We were eating thin-crust pizza with some sort of sweet potato-goat cheese hipster toppings, along with some insanely delicious roasted brussel sprouts. We only had an hour left together and we were filling it with a lifetime’s worth of tender truths. Suddenly the energy shifted.

“Don’t you dare fucking compromise for anyone who isn’t open and awake. Who won’t share and invest fully in the entire process of you understanding and meeting your needs, wherever and with whomever they lie.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Settle.”

He repeated those words again. And then again. As if he knew, somehow, that I might one day need the reminder.

The intensity took me aback for just a moment. I nodded. Yes. And then my whole body unfolded into its own yes like it had been waiting for that exact message.

Don’t. Fucking. Settle.

Over and over I have written words of autonomy and sovereignty of self and body and relationship. I’ve written about naming and owning desires. I’ve written about taking holy ownership of your own knowing and claiming it fiercely and without compromise.

And over and over I have started relationships with people for whom a compromise of self was the cost of entry into the relationship.

This is not on them, of course. Not the fault of those to whom I made commitments. This is only on me.

Once upon a time a dear friend, one with a fair bit of fame and a willingness to speak hard truths, called me a fucking hypocrite over this exact thing. He wasn’t wrong. At the time it felt like a slap in the face and also the exact thing I needed to hear. It’s still taken me a long time to get right with myself on this one.

In the beginning, when I met someone that I was interested in, I would tell them who I was. How I work. How I love and want. How it’s all open and free and infinite inside of me. How my body and my heart don’t do well in boxes or chains. How every time I try, everything suffers. My ability to love. My ability to make art. How the very center of me turns inward on itself.

I would tell them, every time, that in order to love you fully, I need to feel free.

But then, I fall. I crave. I lean in. I get afraid. I do not want to lose. Not again. Not this wonderful person. Not this growing love. And so I compromise. I tuck the part of me that knows fully the ways and hows and whys of my love on a shelf and I go about the business of falling in love and building a relationship.

Here’s the problem though. I always circle back to the same place. The same knowing. The same certainty and truth of self.

I’m here to love wide open.

Fidelity isn’t challenging for me. And god knows, I have paid the price of my own integrity in such a way and at such a cost that I would never go there again. It isn’t that. It’s not about multiple partners for the thrill of it or the rush of newness or the charge of an illicit and forbidden affair.

I’m simply not built for monogamy, not the way it’s packaged and sold as the be-all-and-end-all definition of commitment. And trying to fit myself into a box I didn’t build and never meant to live inside has nearly taken me out, again and again.

“Don’t. Fucking. Settle”

He said those words with such ferocity because he sees me. Mirrors and knows me. Understands the cost of denying the self. Knows for himself the full power of stepping into the light.

Today I opened my Facebook memories to see a quote of my own. Timing being what it is, my own words mirrored his from last night.

“Decline any love
that requires
a compromise of spirit.
The love that will
feed your soul
and fuel your fire
is one that offers
full agency over your heart,
your body,
your creativity,
and your life.

Remember,
your love is a gift,
a truth,
a holy, sacred thing.”

I’ve told you before that I always write what I most need to know. And sometimes still, it takes me years beyond the writing to integrate the lesson.

But here I am. I’ve never been steadier in myself, in the naming of my needs, in the ways I am seeking to meet myself in the center of my desires. I’ve never cared less about your approval. 

I’ve never wanted more to sink into deeply honest conversation with every last person who comes across my path. Never been more prepared to understand, name, and seek a life on my own terms.

I’ve got all the fucks to give and not a single one to spare on anyone who wants me to be any less than all of myself.

“All a closet is is a hard conversation” Ash Beckham

I shared that line with him last night, long after we’d set aside the food to lean deeper into the conversation. There are a million different ways to come out. We all have to do it eventually, one way or another.

No matter how much practice I get, each new truth I tell is entirely singular. Just like each connection, each love, each holy encounter of body and heart and soul.

And so, if there is a closet here, then this post is another coming out in an endless string of closets and coming outs that are the inevitable part of a life lived honestly and out loud.

I’m in a process of exploration and unfolding, discovering who I am and who I want to be in relationship. Leaning into the nuance and contrast between non-monogamy and poly-fidelity and solo-polyamory. Asking hard questions about what I want. Unwinding the binding of trauma and triggers. Allowing my connections to offer their own name and timeline and purpose.

I am calling in the deepest sort of nourishment and pleasure and medicine, even when that falls way outside the boundaries of what the world expects. Refusing for a single second longer to compromise what I know of who I am and how I love.

In order to love you fully, I need to feel free.

The time for settling is over. I’m ready to see what’s possible from here.

“Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say I understand who you want me to be, but I’m going to show you who I actually am.”

― Anthony Anaxagorou

The post Coming Out Of The Non-Monogamous Closet appeared first on Jeanette LeBlanc.

do not
look away
right now you are
mine

right now
i am
lifting hair
from neck
running my finger
gently there.  across
the line of
clavicle.
down curve of rib
following
concave of waist
coming to rest on
the hard of hip.

revel, now
in the shiver that
rises
along your spine

it means you are awake.

stay awake , lover
because this is
a treatise of touch

{image via unsplash}

this is
a dedication to
the divinity
of want
this is an ode
to the fierce hunger of
your
animal skin
so bless your righteous body
bless it’s ancient hunger
bless it’s sacred need
bless the magnet pull
the utter madness
of want
and the selfish haunting
of desire

right here
on electric hipbone
right here
on staircase spine
here on nape of neck
on hollow of throat
on line and curve
on slick and sweat
here in the space where
body meets body
where want answers want
where primal, exalted lust
delivers
you
to your
knees

we all
pray best
on our knees

so let us pray

sanctify the body holy
the wicked desire
the backroom covenants of flesh
the slow slide of acquiesce
the hallowed space of want
the heavy shudder of yes
the burn of craving
the bliss of the fire.

find now
the center of your
longing
meet it where it lives
coax the tender tremor
tease response from
edge to depth to surface
to bone
to salt
to sweat
to skin
to teeth
to yes
to this

this is the
consecrated profanity of
seduction
this is the space where
shame is shed
you are a vessel of want

you are a master of desire
you are the fierce of supplication
the gentle of domination
you are holy
you are holy

you are holy

ask for what you need, lover
take what you want
bring it home
refuse the disgrace
with which you were raised
claim your untamable
unbind your wild
petition the air for your
every desire

Image © chanelle sinclair

this body is not the enemy
your sex is not a scandal
your skin needs no censor
you are not here for denial
your pleasure is
what the universe
demands
it is the purpose
of your
creation
anything else
is
blasphemy

so tattoo want along your rib
name it religion and church
and the rite of communion
take the body and the blood
sprinkle it with holy water
let the salt steam rise

and listen
just listen, lover
always
our bodies tell us
where
to
begin.

Listen:
The poem:

The soundtrack:

Treatise of touch: the official playlist for shedding shame and owning desire}

30 questions to bring you closer to your wild heart.
Join me for a month of prompts and write your way back home.
30 days | 30 questions |30 dollars — begins Feb. 14th 2016

The post a treatise of touch appeared first on Jeanette LeBlanc.