Small dishonesty
This morning I found myself waiting for the kettle to boil in company with Kat, who works on reception. She's nice enough, and I always say hello when I go past in the morning, but we don't know each other all that well. We made friendly small talk about the weather and such-like. And I concealed the truth from her.
I was relating an anecdote about something that happened on Earth this week, and I started with "One of my housemates...". Now, it's true that I do share my house with other people, but a more accuracte description would be 'boyfriends'. The thing is, we were talking about the colder weather which has settled over Oxford, and I was enjoying the conversation. My experience to date suggests that a phrase like "One of my boyfriends..." immediately changes the topic.
I don't mind that people are curious about my somewhat unorthodox domestic situation. I don't mind answering friendly questions about our lives. I just wish that it was possible to mention it in passing, rather than have it become a talking point.
Every time I refer to my men as less than they really are, it feels dishonest; like a small betrayal of who I am and of the people who make me happy. I don't know if it's me that's the problem or the rest of the world, but I wish it didn't have to be this way. Mind you, polyamoury is gaining momentum and visibility; maybe there will come a time when no-one will care how many life-partners I have, and I can relate stories about mundane things from our lives without fear of interruption. I hope so, anyway.
I was relating an anecdote about something that happened on Earth this week, and I started with "One of my housemates...". Now, it's true that I do share my house with other people, but a more accuracte description would be 'boyfriends'. The thing is, we were talking about the colder weather which has settled over Oxford, and I was enjoying the conversation. My experience to date suggests that a phrase like "One of my boyfriends..." immediately changes the topic.
I don't mind that people are curious about my somewhat unorthodox domestic situation. I don't mind answering friendly questions about our lives. I just wish that it was possible to mention it in passing, rather than have it become a talking point.
Every time I refer to my men as less than they really are, it feels dishonest; like a small betrayal of who I am and of the people who make me happy. I don't know if it's me that's the problem or the rest of the world, but I wish it didn't have to be this way. Mind you, polyamoury is gaining momentum and visibility; maybe there will come a time when no-one will care how many life-partners I have, and I can relate stories about mundane things from our lives without fear of interruption. I hope so, anyway.