Poly Chicago

This is the first in a series of entries about the little parts of polyamory, from individual perspectives.

I’m not big on gender roles. I don’t like getting pushed into them, and I don’t like people making presumptions based on their ideas on them. I have too many feelings I want to share, and way too much yarn in my stash, to get automatically lumped in with other men like that.

But there is physiology, and I am a big guy. I don’t think in a scary way, but I’m strong and tall, and I am able to get things off of high shelves. I am also able to pick up heavy things and put them back down again.

Last spring, it dawned on me that poly is about love and sex and relationships and balloons and rainbows, but it’s also about going over to my girlfriend’s house and taking the air conditioners out of the basement and installing them. And then going to my other girlfriend’s house and putting in her air conditioners. And then going home so that I can take care of my air conditioners. And five months later, I would go back and take them all out of the windows and put them in the basements.

But that isn’t the end of that either, because during the winter the humidifiers come out, and they need refilling constantly. And in some cases there are things on high shelves that need to come down, and spiders that need escorting outside, and kitty litter that needs to come up from the car.

I am not upset by this at all. In fact, I take pride in the fact that I can do this for my partners, and I am happy that I am doing something concrete for them. In some stupid kind of sappy way, I have done something really tangible. Productive. And, yes, there is that gender expectation of being a provider literally doing the heavy lifting. My back might do well with a little less poly, but my heart is happier. My life is happier.

I’m looking forward to spring. I’m looking forward to taking the humidifiers down, and bringing the air conditioners back up.