I've been married twice, once to a woman for over a decade, and we co-parent are now teenage daughter and we live next door to each other.

My second marriage was to a man, but that marriage also ended in divorce just after four years.

After my second marriage ended, I made sense out of what first felt like a failure.

I think by intellectualizing marriage and monogamy as some kind of simply unnatural state

and marriage as a social construct that benefits society by increasing generational wealth.

Yeah, I know.

I began to rationalize my way out of any desire for a long-term partnership.

But then one night I went out dancing, alone and quite happily so.

And I met another person there also alone, quite happily so. And I met another person there also alone, quite happily so.

And we danced and talked all evening.

That was two years ago, and we have been friends, lovers, companions,

in so many amazing ways since.

For the first year of our friendship, we dated other people. Now, for the last

nine months or so, I have not dated anyone else but him. So here we are, two people committed

to non-monogamy and yet, at least for now, monogamous. We both intellectualize a lot and are rather public people in our communities.

I'm a clergy person in a Christian church.

So you can imagine that the expectations of me and my relationship status,

especially as a female clergy person in the southern U.S. are quite big.

And so we keep our relationship really private. It feels safe there, and yet part of me is wondering

what I'm so fearful of. Am I missing out on some benefit of monogamy or at least a relationship that's not

so separate from the rest of my life? And I'm deeply curious if I have abandoned on some level my wants

and desires out of fear.

...