Despite the border closures and the block-out, I was able to see my colleagues again thanks to the new technologies… Long live my friends WhatsApp and Skype, which allow me to stay connected with them at a lower cost. Yes, G., the phone too, but the accountant almost died to receive my last bill, and since I still need him, I have to avoid astronomical bills by using it sparingly.
So, as I said in the introduction, I retook my chatting around a cup of coffee (a good chocolate for me) by screen interposed. In three months, many stories have had time to tie, to untie and some questions will come soon to feed my section “Under my duvet.” While cleaning up my computer (if, if it happens to me once a year), I found a draft of a previous post on my love situation.
As most of you know, I am polyamorous and I totally assume it. For those who missed a chapter, I live within a hive and I had two men in my life, one on each continent. I give back, for some, the definition of polyamory.
Polyamory is a sexual orientation, in which we are in love with more than one person, with the informed consent of all concerned. But, do not confuse it with adultery, infidelity, polygamy or licentiousness. It is a state of mind that rejects monogamy and the notion of ownership of a body.
The problem in fully assuming who we are is that the heavy ones do not understand our rejections. They often confuse our body with an open-bar when in no case does it correspond to polyamory. So, often, we hide our identity to be able to get away with a lie that allows everyone to keep the face, rather than frankly saying shit.
But, if you are like me very free on the subject, and assume yourself to the open, you can’t take refuge behind the false excuse of “I can’t, I already have a boyfriend” (implying a couple exclusivity that is not in our genes). In this case, as soon as the no crosses your lips, often the word slutty arrives at gallop.
So, we have to leave in some very tiring explanations in the long run that can be summarized as follows. “Well, yes, we sleep with whoever we want, but no, with you, it’s not going to do it, implying that I’m not going to spread my thighs, just because you want to, to spare your susceptibility as a manly male…” I’m free to decide who I’m having fun with under a duvet and it is final. I’m free in this field and it’s not a boy who’s gonna impose anything on me.
So, once and for all, I advocate that everyone can have fun under a duvet without constraint, but only between consenting adults and above all in perfect respect and communication between all partners. And know that when you call me a slut, I take it as a compliment … because if you look at its definition, it is quite consensual: the slut is very exactly the girl who sleeps with whom she wants (and not with whom she wants). No reason it should be an insult. Quite the contrary.
And to be totally egalitarian, no, not all guys are dick ready to jump on everything that moves, and that a guy too has a free will and can refuse to sleep with you, ladies. What is valid for you, ladies, must also be valid for men. So, if they don’t want to, respect their decision.