"He really values you. I can see it. That's good enough for me." ~ Phil, 2021
In 2019 Joseph and I had been working at Musicfest together for 9 summers. We had developed mutual respect and understanding, and worked as an extremely effective, comfortable and complimentary team.
I don't know that we'd really ever spoken.
Oh, we'd talked about the festival frequently and a bit about his life once or twice. I'd listened while he spoke to others, and this one time, years ago, I overheard him compliment me. (Be still my beating heart!)
I'd told him to sleep more and he'd told me to eat something.
But our free time almost never lined up, and that was OK. "Safe" a part of me always whispered.
In 2019 we really spoke. He shared about his polyamorous lifestyle, discussing his struggles and hopes. I opened up about mine, something I'd literally never revealed outside of Phil before. We talked for hours, whenever time would allow, and late into the night. If someone had asked me before then if I loved Joseph, I would have said yes, but never imagined he might love me back. I fall in love easily, it doesn't change anything.
Then we hugged, and I knew. It was like the movies... Time stopped and all I could feel was our breathing.
It felt like forever, that hug that was more than a hug. As soon as we unclasped, we both moved quickly apart and away, sitting on the dew-soaked grass, equally breathless. "I'm going to talk to Phil" I said. "Good idea" he replied.
Nothing was decided that weekend, and we kept our distance, physically at least. The discussion, however, continued.
He told me to stand up for myself, to ask for agency and advocate for the freedom to have my needs met. He said I deserved to be a part of decision making in all aspects of my life and relationships. He told me I was amazing and desirable. I told him he deserved to be happy and that his brain was fascinating, and we explored the many, many things we had in common.
I'd been watching this man parent his kids, love his wife, run his business and serve his community for almost 10 years. I admired him deeply. Suddenly he wanted to be with me and I had no idea what to do. We texted for a week or so after the festival, exploring possibilities.
Luckily, the decision was removed from me. His wife told him no and the last thing I wanted was to cause issues, so we stopped chatting and returned to our normal lives. Covid set in before the next festival would have placed us together again, making those normal lives look anything but, and I spared him only the occasional thought. I was relieved that the festival wouldn't happen. Surely a couple of years would take the edge off of these feelings. I consigned the whole mess to God, and moved on.
Late summer 2020 Joseph contacted me and said he was going to begin dating in September, and would I consider exploring a relationship with him? Oh, there were those pesky feelings again.
I immediately took it to prayer, and the answer was no. Solid, undeniable, God told me no.
Oh, it was difficult. I went for solitary drives and cried and prayed and hoped. I was broken before God for between a week and ten days, asking for the answer to change. Finally I emailed Joseph a long and heartfelt, apologetic refusal.
My fall was busy, we were planning a move to the island. Building a life for our kids. Once again I thrust him to the back of my mind, and there he stayed.
Until he died.
It was my birthday when his wife called, and I'd already been having a difficult day. My sister had endured a serious trauma and I was supporting her to the best of my capacity. I took a break to pick the kids up from school, and my phone rang in the parking lot.
Joseph had committed suicide and been revived twice, and was now stable in hospital.
There are no words, but I offered what support I could to her over the phone. Then I hung up, dropped the kids at home, and took my sister somewhere safe.
Then, alone in the car, I began to scream.
My own emotions often take me by surprise... I was screaming and praying, a mix of fear for my sister and deep sadness for Joseph. I prayed for them both, without fancy words, just deep anguish and love. So much love.
When the storm passed, I decided I would check in and see if I could support him and his wife in any way.
That's how we moved forward, with friendship and with me supporting his marriage more than personal interaction. We were careful not to discuss more than that, and after I moved closer, we were careful not to be alone.
Then, unexpectedly, we were alone. And everything... everything was not only as strong as it had been in 2019, but even stronger. He explained he was going to be entering into an additional relationship no matter what, and he'd like for it to be me. I told him I needed time to think. I discussed with Phil how I was likely a good choice since I would support his marriage, and he was so lonely... and oh, how I loved him.
This time when I asked, God was quiet. I begged Him to say no, and He just said... Love. I asked if it would be safe and He just said... Be. I asked Phil again and Phil told me to go where my heart was leading me. He said that, as long as we both agreed not to tell anyone else, as far as he was concerned we could date if we wanted to.
And I really did.
This time I accepted Joseph. I accepted myself. I accepted his love, and shared my own. Our relationship looked like encouraging text messages and shared songs. It was developed through a couple of hours of connection on Tuesday mornings, when we could arrange it, on my time off from the house. I saw him about 3 times per month starting in April.
July came and I only saw him twice. Life was busy.
In August I injured my back and saw him not at all. He was beside himself wanting to come and take care of me, carry me to the bathroom and make sure I was OK. I laughed and crawled myself around and kept moving forward. The idea that I would need someone.... It was silly. (Plus, nobody carries me!) Joseph was just icing on the cake of my life, I told myself. Sweet and wonderful, but not essential.
As my life changed, that changed. He became an integral part of the cake, and I had to admit that I needed someone else in a way that surprised me.
Finally I decided to tell everyone.
After we'd been together for two years, I didn't want to hide anymore. We were moving in, going all in, and I was ready to come out.
"It won't be so bad," he told me. "Your family will see that you are happy. It will take them some time, but they will get there."
My sweet, optimistic dessert. I knew. I knew that to have this man, to truly be open about what our family now looked like was to give up something important. I was stepping off of the pedestal. I was choosing to forever forego the esteem and regard of my family of origin, and members of my religious community.
As much as I needed Joseph, Phil did too. And our kids. We needed this life, this family. What was left was for me to stand strong and step away from deception. What was left was for me to stop hiding.
It was also right.
And the thing about choosing Joseph... I've never been stronger.
Truth may bring pain, but it always sets me free.
