Unsure of my ability to be poly (a life story)

Cbearicus

New member
This is a bit of a long read. I've been through a lot of self reflection as of late. I feel that, if anyone is to come to a full understanding of my situation in order to reflect on it or give advice, they need to know the whole story. So here goes:

Certain aspects of my sexuality are enigmatic to me at this point in my life. I feel like I have come up against a wall in my understanding of my self in regards to who I am as a sexual being. I am looking for a way through this barricade in order to live and be content in my own skin so that I am better and more content in the context of a relationship.

My current and first serious relationship is one of two years. My partner is interested in intimacy with others. He values it far more highly than I do. I understand his feelings and perspectives on an intellectual level, but on an emotional level I have yet to feel anything the way he describes it.

While in a relationship with him I have had intimate experiences with others in order to "test the waters" as it were, to determine if this was something I was even interested in, as I had never tried anything of the sort. I experienced little to no arousal in any of the encounters. After the fact I experienced anxiety. Anxiety over the fact that I could not let my guard down the entirety of the time I was with the person, even though I knew and connected with them in any context other than sexually. Sure, I knew what to do physically in the act of sex. But psychologically and emotionally I was guarded and perhaps even distant, thus leading to a general sense of discontentment with the situations after the fact.

I don't understand how he can experience intimacy with someone else in the way that he does. The only way I have experienced the sort of emotional arousal that I require in order to achieve pleasure from sex is in the context of a committed partnership. And I don't entirely understand why this is. It bothers me to the extent that I am jealous of him for being able to find pleasure in encounters other than our own. I get angry at him, and at myself, for what feels like a fundamental disconnect. A part of me simply does not want to connect with people other than my partner in that way. It doesn't feel safe on a base level. That is not the entirety of me, but it is a very loud, powerful part.

For some background, I was raised conservative Christian. It was a negative, fear-based environment with little encouragement for self discovery outside of religion and spirituality. Reality was painted in black and white, and the "other" was to be hated and feared if they did not conform. Of course, inconsistencies abounded, and being yelled at "Do you think God would want you to do that?" for doing some normal childish thing certainly does not help a child to grow up with a sense of confidence about their life. The imprint of my imposing, judgmental father is still powerful in my psyche at the age of 28 despite leaving religion around the age of 24.

Sex was of course a taboo subject, and thus my sexual development was wrought with ignorance, guilt, and fear. I first remember masturbating around the age of 5 or 6. I may have started earlier than that, but I remember that age vividly as one of my older brothers walked in on me while I was masturbating. I'm not sure he knew what I was doing, as I had learned how to do it with my clothes on, but the event is burned into my mind for the terror, panic, and shame it inspired in me.

When I discovered what sex was, and began to have an interest in it, the true guilt set in. My sex drive was, and still is, powerful. However, I was terrified to pursue anything, even self pleasure, for the wrath of God was a mighty force within my mind. Any time I masturbated I would feel like I was going to be damned to hell, but I could not stop myself due to the very strong desires within me. I would try to go as long as I could without doing it, miserable days turning to miserable weeks of laying on my hands at night or curling into a fetal position with my hands entwined in my hair to stop myself from doing anything that could count as sinful. Except even my mind would wander to fantasies. And any good Christian knows that even just thinking about something sinful is the same as doing it.

I was too terrified to have sex or even get in a relationship with someone because, aside from the issue of that in itself being sinful (and several other factors I will talk about in a moment), I could contract an STI, or worse, get pregnant. However, my desire to have sex was powerful. Every day, sometimes multiple times a day, it was as though my body just took control of itself and my poor, prudish psyche could do nothing to stop it. Because I was not sexually active with another, I had to turn to masturbation, despite the immense guilt I felt about it, as was the only thing that would temporarily relieve the need.

So, not only was I hating myself for masturbating, but masturbation became this lesser, ugly thing in comparison to sex. Sex, which was raised on a pedestal as the most glorious thing a person could experience (so long as it was in the confines of marriage) while simultaneously being sold as a dirty, sinful act that should not be discussed or seen.

In college I was part of a Christian fellowship that actively denounced masturbating in a very vivid fashion. We were told that, if we couldn't be trusted not to masturbate to pornography, then we should tell a friend and have them police our use of our technology. I wasn't sure what to do about myself, as my own fantasies had always interested me more than anything I could watch.

At this point in my life I had convinced myself I had a sex addiction, as I could not "control" myself not to masturbate. I wasn't about to tell anyone, however. And I tried to make do by telling myself it was ok if I masturbated to fantasies of married couples. Except that got old after a while and I found myself becoming increasingly interested in thinking about group sex. It's a terrible thing, hating one's thoughts and self for what it is, but I did. I hated that part of me and tried to purge it with prayer and self deprecation. I hated anything to do with sex and sexuality that was outside the realm of what I had been raised with--that is, outside the context of a monogamous marriage.

Essentially, my sexual development was supremely fucked up.
 
And not only was the development of myself as a sexual being wrought with debilitating dogma, so was the maturation and understanding of myself in my skin as a woman. My father is an unapologetic, conservative Christian man with very strong ideals of masculinity and femininity. To him, the former is strong, loud, overpowering, and always correct. The latter is weak, subtle, submissive, lesser, and petty.

Any "feminine" expression of my self when I was young was immediately ridiculed. If I expressed "masculine" traits, I was praised. I learned that crying was bad, it was a weak woman thing, and I should not do it in front of people. If I did let people see me cry, I was weak. I was encouraged to wear my brothers' hand-me-downs, play sports, get dirty, and have an interest in creepy crawly and slimy things.

I quickly picked up these behaviors and was also quick to ridicule "girly girls". Despite my ridicule of them, however, I also felt lesser and separate from them. As a tomboy I felt uncomfortable because I did not fit in with the girls, nor did the guys treat me as one of them.

Often my three older brothers would look down on me, simultaneously expressing to me that it was sinful to be a feminine woman (due to women being seductive to men) but that I shouldn't cross the line and be too masculine. I felt ugly and supremely uncomfortable in my skin most of the time.

These difficulties led to me being relatively closed off and uncomfortable around most people. I was afraid of judgment and ridicule for not fitting in, but could not come to fit in due to the judgment and ridicule I knew I would receive for doing that as well. I hid my discomfort easily, though, likely due to the nature of being an empath and good at knowing how I was supposed to behave based off social cues and observation. I recall a conversation where I was trying to tell my parents that I was shy. Being young, I did not have much of a way to explain the innate discomfort I felt with interacting with people. My parents immediately blew my concerns off, comparing my shyness to that of our very friendly family dog.

Because of this social anxiety from a very young age, I had a hard time connecting with people. I understood them well enough, could socialize as well as any butterfly despite how exhausted it would make me, but true and real connections for me were few and far between. I felt more connected to animals and nature than I did most human beings. I had plenty of friendly acquaintances in school, but was too guarded and fearful to pursue any sort of intimate relationship. The only way I could understand emotional or physical intimacy was in the context of marriage, as that was the only viable option presented to me and that I believed for so many years.

Something of an obsession developed within me to have closeness with someone. Because I could not seem to experience it with anyone else, a vivid fantasy world of connection and intimacy became my only recourse. I created loose preferences of who I would want to have this kind of relationship with and how I would want the relationship to feel. I was intensely lonely for what seemed like an eternity. Sometimes I would tell myself that I would just become a nun and that would fix my issue. God was all I needed. Until, of course, desire set in, or the lack of physical contact with other humans led to extreme discomfort that I could not pinpoint the source of until I actually began to experience touch as an adult.

When I was 24 I left religion and the culture I had been raised in. I recognize that the way my family handled things did not have entirely to do with their religious beliefs. It was all intertwined, and so in leaving the religion I shared with my family, so did I begin the long walk away from so many of the values imposed upon me.

What I didn't know was the scars it had left on me, which are multitudinous and even deeper than I have described here, and likely more than even I understand.

And that is why I am seeking to understand what is actually me. Do I have such a damaged view on relationships, intimacy, sex, desire, love, etc because of the damaging indoctrination I was subject to? Or is this inability to feel open with people in an intimate fashion outside of my romantic partnership a part of who I am? Am I a monogamous person? Or am I simply finding it difficult to overcome the morals I was raised with because they were so intrinsic to my being for so long? Will my life be any better if I seek intimacy outside my partnership?

I don't want to end an otherwise very good, supportive relationship because of something I will eventually overcome. Thankfully my partner is amazingly understanding of my journey and is willing to step back from seeking out intimate situations with others while I am having these difficulties. He recognizes that I am trying to work through them rather than trying to control him and his behaviors. Not once have I told him he can't do something, for I do not believe it is my place to police his actions. However, I don't know what to do about the emotional reactions I have to what he does. I even have difficulties with him masturbating.

I don't fully comprehend myself, and am in need of help to figure this out at this point in my life.



Edit: As an addendum, it may be helpful to know that I have an endocrine disorder that causes me to experience symptoms of OCD, anxiety, and depression. I have been working on alleviating the symptoms of the disorder, and have had much success. However, sometimes I will have bad days or a bad week that will make it exceedingly difficult for me to deal with matters outside my control due to my own amplified internal insecurities.
 
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Hi Cbearicus,

I believe I can relate to your situation in several ways. I, too, was raised in a strict religious environment, and had many guilt feelings about my sexual nature, including traumatic struggles against masturbation.

I think one of the key things to consider here is that religious indoctrination doesn't go away quickly, even after you quit that church. You will continue to have uncomfortable feelings about anything that opposes your past teachings. It's hard to say how long this will continue. Everyone's different, and the damage you received from your upbringing will have a unique effect on you.

Possibly the best thing I can do to help is to assure you that I count you as free to be yourself, whether that entails monogamy or polyamory. I realize you probably don't feel free, but I want to give you *my* go-ahead to *be* yourself.

Perhaps we can converse further, and get to the bottom of things.

Sincerely,
Kevin T.
 
There is an amazing amount to unpack in your life, and adding multiple relationships/poly into it all seems like a pretty big mountain to put into the terrain before you even get the journey of healing underway.

Why not take some time and talk to a sex-positive therapist to help you work through all of the issues left by your upbringing before complicating things further with considering a relationship model for yourself that you aren't even sure you want? Your partner can, if you both agree, explore his poly side, but that doesn't mean you need to have multiple relationships, at least not at the moment. If you are satisfied and happy with sex and intimacy inside the relationship you have, there's no reason to change that. It's not wrong, and poly isn't "more evolved," or "better," it's just a different way of having relationships. For now, focus on healing yourself, figuring out what that looks like and who you are, and go from there.
 
It's amazing how religion does tend to play a part in our development. While there are other factors, I too, was brought up in a strict religious household. Although, it came more from my Mom than my Dad, but so much of what you describe eerily similar.

I wouldn't be so quick to assume that it was your religious upbringing that caused you to feel unable to connect. To a degree, maybe a little, but I think it was probably the religious based reaction from your family, that aided in your feeling shameful about it. I left the church in my early 20's, but the truth is, I was never really a believer to begin with. I think, more than anything, there was a sense of feeling like I had to hide who I was just to make it through another day. So people like you & I become introverted because of these concern over being judged.

As for the relationships... I'm glad to hear that you have a partner that supports you and is willing to slow down a bit to figure this out. Whether you're mono or poly, honestly, I don't think matters. You have a lot to sort out first, so maybe explore yourself a bit before rushing to any sort of judgement. Just as Greenacres said, maybe consider seeing a sex positive therapist. Good luck & hang in there.
 
You just had a tremendous outpouring in your two posts, of grief and pain surrounding your abusive traumatic childhood and teen years.

Your issues may be beyond the scope of internet strangers to help with. We aren't here to help you become polyamorous....This is your choice. You could, of course, start a blog about your healing process in our blog section.

You mention an endocrine disorder that causes depression and anxiety. Are you also in therapy as part of your treatment? As others have said, therapy as you unpack this repressive past of yours is probably your first step.
 
As Magdlyn says, there's nothing wrong with NOT being nonmonogamous. It is not somehow "superior" to honest monogamy. It is the path that I chose/choose to walk because it's the best I've found for me, with chalenges & rewards that would otherwise be difficult or impossible. We're not selling anything here.

Don't talk yourself into undertaking challenges that offer rewards you don't particularly desire.

And as GreenAcres says, nonmonogamy in general (& polyamory in particular) can only multiply the complexity in your life, even when everything is running smoothly. Right now, it sounds like you need to eliminate a lot of complexity that you already have!!

Polyamory is NOT a "one-time opportunity" -- if in the future you should want to explore the possibilities, then by all means give it a proper whirl. :) But, right this moment, everything you relate tells me that you need a LOT more "breathing space" in your life.

Therapy is a great idea, & (IMO) having left behind both family & church, some sort of group therapy might greatly help you in filling that void. Doesn't have to be clinic-based: look around for self-help, 12-step, or support groups.

Meditation would be good, too, even if it's just five minutes a day to close your eyes, sit straight, & let your mind try to clear itself. Exercise, walking, gym, tai chi... any/all of these would help you greatly.

Endocrine malfunction can cause stress reactions... but it works the other way as well, so learning to minimize your stress, or at least not to get swept away by it, will itself likely reduce occurrences as well as severity.
 
This resonates a bit with me because a love of mine overcame a very strict religious lifestyle that held him back and stunted his love life... Zen is nearly 60, and while I don't like to go into TOO much detail, the man is seriously under-experienced for his age (yet an amazing lover nonetheless, largely because he is so focused on learning ME without the learned habits of what other women liked intruding on our activities.) Thing is, he believed that he had to find (and God would put her in his path) the Right Woman, who would be pure and virtuous, and he could marry her and give her babies and be bound to her for All Eternity. Not just this life. Forever. And yet surely such a pure creature would, he assumed, shun him for his secret perversions and dark sexual desires...

Well at some point in the last...I dunno...decade or less?...he woke up and realized all of this just wasn't working for him. He didn't just leave the church, he undertook a spiritual overhaul. He embraced Buddhism (of the sort more focused on the philosophy, not the dogma) and started doing some serious self-work to embrace his own sexuality. In a practical sense, he is still working on it, and I am helping him (happily!) but it's a process to push past some of his blocks.

He is mono with me, and I am poly, and he knows this and knows my other lovers. If he feels jealous or unhappy that I have them, he has not said so, and I feel that he's probably just happy to have me in his life.

Here's the thing...OP as others have said, you don't have to be poly. Accepting your partner's choices doesn't mean you have to do those things yourself. In particular, if you're not feeling the connection and the desire to have sex with someone, then DON'T. You have every right to not want to. A huge part of owning and embracing your own sexuality is realizing that you've got every right to not have sex with anyone, for any reason or no reason.

I've hooked up with friends in the past, and not felt good about it, and wished later that I hadn't. Not for any specific reason I could easily identify...I just felt like our energy was not a good match. I am also not a fan of the "you can/should hook up with others but no feelings outside of the main relationship are allowed" rule. In fact as rules go, I hate that. No partner of mine gets to police my emotions. I can barely police my own emotions. I think that someone like you, you've probably got a need to take time and form a good safe bond before you can be really vulnerable with somebody. And if you don't feel safe being vulnerable, you just can't enjoy the experience. That's not something you have to change. That is OK! Being self aware is not about trying to become what anyone says you should become, it's about realizing and acknowledging what makes you happy and comfortable, and endeavoring to honor and respect your own needs in relationships.

Being sex positive isn't necessarily about being able to hook up and enjoy sex with whomever. Find your own place of happiness. And let it evolve, don't try to force it too hard. And again...it's ok for your partner to be poly and for you to NOT be poly...so long as you can be comfortable in that setting.
 
I want to first repeat what others have already said. ..it's ok if you're not poly♡ however, having an open relationship and being poly aren't always hand in hand. Why did you feel the need to have sex right away? Maybe if you dated a person and connected with them, similarly to how you're connected to your husband, things would be different. But maybe not. Many people live happily in mono-poly relationships. .do you think you could? Also, I was raised in a terribly confusing "good Christian home" and I was a devout, unquestioning Christian for 26 years. That didn't just melt away when I became atheist. Trauma sticks. That's why people get back from war with PTSD. give yourself time. Forgive yourself. Love yourself. Grow. Toy can't do anything better♡
 
Wow. I was actually terrified to come back and read the responses to my post. Hence why it's taken me so long to respond. Baring part of myself to folks on the internet isn't usually a thing I do, but I'm really glad I did in this case. Thank you, everyone, for your support in this. And for your wisdom.

I do see a therapist (two, actually), though I think I need to find the right one to talk about sex issues with. They've been really helpful so far in getting me through a lot of the trauma I've experienced. I've talked with them about sex topics as well, but there is something just not meshing. I can't quite identify it, but I don't feel quite like I'm being understood or maybe I'm not understanding their feedback, perhaps it isn't exactly what I need. Whatever the case, I will keep trying with the two folks I have until I decide definitively that I need someone else. I've considered going to a someone more specialized, like a sex therapist. That may be my next step.

And really, it does make a lot of sense that adding more complexity into my life is not the way to go for me right now. I appreciate the advice on that. Somehow or another I hadn't looked at it that way. Dealing with day to day issues that come up can be difficult enough.

I do have a hard time thinking of him with other people right now, though. Perhaps due to my current need for a lot of stability in my relationships and low complexity. He's happy enough to stay monogamous at this point. We've had several conversations about it, as I will often tell him that I don't want to hold him back from how he wants to live his life. He tells me that he's doing exactly what he wants to do right now, and that he knows how much I'm going through and he's willing to stay with me while I journey on. I suppose he's right (as are all of you who have said it) that I need to find what's good for me and not be stressed by whatever that may be.

I've looked some more into my sexuality. I think I run along the lines of a demisexual, though not as close to the asexual side of demisexuality. I am interested in sex and actually have a pretty strong libido. However, I definitely am not sexually attracted to someone unless I have an emotional bond. And for me to develop emotional bonds, it takes quite a bit of time and experience with a person. Plus, an emotional bond doesn't mean I become sexually attracted. There have been very few instances in which I have been close enough to someone to begin with, much less sexually attracted to them. Before my current partner there was only one other where both emotional bond and sexual attraction was there, though the circumstances were not right for us to develop the relationship.

In recent times I think my forays into sexual activity with people had to do with exploration. I didn't really know what I was sexually (still working on that one), and had heard so many different things about having sexual experiences that I thought it was normal to be able to experience arousal with people, even if they were just friends. So not feeling that arousal, rather, feeling anxiety over the experiences afterwards, really confused and hurt me. But now, after reading through your posts, I realize that my understanding of that sort of thing was/is pretty limited. Likely due to my upbringing and just lack of exposure to intimacy for so long. And perhaps somewhat due to feeling pressured by myself to be able to experience what my partner experiences with other people, as I have a tendency to feel left out if I don't have experiences like other people do. There is a large part of me that is unhappy with my being and my own experiences. That's something I need to unpack more.

So yes, still a lot to go through. But damn, I'm so happy with all the support I've received here. You guys are great. :)
 
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I, too, grew up in a highly restrictive Christian household with all that entails. I also struggled with trust, especially with men, especially in sexual relationships. I've also dealt with anxieties, depression, and other issues. I did find that a sex therapist was helpful for my basic terror of all things sexy-time, but was somewhat less helpful for the relationship part. However, the combination of an anxiety-therapist and a sex-therapist worked quite well, especially since I was more than willing for the two to communicate with each other- and my partner at the time was happy to go with me. Which at first was terrifying but ended up being wonderful.

It took years, though. Sometimes it felt like no progress was made. Sometimes I'd backslide, or make big leaps forward. It's confusing and difficult. Even still I have some things I can't do or won't accept, but they are things that do not hem in my life in any appreciable way. The sex-stuff was honestly the easiest part. The head-stuff... that took longer, and I am still learning. I probably always will be, and I am okay with that. I am not the same person I was ten years ago, and I hope in another ten years I will not be as I am now, either.

And, I just wanna say... you're okay. You, yourself, are okay. It sounds like you have your partner in your corner, and it sounds like you have yourself in your corner, too, which is the far more important part. I know it sometimes feels overwhelming and scary, and sometimes like the path has disappeared, or like the whole world is tipping back on it's chair and the legs just slipped... but you are gonna be okay. You are strong enough, your very own self.
 
Hi Cbearicus,

I'm glad to hear we're something of a help to you so far. I'm sure you will need a lot of patience as you work through all the baggage you have to unpack. A sex therapist sounds like a good idea. Keep us posted, and we will continue to try to help.

Sincerely,
Kevin T.
 
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