They say, “There’s strength in numbers…”, but just as with so many other things, moderation and wisdom must also be liberally applied to this. For instance, when the time comes to speak up against some social or political injustice, absofuckinglutely the more the merrier. But, as it pertains to one’s relationship? Well, anything more than two is decidedly problematic.
But, I am not going to address the periodic three-some business… not today 😉
What I am addressing however are the hidden dangers of groups. Cliques. Those knots of people that, positive or destructive, have chosen to comfortably settle into a mindset and a way of life that is resistant to not only growth, but change. Those that view any alternative as threatening, therefore adversarial. The cliques that stand guard to protect… what exactly?
Now, these groups can be quite large, or they can be as few as that other form of three-some business. In this instance, size truly does not matter. What does however, are the pitfalls harvesting from the roots up. The universal mob-mentality that must exist for the initial formation. So often, some may not even be aware that this is happening; viewing their circumstance simply as like-minded, geographically-similar folks enjoying each other. Making the best of the set of social realities they have been dealt. Logical.
What also may slip some in the process however is their subsequent rejection of and antagonism for any outside influences. A mentality that rejects first and seeks forgiveness later. The misguided sense of authority that says one member is able to speak for and speak of. That all decisions must be inclusive. All thoughts, secrets, opinions and emotions subject to be shared amongst each other. Without permission or consent.
Okay. You may see that I reject this in its entirety.
I am in no way stating that I believe groups of people cannot share a successful relationship. No indeed. What I am saying is that in order to do so, each individual must remain individual. Boundaries must be established and observed. And, each must possess an overflow of autonomy. Each player must firmly reject any semblance of a pack-mentality.
Listen… when I started this blog, I vowed, not to be as transparent as possible; but to be transparent… because it’s possible. Prior to my going public, I had spent many many years in the darkness, holding others’ secrets for them. Sheltering them from ridicule (or possible prosecution); sheltering myself from the pain of reliving and facing. Slowly I realized the shame was not mine… the lessons were. I am saying this to say this – if I am ever going to speak, I will speak the truth or shut up. I will use my experiences to better explain not only my opinion, but hopefully my position. My position in life. Right. At. This. Moment.
Let’s address this.
I am committed to being the sole narrator of my life. Yes, with every interaction I allow you authority to pen a verse or a line, but never be mistaken that I reserve the right to tell it. With that, comes my extreme caution as it relates to placing myself in any situation that gives the (erroneous) impression that others are allowed to speak “on my behalf”. A group. A clique. Environments that are associated with the loss of the right to privacy. Situations that seem to assume that simply by virtue of showing up, you have implicitly given permission to have your stories told by another.
“There is strength in numbers…” Yes. But oftentimes that “strength” is of the destructive kind. The kind that rolls downhill gathering steam from all the other like-minded destructive souls it collects along the way. Folks that succumb to mindlessness and a need to belong. Those that have deluded themselves into thinking ‘many’ means ‘popular’.
I speak for myself. I stand in the satisfaction and knowledge that I only share my truth. The scribbles you have made in my life are valuable and precious. But how I share them, if I share them, when I share them are solely my decisions. As it relates to my life, the strength I need comes from conviction, not numbers.
I have had a three-some. Considering I am fifty-one years old (and a Scorpio), I think that that should not only be expected, but the only part that should shock you is that I have only had one! It was good. Never need to do it again. I have never been to either an all-inclusive fete or resort. The reason? I reject the idea that anyone gets to decide what that “all” should be. Someone else’s satisfaction with everything they choose to offer me may differ greatly with everything I believe I should have.
Like most other topics I address, this one is also not arbitrary. This is a real experience I am having and, one I am sure others have experienced or are experiencing. The dichotomy of attraction and rejection. The simplistic destructive nature that allows for the lack of true growth and the potential for success. The mentality that derives its misguided strength from those that choose to partake or entertain.
I am a survivor. Lord knows the experiences I have had that disallow for any indulgence of this, save this post. I write because I can. I write because I should. I write because I am. I write because I have a daughter whom I need to always be sure of her strength… individually. Separate from. In spite of.
The men who abused me had a lot of friends. Not one held them accountable or stood up for me. Today, this black woman needs no group or clique. She is mindful of and grateful for those that have helped along the way. But… She speaks up. For herself. About herself. To herself.