just doesn’t matter. Not in the formation of the human psyche or mind space. I am my own vessel on my own journey, and I don’t need to live in shame for how I interface with the world around me. It works for me, and that’s all that matters. Open-hearted, willing to explore those threads of connectivity, and let the energy flow where it wants…more please. Much more of this, in fact.

NSA

No strings attached.

I woke up yesterday, still processing the way the Boy left my life, trying to piece together the timeline that my anxiety rage tried to obscure from my mind. I think I landed on something that hit deep, and struck a chord within me I haven’t plucked in a very long time.

He’d mentioned that he spent time googling and exploring the meaning of “polyamory” in his journey to understanding me, how my heart works, and whether or not it was something he could accept. Along the way, he realized that wasn’t how his heart worked, and that it would be a constant struggle with me, should we remain together. I sat with that revelation from him for a bit. It got me to thinking about definitions, about the words we use in our language to express states of being or thought, and what we’ve collectively agreed upon as working for us, broadly speaking, so we can communicate with one another without having to pause and explain nuance or differentiation.

Words like “husband” or “boyfriend” or “married” or even “love” itself, all carry a socially accepted definition. Hell, one could argue that the whole of Merriam-Webster is founded on this idea of collective definitions. But what happens when those definitions don’t fully apply? What if my understanding of the word “husband” isn’t exactly the same as yours? What kind of assumptions are you making about me, as a husband, when you hear me called that? How is your language and classification of me, using labels like husband-lover-boyfriend-Dad-etc, changing your perception of me?

For the Boy, I think he got caught up in all of that. I think, and I’m not certain so I’ll never be fully sure, that he started to see me through the filters that those words, those descriptors, layered over me. Instead of seeing me as a solid, single entity named Thom, he saw me through the funhouse of mirrors that those words became.

He never asked me to explain myself, or when I did try to add nuance or gradients or turn those words into a spectrum of meaning for him, he didn’t or couldn’t get there with me. I think the difference between what he understood those words to mean, and how they applied to me, was too much of a gap for him.

Again, I don’t know, and might never know for sure, but it’s a theory that seems to fit well with regards to the situation.

I don’t want those terms applied to me. At all. I want to be known as just me, for my name, for as long as possible.

I don’t want to be classified, boxed, organized, shelved, categorized, or labeled, and have those things be the only thing I am for any one person. It makes my skin itch to think about how constrained those words make my entire being become in the minds of others. I’m more than any one of them, an amalgamation of all of them, and also exist beyond what any google page or dictionary might have to add to the understanding of each of those words.


Going forward, I’m going to be cutting more of these strings.

I don’t want the weight of them on my body and personhood. I want to engage with people who are willing to question the words and terms they use to describe someone else, especially as they get to know that person more intimately, and understand that just because they have their own understanding of what those concepts, those categories, all kind of mean, they might not know the full spectrum of definition. I want them to be as curious about redefining these words, these weighted, heavy, long-standing words, full of both promise and problems, and take ownership of the words they use.

This year, this summer, this new season of Spring and at the midpoint of my life, I’m going to be far more selective about who I let in close to me. I have that right, and I owe it to myself to surround myself with quality people who enhance my life. I’m also going to start valuing myself, my own personhood, a bit higher. I’m considering the ways I can express myself and be closer to who I am, and how that can add to my life.

Stay Tuned. Daddy is going to explore this darkness a bit more, and see what he comes up with. 💚

Yuletide Morning

Our little tree, a living being in a bright red pot I bought at the grocery store for under $20, stands wrapped in bright lights on top of the second-hand bookshelf by the front door.

Upstairs, the dog and my boys are snoring, slumbering into the morning.

Soon, there will be the pitter-patter of dog-paws, as it’s near time for his morning piss and breakfast. As per usual. Like clockwork. He’s as regular as breathing and a heartbeat. His consistency has become something I lean on for my own regularity. I didn’t know I was adopting a life coach and therapist when I scooped up the pup from the shelter, a fortieth birthday gift to myself, over five years ago.

This morning, my thoughts are all over the map. I keep wondering when my life will return to the simplicity of my childhood, except now, and especially after 2022’s revelations and therapy sessions, I’m realizing that childhood was fraught and those moments of simple living are but pages and sections, and not the full story. I wonder what simplicity I am actually chasing?

What would my life be without credit card debt, student loans, that check engine light, the empty spaces in the cupboards? What would my world feel like without the multitude of plates that I’m responsible for? Is that the escape I keep dreaming about? That world where time is measured in coffee cups and cloud patterns?

This will be my 45th Yule. This will be my 45th dip into the darkest part of the year, and my 45th attempt at setting reasonable, measurable, achievable goals for myself and the year to follow. As though I can set intention for the unknown future. As though I have any semblance of control over what the Universe will throw my way over the next twelve months. I suppose, if anything, I’ve learned to be reasonable about what I set for myself.

Perhaps this time, I’ll set my sights a little lower. Instead of massive changes in my current situation, be it with my overall health, or finances, or living arrangements, I’ll keep things on a longer time-scale. I have twenty years until the government has determined I’m not as viable as a worker as I’ve been so far. In the time I have left, I need to take and make concrete steps towards the kind of freedom I want my last years on this planet to be full of. I want a retirement full of trees and paths and magic and calm. To get there, I need to set small goals, incremental in nature, and stick to them daily.

In the meantime, I probably ought to really separate out the things that I can control and alter, and the things that really live outside of my scope of influence. I don’t know who is going to come or go, into or out of, my life. I don’t know what state or shape the community I live in will be in, come this time next year. I don’t know, and I have no control over, who’ll be in charge or what they’ll decree as law or process. I don’t know and cannot control the pressures that will be placed upon my mind and body.

I can control my reactions to these changes, though. If I continue to shrink my lens a bit, narrow my focus down, maybe I’ll feel less overwhelmed by this time next year.

Maybe this time next year, by the light of the tiny tree, I’ll feel like I’m a bit closer to the simple bliss of my post-adulthood life, and a bit closer to that boy I left on that rocky outcropping back in Maine on that warm summer day, staring to the west and dreaming of a better life.

Social Realignment

Over on the Bird App, which I’ve become so damn fond of, things are fracturing even more. The Thing In Charge is revealing themselves to be an utter monster, and while I’m there, it feels icky, like I’m sticking my head in the sand and just doing my thing, all while knowing exactly what it is I’m feeding into.

Meanwhile, over here, in the land of Jockstraps and Evergreens, I feel like I can express myself far more authentically. I feel like, at least here, I can share and be heard in a way that suits me, doesn’t have to feed into the machinations of a megalomaniac, and could become some sort of online rest stop for my thoughts, ideas, projects, and expressions.

I know, this site started off as some sort of dark and sassy vaguely porn-ish thought process. And, yes, it’ll probably be that too, but expect more from me in terms of sharing thoughts, talking about the things that matter to me, with visuals that are hopefully tasteful yet evocative. That’s my goal, anyway.

I can’t manage the split-off of all of the people and voices that I once had gathered together over there on the Bird App. It’s not up to me to go chasing them down, to follow along, to reach out and find every last one of them. That took multiple years to craft and build so that my experience there was mostly uplifting and positive for me. I don’t have the patience for that, or, if I’m fully honest, the need for that much interaction anymore.

My life is *full* these days. David’s arrival in October really did fill the gap that was in my heart, that I was using social media to fill. I’ve said it time and again, but I’ve stopped Seeking for while, and for as long as he’s in my life. I’m not looking for that certain kind of someone, who’s both calm and sweet and loving, but also energetic and challenges me and my ways of thinking. I’m not on the hunt for someone who’s a fantastic romp in bed, but also isn’t looking to be that romp for lots of other people (I know, that’s a conundrum regarding my polyamory best left for a separate post). I’m not reaching into the Void to find other energies to bring into my life, only to be discarded or ignored or skipped over because I don’t fit a certain spot or ideal that they’re seeking. No, now that The Boy is here, and we’ve started to Build Our Thing, I don’t need to constantly Seek, Hunt, Search, Find, and Reach for the entity and energy that he now brings into my life. I have that.

For that, I am deeply, deeply grateful.

So? Perhaps it’s a social media Hermitage that’s in process. Perhaps it’s a break from the constant engagement and comments and thread-reading. Perhaps, for now, it’s time to look more locally for engagement and interaction that includes time spent with those who are in arm’s reach. The fact is, I have community here, and I need and want to be more of a part of it. I have this whole nutrition and fitness coaching side of me that’s just waiting for my attention and efforts. I need to scope out how networking is done here, among the 🌈Fam of Portland, and engage with that more.

I’ve got more to do than scroll infinitely.

One Month

David arrived on October 5th, with the intent of attending a job interview with a shipping company here in Portland. His intent: get to Portland, back to the PNW, and to be closer to me.

The job? Well, the company had misrepresented themselves in the ad, and David passed on that interview. But, he still arrived, eager to make a go of a new life, and a new love, in a new place, ready to engage with a new chapter for himself, and for us.

One month on, and I can honestly say that Dad could not be more contented. Daily, he and I connect, giggle, kiss, and are genuinely affectionate with each other. Daily, we talk about our mental health status, the challenges we are facing, and realizing slowly that we’ve got each other to lean on now, and for as long as we want to do so.

In this last month, I’ve learned that I have so much more healing and personal growth to undertake. Because of David’s persistent affection and presence, with so many huge hugs, deep kisses, belly rubs, and all the rest, I am learning that I still don’t love myself, my body, and my mind nearly enough. I don’t appreciate all that I am capable of, nor do I count myself as worthy of many of the amazing and wonderful aspects of my life. I have to be kinder, gentler, more loving, to myself, if I really ever expect myself to be able to love as big as my heart requires.

Taking care of the Boy while he gets his feet under him has been such an undertaking, and has left me feeling like there’s so much more I could and should be doing. I want to do more of this, too. I want to be more of a caregiver, a nurturer, a source of peace, love, and comfort for more of my community. In order to be that guy, though, I have to get my own affairs in order. I have to be better with my resources, and how I use them, and how I meter them out. I have to be smarter, wiser, and kinder.

I still have so much more growth to undertake, even now, after the midpoint of my physical life has arrived. It’s amazing, really.

Chosen Ones

For a number of years now, I’ve been actively disengaged from my biological family. They’re back east, in Maine, distant and apart from me and my life way over here in Oregon.

By choice.

By necessity.

In the last year, since starting therapy, I’ve been wrestling with the fact that my childhood, no matter how idyllic I’ve painted life on that 65-acre New England farm with rolling hills, fields, a river, and two trembling brooks, it was also full of deep, dark trauma.

I still need to plumb the depths of all of that, and come to more solid terms with it, as I heal and grow into the next half of my life. It’s because of that need in my own life, that I’ve actively and thoughtfully created my own Chosen Family here, in my actual life, where my own rubber meets the road. It’s why I keep those who share my DNA at a long-ass distance. We might share blood and bone, but we share nothing else.

I’m okay with that, after years and YEARS of feeling guilt and pressure to not be okay with being away.

This is the start of the holiday season, with it’s manufactured “come home” vibes, with all of the pressure to supply food and gifts to your family members, with the silly Hallmark holiday movies, nostalgia wrapped up in tinsel and Victorian decor, and all the rest. If this time of year brings you joy, and you have a solid, loving connection to those who raised you and brought you into this life, by all means, go hog wild, enjoy your thing, and share it wide and far. Even this old Hermit loves a bit of sparkle and joy in the deep darkness of winter.

But if you are like me, and you struggle with all of that, and hate the feelings that this time of year can generate inside you, I want to let you know that I’m here. Your Internet Dad is here, arms open wide, and willing to listen and comfort as you parse out how your feeling and how the winter holidays affect you.

The Chosen

I definitely challenge you to find your Chosen Family – those you keep close, that you lean on, that you think of on bright sunny lovely days, and want close on the darker, deeper, more challenging days. Even if you are close to your bio-family, it’s vital that you have some support outside of that framework. Perhaps, make it a resolution for yourself going forward. As an Old Man, I’m telling you, it matters. Deeply.

Second Life

It’s really hitting that I need some massive changes in my life. My job in public transit is steady and even, in terms of pay and such, but man, it’s taking the life right out of my body at pretty steady flow. It has been for a number of years now, and I’m fed up with it.

Over the last six months or so, I’ve taken up with something that was suggested to me by my old fitness coach, and gone and got myself certified as a personal trainer and nutrition coach.

Turns out, I fucking love it.

I’ve got a couple of paying clients, with more on the way (if we are a match), and I find myself really enjoying the interactions with people who want to make changes in their lives with regards to food and fitness.

Who the hell knew this Certified Fat Kid from Maine would ever find himself *happy at a gym,* let alone THRILLED to be helping others find happiness at the gym, or even in the kitchen?

Certainly not me.

What this has caused in my life, though, has been a cascade of changes that I’m ready to make, even at this later stage of things.

I applied for a job with the US Forest Service yesterday, as a person who would work in a visitor’s center helping people with information and pass purchases as they entered our nation’s national forests. The pay isn’t much, but it is government work, and it’s in a field that I’ve always loved and wanted to be part of – outdoor recreation and conservation – and would more than likely bring me joy.

I plan on seeking out other opportunities and applying for them as well, in any number of areas of work. I have literally nothing to lose by sticking my hat in a variety of rings, and probably a lot more to gain by seeing where it all takes me.

Yes, even at 45, I feel like I have so much more I could be doing with my time that would be more beneficial to the world, and to myself, in terms of mental health and supporting Joy and Goodness in my life. Why I feel like I’m tied to a job that is literally running me into the ground is beyond me, and I refuse to believe that this is all I’m capable of. I know, for a fact, that I could be doing so much more with my time.

I guess the phrase “Stay Tuned” is applicable here. Dad’s not done finding his way, it seems.

Midway

It’s so bizarre to me.

I turn Forty-Five in a couple of months.

I have wondered what that would mean for me for a very long time. It’s not like I expected to live forever, but the idea that half of my life has passed, and half of my life is ahead of me, feels pretty damned significant.

And I’m certain I’ll be doing more reflecting and thought-processing, so hang tight.

Here’s what I know so far:

I have so much more to do in this life. I get caught up in the daily struggles, the week-to-week, the relevance, the validity, and all the rest, that time seems to slip through my fingers at a break-neck speed these days. I need to slow down, pause, and find a way to be present with myself and my existence far more often.

Capitalism will kill us all, and by the time we realize it’s coming for us, it’s already too late. Do the thing, do it as soon as you can, on whatever budget you can muster, and find that Joy because you only really get one shot.

Health and vitality are accessible to anyone at any age, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a damned liar.

Get the dog. Adopt the cat. Pet the horse. Animals and familiars are a huge boost to everything and all things, and worth every second of time that you get to share with them.

Don’t waste time on petty bullshit. If Dad has *any* advice to anyone at all anywhere, it’s this. Stop the drama where it starts, clear the decks, make better choices, and all the rest. You are literally wasting time with it otherwise.

Look for the Beauty. It’s right there, in front of you. Sense it with all of your being.

Fall in love as many times as possible, with as many people as possible. Be that guy or gal. Embrace your affectionate side. The world could use a LOT more lovers like us.

Locked Down, Again

I started to feel off on Saturday. Scratchy throat, headache, and a dry cough that no amount of cough drops could soothe. I wasn’t stuffed up, and my allergy meds and nasal spray weren’t really doing any heavy lifting, so I figured I’d rule out something I’d thought I’d been vaccinated and immunized against for a while now – COVID-19.

Turns out, that’s exactly what I’ve managed to contract. Again. For the third time.

Sunday, my positive test result took the wind out of my sails. I called off work, let them know that I was poz, and sat in kind of a blank-stare stupor for most of the day. How was this possible? I mean, I know how it’s possible. This virus is very, VERY happy to mutate, and since my last infection, and last dose of vaccine, I’ve lost count of how many variants have been discovered and labeled and started their march across humanity. I don’t know which strain I have now, and it doesn’t matter, but the symptoms are vaguely familiar, though not as sharp/steep as the previous rounds I’ve had with this coronavirus.

This is a forced time out. This is the universe telling me “chill, bro” and catch your breath (as best as you can, the virus has my chest all kinds of tight). So, that’s what I’ve been doing. No, that’s actually not quite true.

I’m not a “chill, bro” kind of person.

In fact, what I have been doing is working on the things I have been kicking down the road for a while now out of a lack of time and focus strength. I’ve started to put into place the pieces I need to launch my coaching career, and so far, with only a few minor hiccups, things seem to be rolling on.

I have a site up – kind of quick-and-dirty and subject to refinement – that both markets my coaching skills and links to software that I will be using to engage with my clients. Right now, I have three beta-testers who are getting twelve weeks of nutrition coaching for free in exchange for their feedback on elements and the process along the way. I will be coaching them for sure, but part of our check-ins will also be to get feedback on the process, software, information, and how well my coaching aligns with the curriculum they’ve got for themselves.

I’ve gotten some intake surveys from the people who’ve started, and immediately, I am finding myself focusing in on both the areas I’m spotting that have the most need for my help, and setting expectations for myself, and for my clients, about what areas I want to really hone in on for them.

I’m really, really excited for this! It is tapping all the way into my Healer/Teacher/Guide self, and I feel like I can make a MASSIVE impact on the people who engage with me, if I trust my instincts and listen with my heart and mind aligned.

I feel really, really in alignment. For the first time in a long time.

This journey is just getting started, and I’m excited for it. I can already sense some massive doors just starting to peek open for me, and it’ll be up to me to both check what’s behind them, remain vigilant for opportunities that align with who and what I am, and to remain in this state of utter gratitude for this opportunity to change how I engage with the world around me.