saturation & acrobatics
on taking on too much and being too lucky in love
as someone who has always resonated with the Plathian desire to experience all that the world has to offer and a romantic with weak boundaries, I have finally found myself teeming with intimacy in a way that may be too much. my mom believes that love is limitless— the heart can expand endlessly to accommodate more of it. I, too, have always advocated for an abundance mindset. I want to be made out of love1. lately, I am pushed to question the boundlessness of intimacy for the first time.
recently, I have perhaps reached my edge. rapidly expanding from one romantic partner to three has pushed me to question the boundlessness of intimacy for the first time. in january, my greatest strife was feeling insufficiently prioritized by my one married partner. a few weeks later, it is spreading myself too thin between these three sweet men and the rest of the loves of my life (my dear friends). this change feels anything but adiabatic— I didn’t have time to recalibrate and equilibriate to being in two relationships before the third sauntered into my life.
as I write this, I have barely survived a streak of three dates with three different people, three nights in a row. each one— a bike ride to the park + tacos for dinner with #2, a meet-the-bestie homemade soup night with #3, and sushi + a show with #1— was wonderfully fulfilling in its own right, but the combination has left me drained with little more to offer. in preparation for what I knew would be an emotionally intense week, I took a mental health day off from work on monday— redistributing my energy from my students to my lovers and friends. even with this attempt to balance my resources, I exhausted them by thursday.
all three men feature on my photobooth strip fridge gallery alongside some of my closest friends. in the strips with the men, we are turned toward each other, kissing, in nearly every frame. they look remarkably similar in profile— the black and white photos of #3 obscure his defining quality, while the framing makes it hard to deduce that #2 is a foot taller than #1. this week, each one made love to me in my home, day after day after day. I got tired of changing my sheets, so by the third night, we stayed on the couch. man #2 brought me a delicious treat from Scandinavia and carried my bike down the stairs, #3 arrived with a gorgeous bouquet and effortlessly got along with the most important person in my Chicago world, and #1 is consistently one of my favorite people to see live music with and to have physically near.
I view romantic connection like dessert— there is always room for it, no matter how satiated I feel (separate stomachs and all). it is simple: I am someone who loves people and sharing intimacy. I value every relationship in my life immensely. when I encounter a new person I admire, I want to hold them close forever, and it can feel hard to create any space. I never feel too full to accommodate more closeness, because each individual is so different. I adore discovering the specificity in how they tell stories to, touch, look at, and laugh with me. I feel special and gifted when I learn new quirks and hear descriptions of their other meaningful relationships and traumatic histories.
my friends and my mom have wondered how I could possibly balance three romantic relationships. and yet, in the three days of dates, I also dogsat for a dear friend, took a weightlifting class and a yoga class, biked over 50 miles, video chatted with two of my. most beloved humans, and taught 6 physics and astrophysics classes. my life is full: of movement and friendship, of commitments to my students and my family, and now of romantic intimacy, too.
I wasn’t looking for all of this— I have never been one to actively seek partnership, and certainly was not craving this much of it. but… when I run into someone I haven’t seen in 10 years at my favorite bar and the spark is immediate, I am also not one to abandon my curiosity. the prospect of love is tantalizing, and I need to explore it, especially when there is a good meet-cute. my mom said I need to drop someone, but try as I might to wring out the soaked rag that is my life these days, there are no drips.
early on friday morning, despite my exhaustion, I rose in the darkness to spend an hour marveling at the reddened moon. there she was, also saturated, but still there, shining. and there I was, on the porch, carving out alone time to experience the magic of the cosmos. and this is where I find myself, committed to performing a juggling act and walking the tightrope of a balanced life for as long as it works.
angel olsen— acrobat