I very rarely get jealous. When I do, it’s not for reasons that most of America gets jealous. I’ve watched my wife with her first bull. Sexually. And flirting, conversation, these personal intimate moments that would drive most people crazy. But for me there’s very little.
When we first started swinging, the first time I saw her with someone else, it struck me how not jealous I was. That concerned me for a tic. Why aren’t I jealous? What’s wrong with this situation? (Luckily I didn’t dwell on this long, as a certain beautiful curly haired girl was vying for my attention…) It came back to me later, as I sat in the aftermath, thinking about the evening, our first evening in a brave new world. This question, why wasn’t I jealous, and what did that mean?
Why does it have to mean anything? My lack of jealousy was not a commentary on my relationship and the quality inherent (or lack thereof) in it. It just was. Then, a month after we joined the interracial lifestyle full fledged, at a party, Marilyn got all sorts of attention and I got none. The jealousy came in waves. Sweet blind rage jealousy. The “get your stuff, we’re leaving” kind. The silent treatment in the car kind. Oh yes, jealousy, there you were. I wasn’t broken. I did have feelings, I did care, clearly. But, aha, this jealousy wasn’t about that, it was petty, childish…this was because Cooper didn’t have fun, and Marilyn did.
So I thought about that a good deal. What she did. Who she was with. Neither of these things bothered me. In the least. So this was the night I began to realize how high my trust level with her was. I began to realize that trust is like an antidote. Trust and confidence. As I began to become more confident in myself, my sexual abilities, my emotional availability. I began to be less and less concerned about these things that might “make one jealous.”
Since then, I really haven’t felt it. The jealousy. An occasional pang here and there perhaps. Marilyn and I do things that many swingers don’t, as well. We’ve gone on separate dates with her bull. We have no issue with separate rooms. We have a comfort level that I still marvel at and am impressed with myself. This isn’t about bragging here, it’s because I really have come to believe that jealousy can be moderated, muted. It’s not about repression either.
I’m not suggesting that if you feel jealous you should bury that deep down inside, or grin and bare it. That would be like packing down the black powder. It may be more compact and less noticeable, but eventually that spark’s gonna set it off. (May not be a thing…don’t know anything about black powder ‘cept what they’ve done on Mythbusters.) What I think you can do, though, is when feeling that pang of jealousy, recognize that’s what it is. Once you do that, you can analyze it. That’s the hard part, of course. Pulling the handbrake on that surge of emotion and saying “what the fuck?” But that’s where it really is. It’s the exercise burn. You gotta get there to move beyond.
Because once it’s recognized, and you look deep down at it…well, I realized it was just leftover from high school and being left out. And that’s silly, isn’t it? I mean it’s a real emotion, and it’s something I felt, but I didn’t have to allow it. I didn’t have to go with it. At the last minute, instead, I made a sharp left turn and used that moment as a springboard for a discussion of our rules as a couple, something that was patently necessary. But the best thing about this recognition moment, is that you can decide what to do with it.
The less oxygen it gets, the smaller and smaller it gets, until it’s nothing more than a wick. And unlike those other emotions we’ve been taught to repress, killing the spark of jealousy won’t make us dead inside. No, jealousy only becomes the beginning of the problem, or the catalyst, or the deciding factor in an issue that you clearly should sit and think on a bit, wait for calmer heads to prevail.
‘Cuz maybe, just maybe, it isn’t as bad as you thought. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe, after all, you trust your partner completely. That she won’t run off with that guy she was flirting with at the bar, that she won’t suddenly feel that sex with you isn’t as good as sex with others. It’s trust, it’s confidence…it’s the road to compassion.
Cooper