Monogamy is selfish? I'm not convinced...

Kenya Stevens of JujuMama LLC left an interesting post on her Facebook wall today:

The nature of monogamy is selfishness. Most people would gladly have another lover, but what kills the dream is they would have to accept the same scenario. They deny themselves to further deny the one person they profess to love most. That to me is the real drive behind infidelity, the selfishness, and wanting to keep... your lover in darkness while you explore the light. (via Shannon Roberts)

Now I love Kenya's unconventional approach to strengthening relationships and her book is in my Amazon shopping cart for quick purchase this Friday. But her recent statement ate at my thoughts until I replied on her page and moseyed here for more commentary.

My original message to Kenya:

I don't agree that monogamy is selfish in itself. Pretending to be monogamous while cheating on a partner that you told something different is selfish. When both agree on the structure of their relationship -- that's harmony.

My His Side values monogamy as much as I do. As such, we have harmony in that area. Isn't it better to say that either ... See Moremodel works... so long as it is a shared value & desire?

Footnote: Monogamy does have its virtues... like the possible resulting children, the possible shared disease, etc. since there's no 100% method of preventing both. Discounting one structure to promote the other denies the value to those who chose it.

I couldn't resist spilling this conversation into this blog, because monogamy is central to my desire in a relationship. Kenya chronicled her journey into sharing her husband's goodies on her old blog, and it was clear it took a long time for the choice to sit well in her soul. That alone tells me that she clearly had a different preference for her marriage - which also features young children. As far as I was concerned, it took a pretty selfish motive on her husband's part to ask her to endure the ordeal.

What say you, or dear readers? Hit us in the comments.

Footnote: This blog will feature a book review of Kenya's book "Change Your Man: How to Become the Woman He Wants." I agree with Kenya's premise that men and women are different - and attempting to change your man via confrontation won't lead to harmony. I ordered her husband's companion book for His Side.

Bitter Pills to Swallow

Several weeks ago, my parents received bad news. "Although you are legally married, you've been living apart for many many years. He must be dropped from your retirement insurance."

In a funny twist, my parents are together almost every day. She cooks for him. He helps her with the house. They introduce themselves as husband and wife. But they can't stand living together. Mom is too controlling and dramatic, which doesn't mix well with the healthy doses of testosterone pulsing through dad's veins. Even in their 60's and 70's, some of their encounters mirror the hilarity of tweens trying to navigate puppy love.

Anyway...

Since mom couldn't produce a single utility bill or bank account statement in dad's name at her address, he is left to his own sparse insurance. They estimate his medical bills could increase by $1000 out of pocket per month. Nobody on retirement funds can afford that nonsense.

As my mother shared this crisis with me (and lamented about my father's annual visit to his girlfriend's hometown - a total other story), she said the bitter words I hear from far too many older women. "STAY. SINGLE." She meant it. "Share your life and your resources with no-one. You'll have to help them one day."

I have thrown my hands to the sky and raised my face to the wind many times with the same objection. "What part of that advice offers me the option and information I need to experience the beauty of a loving relationship?" Doesn't choosing a partner come with the absolute promise that one day I'll have to hold them up during a time of need? Doesn't the anticipation of their love and support during my darkest hours balance the perceived hardship? If that isn't love, then WHAT. IS????

Wounded people wound others. That concept is one block in the foundation of this blog. The wounded spread their bitterness like a disease... cleverly concealed under the shroud of "loving relationship advice."

Keep this in your back pocket: If the advice you get doesn't explain how love can win, then the puppet strings of bitterness and fear are showing all over the messenger. Smile. Keep it moving. Brush the bitterness off your clothes and find a trail that leads to love. It is the only truly positive power this planet has ever known.

Photo yanked from Legal Juice.

Rewriting History and Distorting the Present

Big Mark said something at his blog that gripped me. It wasn't even the main point of his post, but I stopped reading. Dead. I couldn't go on until I digested the truth of his statement:

The trap of looking back is that the past sometimes looks better than it really was.

Say it out loud. Now say it again. Close your eyes and recall the times you fell into this trap. Now here's my story...

I was miserable when I was married. I chose my husband for all the wrong reasons. He looked great on paper, and he was an out for me as a 26-year old single mom dreaming of moving from mom's house. I had a great career, but my life was minus the savings and the guts to step out.

He walked out one week before our 4th anniversary. He was chasing a single welfare mom with a brood of kids who was willing to sell her soul for the BMW she thought he paid for.

After his departure, fear gripped my life. I wasn't sure how to care for two boys - the one previous and the one we shared - and make ends meet without a second income. I became physically ill, and I decided to get him back as I rewrote history to convince myself that "it wasn't that bad."

He never came back, and I continually count that as one of the biggest blessings of my life. Because it was that bad. Not because he was so bad (although that's arguable), but because I was losing myself to be a "good wife" in exchange for the security of two incomes and a reputation of "good wife."

Three years later... almost to the exact day... I met His Side. Like a precious puppy rolling in the grass at play, I languished in the freedom I found to be myself and still be loved.

In response, I did my share of distorting the present. A new fear of losing that feeling drew me to focus on His Side's flaws as an excuse to be alone again. Because His Side isn't fatally flawed in one critical way: He doesn't hide a single ounce of his love for me in spite of his flaws. Like children, he makes me crazy, but love keeps me wrapped in his life.

I left him. I put him out. I demonized his flaws. But he presses on with protecting me from harm, loving me, putting that love into action (in endless ways that deserve their own post), and reminding me that he is committed to loving me for the rest of his life.

Rewriting history. Distorting the present. Neither is healthy or fruitful.

He bought me a beautiful ring over the weekend. I wear it on my middle finger. He held onto the matching band, and wears it on his pinky. In spite of my fearful defiance, I have enough information about his character, his fight, and his love, to concede that one day both will be on the proper finger.

He promised to stop by here and write. I can't wait to hear what he has to say.

Stay tuned...

And now a break for the Tiger...

I know I just returned to the blog. I know you're waiting to hear what's-up in the land of Her Side and the elusive His Side. But I need to stop by and say something about our nation's current fascination with Tiger Woods' bedroom shenanigans.

Stop it.

Just stop it.

Even if that poor man wanted to reconcile with his wife, our prying-ass nosey eyes are making the man's plight difficult. Not too long ago, I would have quickly recruited myself to team Leave His Triflin Ass. But I slowly find myself creeping to the sidelines of team Make Dat Shit Work. Because folks want the fairy tale ending without the big bad wolf or the evil stepmother.

Not one day in my life will I condone cheating. Even if you spouse is a first-class jerk. Leave their ass first. But I'm all for couples looking for ways to reconcile such breaches before the lawyers get their grubby hands on the assets.

Can we leave the Tiger alone long enough to pay attention to the shit in our closets?

I'll do my best to say-no-more about this, but ooooooooh, I'm just itching to debate all theories from sex addiction to the stress of the good-boy image.

Would somebody be kind enough to stop me from turning this into a series???