Non-Traditional Relationships
I'm psychotically far from certain, but I believe the term, "Non-Traditional Relationships" was all the Cat's Meow in the 60's and 70's. The phrase is attached to traumatic memories of child prostitution, so I react to the term with the irrational fervor of a PTSD sufferer. DON'T MAKE ME SIT IN ON THIS CONVERSATION! ! ! FLIGHT IN PROGRESS! ! ! Give me directions to the nearest Toxic People Landfill, please. I'm moving up to a better class of losers.
The variant which emerged in my psychotherapy sessions in the 80's was "Non-Traditional Career." By the time it reached the psychotherapy sessions, I had reamed more than one new asshole reacting to any variant of that moniker for my science and engineering ambitions. I'm not proud of that fact. Most of those new assholes were reamed onto people who did not deserve new assholes. Self-forgiveness and amends works in progress. . . It is regretably easy to victimize the innocent. The guilty are far more adept at self-defense.
It be social plans for this weekend which triggered the memory set this week. One of ES's many exes is bringing her new boyfriend up here for a weekend jam session. And that is only the tip of the non-traditional iceberg of our relationship with this woman. She is currently the first official employee of Hubby's honey biz and doing one hell of a job with it. We are having a hard time finding an appropriate job title for the work she is doing, but is that a real suprise in an LLC which only registered its name a few short months ago? Her ability to work without a job description gets my vote as her most valuable asset. Finding a journal acronym for her has been quite the challenge. She last showed up here as, "AB." Assistant Beekeeper. Alas, she experienced an allergic reaction to bee stings earlier this year and . . . Need I say? ? ? By then she had developed enough proficiency in designing labels, developing and distributing new products that her handicap in working the hives seemed quite forgivable.
Does we have to cover the part of the Ex slumbering his years away at the Urban Homestead? His closed door is his only consistent communication with life, in general. Near as his Toxic Mom (yours truly) can sense, his Narcolepsy is the center of his universe. As I back off and remind myself a 38-year-old man is responsible for his own life, I have a nagging sense that we are playing with emotional dynamite allowing his Ex to be such an active part of our lives, even without the weekend jam session with his replacement.
By the time I retired from construction in 1995, I was pretty much okay with the phrase, "Non-Traditional Career." Somewhere along the way, I even grew a comfort zone with using the phrase, myself. "Non-Traditional Relationships" are definitely more frightening for me. Don't even bother sending me an invitation to your third wedding, much less listen to the non-traditional morphing.
Sorting. . .
Hubs and I are both guiltily excited about the jam session. The timing feels almost magical with the recent developments in our own musical meshings. I don't know that I have clear or non-toxic words for ^it^, but ^it^ feels right. Stepping small, praying big and letting God lead The Dance.
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I hope the jam session brings much enjoyment for you this weekend, Arfie.
As to “non traditional....,” those kind of terms become labels that often seem to cause more misunderstandings between others and myself than it’s worth. It’s only convenient when my brain hits a speed bump too quickly and I lose my ability to accurately articulate what I mean.
I’ve got more than enough of the eccentric, unique and bizarre in my life that often requires a lot of explaining (especially since we came stateside) that it now has become a choice between over explaining (and often going far over there limits to understand) or oversimplifing by just using the “non traditional” excuse.
I suppose with time we learn to work around the complications and cringes using certain terms that just only scratch the surface or are an easy way to keep noisy people from asking uncomfortable questions. Or so that’s my experience.
Hugs & love, Arfie.
In my strictly personal psychoses(pl), the phrase, "Non-Traditional" is a PTSD trigger. If my ifs are in alignment, the Kiddie Whorehouse clients of the 60's used it in some traumatically perverse context. Despite the psychotherapy progress, that remains a seasoning for ALL "Non-Traditional" debates, however hard I work to embrace the spirit of the current conversation. PTSD triggers are sneaky little devils with traditional quarrels of their own.
Works in progress. . .
For now, I am grateful the cool kitties have moved on to other names for ^it^. The debates are still going, but I don't hear or read the trigger phrase much these days. I still don't much like the debates, but that is simple preference. "Preference" and "PTSD Trigger" are decidedly different phenoms in my own psychobaggage car.
R&D consultant/contractor?
As for her personally ? Loosen up the knot on the apron strings ES keeps swinging on. You enjoy her company and energy on a level different than his.
I love live music and really miss it. I might enjoy it from my corner on the wind..
hugs J
At the moment we are encouraging her to be creative on how she puts it on her resume; to let her job title with us fit whatever job she might be applying for. She does a pretty broad spectrum of work for us.
Is it progress that I am getting pretty good at taking ES's closed door at knob value? Grunt, grunt back at you, my middle aged child.
I can't imagine life without live music. It's an easily verified fact that live and recorded music travel different frequencies. A two-year old banging on a piano reaches places in my psyche that the most technologically perfected and trained of recorded music simply cannot reach.