Category: Life

Wet!

• Activity: Walking
• Distance: 3.68 mi
• Duration: 01:03:44

On Facebook, I am listed as being in an ‘Open Relationship’ with Kirsty. It’s something we are still figuring out, and it may change in the future. I’ve had some brief conversations with friends and family but really, what does it mean?

Ultimately, that’s a question I can’t yet answer and, knowing that relationships evolve I’m not sure I ever will. However, I’m lucky enough to know some people involved in a polyamorous relationship and they, and other people in similar circumstances, are writing some fascinating posts.

The series is called Poly Means Many (http://www.polymeansmany.com/) and is picking apart the misconceptions and misunderstandings around what these relationships are about.

Since my divorce, the whole concept of what a relationship means to me has changed (I guess it was changing whilst I was in that relationship but I didn’t recognise it at the time). One aspect of a polyamorous relationship which, and this is the best way I can describe it, just ‘feels’ right and sits well with me, is that, simply, it’s not monogamy. The notion that one person, one relationship is going to meet every need, every desire, and every circumstantial want just seems a bit weird.

Don’t get me wrong, I know many people who are monogamous and seem happy to be so. I know that for many years it was all I needed but equally, when I started challenging my own feelings about my relationship it was then I realised that something, somewhere, was lacking. It wasn’t so much the feeling of missing out, just that something wasn’t right.

When Kirsty and I first got together, she too was out of a long term relationship and it was her that first broached the topic of trying an open, polyamorous relationship. We talked about it at some length (and still do), and as we have a similar mindset on how it could work for us, we decided to be open (pardon the pun) to opportunities.

Note that I said it ‘could’ work for us, as we are still at the ‘dipping our toes in the water’ stage but, as we are both aware that communication and honesty is the key to any good relationship (both very hard things to get right all the time) then we are both happy that time will tell. Whatever happens, we will talk it through and figure out what to do.

In the meantime, we are absorbing information, processing our own thoughts and emotions, and talking about it all. We’ve both seen other people, and are both happy that a lot of this falls into the category of “we will see”. There are further opportunities that opening this door brings, as some of the people who are also happily non-monogamous are also willing to reject other traditional boundaries or labels.

In that sense, a polyamorous relationship is no harder, or easier, than a monogamous one. If anything, having to confront some things before entering an open relationship has made us stronger. We are aware of some of the pitfalls, and that too has made us stronger, both individually and collectively.

Is it all win-win?

We will see.

Warning: My main focus at the moment is my health/weight. Read on at your own risk.

The transition from guilt to excuse is a quick one for me.

When I feel a bit flat, or bored, or just tired (mostly the latter) I get lazy and my good intentions falter, my standards drop. I slob around, let my flat get messy and adopt a ‘who gives a shit’ attitude. It’s not very nice.

This mood usually ends up with a few nights of high-fat, high-calorie, takeaway dinners.

I know I shouldn’t do this. I know I shouldn’t eat what I do, I’m very very aware of that, and in that respect I’m no different to anyone else who isn’t happy with their weight. I’m very aware of everything I eat. All the time.

On days where I’m determined and my willpower reserves are high, it’s not an issue but it’s still there. That quick, instant, thought of ‘should I eat this?’ never really goes away, how could it? Weight loss isn’t instant and I’ve never lost enough to NOT have some form of beer belly, so I have a constant reminder right here in front of me (currently wedged up against the desk). Every single day.

Every. Single. Day.

It’s a constant battle, trying to suppress or ignore the voice in my head that tells me I’m hungry when I’m not, or that I need chocolate, or pizza, when I don’t.

And those times, those ohh too frequent times, when I succumb? The voice changes to that of a gently scolding parent, admonishing me, making me feel guilty.

Quickly followed by the excuse… tomorrow I’ll be better.

But tomorrow isn’t better, not often enough at least.

That said, sometimes things click into place. Last year it was better for a while, but then it slipped away, as my willpower reserves were depleted (my new job was the largest impact on this by far, but that’s just another excuse, isn’t it).

So for the last 6 months I’ve been guilty.

Caught between knowing I need to change, knowing I need to do something, to be better, and yet completely unable to do much about it.

Guilty as charged.

But guilt is not a motivator, not for me, so on Friday last week when my Doctor suggested, after telling me that I needed to lose weight, that I should “go home, feel guilty and come back in six weeks with some weight loss” … well I was speechless.

I took to Twitter to voice my disbelief.

@gordon : late to the game on this one (sorry!) but that’s a shit GP (no surprise). Use that as “fuck you” motivation?

— Lyle (@LyleD4D) May 11, 2013

It took me (with a lot of help from Kirsty) until late Saturday evening to even feel up to cracking a smile, and it’s only today that I’m finally coming round to the view offered by Lyle.

I will go back to the doctor’s in six weeks.

I will stand on the scales and he will see weight loss.

And, silently, I will mouth the words, fuck you.

Fuck you Doctor.

Fuck you guilt.

Weight.

It’s a funny word.

I’d prefer ‘health’ or ‘fitness’ but weight is the word that will be used, he’ll tell me to stand on the scales, and reiterate the why and wherefore, the science and encouragement.

And I’ll agree.

Because he’s right.

I weigh too much.

I don’t eat as well as I could.

It’s not ignorance, it’s laziness, it’s excuses, it’s habit.

When I get bored, I eat.

That’s why I like to keep busy.

But it needs to change.

I want it to change.

I’m taking steps to change.

Change is good.

Onwards.

New tattoo, sprained ankle, and a desire to write more.

But aside from that, not much else in my head. Nothing ready to fall out here at least.

Off to my cousin’s wedding on Friday, sunny Birmingham for some fun with friends at the weekend and on Monday I’m hoping to try the award winning Meathead Ltd burger. My boss is over from the US of A, so hoping to treat him to some of the better places in Glasgow. Dining at Urban on Thursday with the team, and then on Monday I’ll drag him to Oran Mor, Nice and Sleazy, and then to the Horseshoe Bar, finishing at Blackfriars.

A mini-tour of some of the more down to earth pubs in Glasgow should about do it.

It’s funny, for all the times I eat out in Glasgow, I don’t really blog about it that much. Have I mentioned the Hanoi Bike Shop for example? or Pinto? The Hyndland Cafe?

We are spoiled for choice. I do love my home city (more on that, later!).