I am used to having to explain myself, especially to parents and all those other people I used to be able to call “grown ups”. I left my family church at sixteen to pursue a pagan path and was always the odd one out in political conversations and dinner table discussions. I spent a great deal of time and energy in my youth, trying to convince my parents to give up on the dream of my picture-perfect wedding and their grandkids-to-be. I was not prepared ten years later when my best friend and poly partner in life sat down with me to discuss the nature of our “open relationship” Facebook status with his parents.
It was probably the most difficult adult conversation I’ve ever had, answering well-intended questions about every aspect of our relationships, from emotional attachments and complications to our child-rearing intentions – the implication being, of course, that non-monogamy is a recipe for promiscuity and irresponsible reproductive choices.
I went in to this coming-out experience with a lot of anxiety and fear along with a bit of a defensive attitude. I wasn’t sure what to expect and things got emotional at the suggestion that we were somehow obtaining the blessings and graces of those invited to our Big Event fraudulently.
Our wedding was no cookie-cutter affair and we both invested our hearts and souls in making it come together. I was confident, during that conversation, that if we could only convince our friends and family to attend, they would completely understand the relationship we are trying to build and the purpose behind the ceremony…. but you try telling your parents they’ll have to lead you down the aisle blindfolded, or that our officiants happened to be our best pagan friends, with only the power vested in them by us, as their spiritual peers, to facilitate such an event.
I wrote the ceremony word for word (literally, with a hand-made feather quill and home-mixed ink) and it was a true reflection of our spiritual beliefs. It was a lengthy ceremony, but can be summed up adequately by one simple passage edited from Ryan Hunter and the Internet Book of Shadows and spoken by our ritual priest and priestess.
"The constant circle of love you share is symbolized in these rings. Let them be a token of your friendship and the partnership you have come to celebrate on this day. When the waters are rough, let these rings remind you of the ebb and flow of life. May you always remember the happiness you feel at this moment, and let your memory soothe and encourage your spirit as you venture out into the world to spread your love across the web of the universe.
Above you are the stars. Below you are the stones. As time does pass, remember, like a star should your love be constant, like a stone should your love be firm. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you, let the spark of your wills inspire you, let the ecstasy of love and desire flow from your hearts, and the strength of your dedication bind you together. Be close, but do not smother. Posses one another, yet be honest and understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving of affection and warmth. Make love often and be sensuous, sharing your gift of love. Have no fear, and let not the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease, for the Goddess and the God are with you, now and always. So mote it be."
Is our marriage real because we don’t limit our sex lives by monogamy? The truth is, that all really depends on how you define a marriage. According to the laws in my home province (and most others around the world), no… but we choose to fly in the face of convention and redefine love. Our boundaries are not steadfast. We have the strength of character to realize that our needs change with time and that it is our individual freedom to chose the ways that these needs can be met, and the ways we can meet the needs of others. This is not always easy, and our relationship does have its struggles, but I certainly cannot say that we are troubled any more than our monogamous friends and family.
The sit-down didn’t end in smiles and hugs – when we parted, we all left with more questions than answers – but the experience opened up brand new doors of discussion with my then-fiance, and allowed us to speak openly about some of our own previously undiscovered fears and anxieties. We value honesty and integrity above all else and every difficult conversation we struggle through prepares us for the next inevitable discourse. Don’t avoid these opportunities to see the world through new eyes by getting defensive about your lovestyle with those who want to understand – you never know what new idea you might stumble upon or what buried feelings might be unearthed in the experience. Be strong, be compassionate, and never stop telling your truth.
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