Slowly but surely I’m getting better at this poly thing. I can literally feel it. Feel it in the way the jealousy bites at me, but then some part of me rejects it, and it turns into a self-analyzing moment with the potential for personal growth.

I don’t want to be jealous. That doesn’t change my knee-jerk emotional response to the news my lover has a date, but it does change how much I allow myself to feed that response or stew in it or self-pity before I turn to how to make this a learning opportunity for me.

It’s harder now because I am staying with my lover while his housemate is on vacation in this interim between moving cities and moving into my own place.

It’s harder because I’m in the other bedroom as I write this with earplugs in knowing he’s on his way home or possibly home from a date already and I will sleep alone while he might not in a room right beside me.

But I don’t want to be jealous. I want to be happy for him. To be joyful for him to explore pleasure and intimacy because I see the need it fills in him and I love him and want him fulfilled that way. And I’m getting there.

It will be easier when I’m not in the other room trying to plan to not be home or when that failed to have back-ups like earplugs. When I’m in my place I can watch Netflix with ice cream if I need to or just do whatever I would do otherwise and his dates won’t make me change my plans necessarily, because I wouldn’t have been seeing him that night anyway.

Maybe someday I could share a house with a poly lover (never a bedroom yet often a bed) but not now. Not yet. It’s good for me to know this about myself and I am grateful we have navigated this month of shared space so well.

I am glad I can say that I’m frustrated when plans change or jealous or fearful a date will lead to a partnership that could eventually threaten the quality time I need to feel loved in a relationship. I can say these things and be validated and have him know I’m not angry or blaming him but just sharing the parts of me that are more vulnerable to hurt and still need to grow.

I know that the best thing to do is what someone would advise a single person to do: go out, meet people, do the things you love.

I admit that in some way I am jealous of the ease with which dates come to him. (Or seem to). The almost instant connection I formed with him was an aberration for me, but perhaps closer to the norm for him.

And that’s okay. I have to remember that him having dates doesn’t invalidate my worth as a person or partner. I’m coming off of a hard time of loneliness before the move and haven’t yet forged close friendships here. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. That doesn’t mean it won’t be me having dates someday (soon?).

Instead of dwelling on my jealousy or insecurity I’d rather think of what I can do to feed myself and make my own life as full of joy and intimacy and connection as I want it to be, without demanding that it all be from one source.

I can take myself to dinner alone and read my book and be okay. And while it is harder for me to make friends initially, I can find opportunities to be social and begin forging friendships and connections of my own.

I know that I have a fear of abandonment. I know that I can be insecure about my likability. I know that I can be possessive of anyone close to me, whether friend or lover, because of the first two. I know that it’s difficult sometimes for me to be flexible about sudden changes in plans and that I prefer to be my own agent than to have to coordinate around someone else’s schedule.

Perhaps I can learn from my lover and try to be more open and less shy. Take that leap to make myself vulnerable and do the things which make me passionate and joyful as an individual, and let THAT feed my relationship as well.

It’s easier now to detach from my difficult emotions and ask what they are telling me instead of letting them drive me. I want to grow and change and work on my own emotional baggage. And maybe my kitten will cuddle with me tonight while I sleep.