I don’t talk to often about ethical non-monogamy, primarily because I think there are already so many people having those discussions with much more important perspectives, including the infinite Michón Neal, and deeply gifted Milton Goosby who is always working hard to be a better human, and shares that process with his readers.
But today I want to talk about something tangentially related to polya, and that is how I experience love. I recently wrote an article about the ways I don’t experience love as an aromantic, nebularomantic autistic person, but that conversation isn’t entirely complete until I talk about the ways I do experience love.
Because I have difficulty labeling and differentiating between types of love, non-hierarchical polya or relationship socio-anarchy, which to me is concerned with the overall well-being of the group or network with all parts being equally beloved, important, and relevant, is the relationship structure I thrive most in.
There have been four children born of my body, several of my partners of any definition or title have children as well who will always be family to me, a nebulous network of beloved little buddies. The duty I hold to protect and support the small people in my life, is worth mentioning, and worth mentioning first. Kids aren’t just baggage and burdens. don’t be that person.
ok, So let’s talk about love!
Just to remind everyone as we get into this I’m autistic but I’m not all autistic people. I’m aromantic but I’m not all aromantic people, I’m nebularomantic but I am not every nebularomantic person. Got it? great, let’s go.
The way that I love people feels expansive like a galaxy, there are points of burning stars, clouds, an infinity of life and light but it has no rigidity, no defined end or beginning.
As a small child my mother would try to trick me into going to sleep by telling me to visualize the entire universe and then coming to the end of it. I was supposed to basically self meditate on stars I guess, it was the 70’s after all, but what ended up happening is I would become increasingly concerned about the fact that I could not visualize any defined ending to the universe, what was there a giant wall? a fence? what was on the others side of the wall then? what could possibly be there but more universe?
That is my fundamental relationship to love these days, the way I always have loved and never had words for. There are no defined lines that I can discern. What could possibly be on the other side of my love for a person but more love?
When people ask me how many parners I have I don’t even know what to say. Some relationships obviously count, people I have talked to about our dynamics and with whom I spend one on one relationship building time with either online or in flesh space, but I also have many, especially autistic friends, my autiloves, whom I love extremely passionately. Where do I draw the arbitrary line in who to count? how often we talk? what we talk about? how they potentially feel about me? None of that makes any sense to me as an autistic person. I don’t want to conscript anyone into a relationship they aren’t interested in, I don’t need reciprocity to love them. But the love is no less real for lack of an allistic approved label.
My autiloves especially can be difficult for me to define or explain. Sometimes with other autistic people I can have an intense synergy, a spiritual vibrational synching of energies, if you will, that feels to me very similar to what people call soul mates, with none of the requirements, goal posts, or definitions. These folks I may not talk to often since neither of us have allistic social templates or ingrained rules. The combined quiet of two neurodivergent brains just trying to swim the seas of life may prevent socially expected constant contact, but that love is still deep, refreshing, growing, important love.
But what about straightforward platonic love? Well I don’t know really how to specify that, but I can tell you I have friends I love very dearly who more or less fall into a socially accepted category of “platonic” but those relationships are no less important to me, my affection for them no less important because of their friendship status.
My heart and mind aren’t hung on my genitals. My care for you does not depend on you being romantically involved with me. I’m happy to love people for their peoplehood, from afar or close up. I don’t know how to divy people into polite little categories.
So for those of you I love, thank you for being you.
For those of you who love me, thank you for giving me room to be me.
For those of you who hold me, literally or figuratively, when I am lost in the sea of my fears and depressions, I owe you my life and that is no exaggeration.
If you read this and are wondering, did he mean me just then? yes I meant you, you silly beautiful you. I love you too, in all your ways of being you.