Bruised Apples

Sometime in the mid-90s, I taught myself to juggle. A lot of people would have thought, let's watch someone else juggle first. Let's rent a VHS tape. Let's buy one of those trendy Klutz books about juggling. But not me. Did I start out with silk scarves that fall slowly? Hell no. I started with tennis balls, and compensated for not having enough time to throw one before catching the next one by throwing them ten to fifteen feet in the air. It was months before I figured out technique and was able to juggle indoors.

But I never could get past juggling three. At some point, I got too frustrated to go back and learn another way, so I polished what I knew (and know to this day, to the sadness of all round fruit that passes through my kitchen).

When navigating poly, I should have thought about my past juggling limitations when deciding how much dating I could handle at one time. There was a month-long period back in 2009 when I regularly saw three different guys. This might have been okay if I felt the same level of casual connection with all of them, but there were two I felt quite fond of (one of whom was Boyfriend), so my dates with the third started to fill me with more guilt than joy. My mind was off with one of the other two while physically with the third, and that was when I realized I might not be as good at juggling as I thought.

For a long time after that, after it was down to just Boyfriend, I didn't date very many other people. I was trying to get my career going and became more involved in organizations. I went through a brief period after I came out as bisexual when I wanted all the ladies, but even that, after a while, calmed down to a quiet, "I'd like a lady, if she happens to come by."

But now, life has thrown me more tennis balls, and I'm trying to juggle again. Only this time, I know what it feels like when I'm taking on too much. I'm already feeling like I've reverted back to tossing them fifteen feet in the air. I like expanding my life to new people, but I need to be realistic, so I have two choices: lay down some juggling implements or start over and learn how to juggle properly. 

To get away from the metaphor for a second (and I know, I'm quite attached to it at this point), practicing polyamory requires the ability to manage time. If Rule One is Communication, Rule Two is Time Management. But even beyond scheduling, I feel lousy when I don't think I'm giving my attention fairly to someone. When New Boy suggested I write about juggling new partners and time management, he said the first thing should be, "Don't drop them on their heads." Of course he was trying* to be funny, but he was right. 

So what do I do? The solution depends on the situation of course, but the first thing I've learned to do is be honest. That conversation sucks, especially if you're talking to someone who you like and who likes you back. Letting that someone know you might not have as much time or as much attention to give them is hard. But what sucks worse is not saying anything and fading away over time, possibly leaving the other person wondering what they did wrong. I still might eventually realize that I can't give that person the attention they deserve, but at least I didn't drop them on their head.

I should also probably learn to juggle properly, to be honest. I should look at past experiences and realize how much I should attempt to take on in the first place. I should factor in the mountains of grading, the volunteering, the writing, and the social engagements, and more than anything else be realistic, so instead of having to limit the tennis balls, I don't pick up as many in the first place. The ideal results are less hurt feelings, fewer bruised apples, and more sanity, the last of which I need most of all.

Oh, and if anyone has one of those old Klutz juggling books laying around, I wouldn't mind reading up a bit this time.

*Okay who am I kidding, it was funny. I like funny. Funny is sexy.