Why Primary Means Just That

We recently had a chance to chat with Justin & Betty. They are a lot of fun and I look forward to doing it again soon. One of the first things I was asked was how are things with "Mr. West Coast". It took me a second to realize to whom they were referring.. and as things have changed significantly.. he wasn't on the top of my thought pile.

I really don't want to get into all the details here.. for obvious reasons. Instead, I'm going to take the opportunity to just ramble about relationships instead. I'll try to make it good.. don't go just yet. =)

Traditionally, monogamous marriages provide a decent amount of security for the participants. You play the field.. figure out what you want.. and those of us lucky enough to find it get married. The uncertainty of the future fades away, replaced by idealized visions of what the happy family, complete with 2.3 kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence might be like should we ever be able to attain it.

Time goes by, the individuals are typically exposed to varying experiences and personal growth curves, and inevitably, quite a large percentage of those unions end in divorce. The people they were when they thought things were so great are no longer as they have slowly morphed into different people. Those different people can't always see eye to eye and the fighting breaks out. Only 63% of American children grow up with both biological parents in the household. Since divorce is particularly devastating to the children, any method that could be conjured to prevent that separation, one might think, would be a good thing.

If the married couple with children can find a way to coexist for the benefit of the children (and perhaps for the benefit of themselves- all redeeming qualities of a spouse haven't likely ceased to exist entirely) then the family structure can be maintained on some level. The children might actually get to interact with each parent every day and will likely continue to feel the same security they would if the parents were truly still in love. I certainly remember classmates whose parents slept in different bedrooms. I recall various explanations; one of them snored loudly, one liked to read in bed and the light kept the other awake, among others. I wonder now if those marriages were some of those being held together for the benefit of the children.

But can we be happy in such an arrangement? Is it technically a "separation" if you're still residing in the same house? If terms and conditions can be worked out to allow an amicable coexistence, one NOT fraught with constant fighting, then in theory the children would be better off in the long run. It would take very mature individuals to be able to pull that off. Set aside the differences.. forget about the things that annoy the hell out of us.. just be friends to one another and be there for the family. Despite the possibility that the parents might not still be in love with each other, there is bound to be lingering love for each other. Love.. caring and concern for the others' well being.. one would think would still be there for the parent of our child(ren), if even not at the same level than was there historically.

If we can open up our minds and hearts sufficiently to allow this type of arrangement for the benefit of the children, then certainly we can be open to the idea of communal living with others we love. I picture large Italian villas filled with three generations of family members. Sure the fighting happens.. but the underlying caring is always there. In the end, it would take the parents, those who are separated but holding the family together for the sake of the children, to make decisions about what each of them wants or needs to feel complete again.

For some people there is nothing outside of themselves necessary to complete them. Yet many of us seek out companionship, friendship, and connections that deepen as the relationship evolves. It's a fundamental part of the human experience. We are not, by nature, solitude beings. How wonderful it would be to have complete faith and trust that the children are safe and well cared for by one of their parents, rather than a potentially sketchy baby sitter, when the time comes to spend time with persons other than the separated spouse. Balance and fairness certainly would come into play.. each party needs to feel they're getting their fair share of time to explore other options. But that's easy.. a simple agreement sets up the frequency and duration of such time.

So here we have a set up in which the children feel secure, there's no fighting about who gets the children on various birthdays and holidays, and the separated spouses can still draw upon each others' strengths. We've eliminated entirely the wasted funds required to maintain two separate households, not to mention the gasoline wasted driving back and forth from Mom's house to Dad's, and back again. It seems a very "green" solution. Inevitably, one or both of the parents are going to find new love. That new person is going to have some unconventionality to work through if they want to be a part of that parent's life.

In a way this is all a kind of prelude to what I had running through my mind when I found new love. It's not that Poseidon and I have grown so far apart that divorce would be the only option, but we do have our differences. It was my understanding that our relationship allowed for love outside of our primary relationship, but it would seem that is based entirely on balance and inclusion, rather than only ONE of us finding that deeper connection outside of the marriage. Poseidon felt excluded, shunned, and replaced by my relationship with "Mr. West Coast". Whereas I believed that he would be happy for me that I had found a connection with an amazing person, he was resentful and hurt that I would even consider such a thing.

We've discussed the implications at such great length that it became tiresome. Yet, through this process, I have a much better understanding of him and what drives him. I'm certain I have a better understanding of myself and what drives me. To be the recipient of another person's affections is wondrous, to be sure. To be made to feel like you're important to someone else is exhilarating. And when you hold each other, or kiss, and the connection feels unbreakable, like some bond that was meant to be, it's easy to let the partner by marriage slip a notch or two.

For most married people in a monogamous relationship, that occurrence in itself is the beginning of the end. Choices have to be made, arguments are generated in a bizarre psychological dance that is designed to distance ourselves from the old partner. Perhaps it's just nature saying "move on.. time for new genetic diversity in the species". Perhaps it's just inevitable as we grow, sometimes apart, that new and different connections are what keep us going.

Throughout all of this I never really questioned that Poseidon still loved me, and I knew that I still loved him. That primary bond, one that has existed essentially for my entire adult life, feels unbreakable. The secondary connections never quite seem to hold up to the same degree. Affections fade, attention and concern wanes, other priorities in that person's life squeeze you out. It's easy to feel confused, hurt and misguided. Why was it necessary for what was once okay to evaporate? Or maybe it never was okay and we were just deluding ourselves.. wishing to be something we were not. Maybe we're too concerned about hurting other more important people in our lives to risk it. Maybe it wasn't meant to be in the first place. Infatuation fades, pain sets in, the aching begins and we are left alone to find a way to heal.

Yet, thankfully, in this amazing marriage with Poseidon, I have never felt left alone. Through the pain we have each felt we have found new strength in ourselves along with new understanding. Was the pain worth it? Maybe. Probably. I don't think I'm jaded sufficiently that I would deny such a relationship should one wander my way in the future. I would, however, be a little more cautious next time.