It is not a “Closing”, it is an “Opening” – My Conscious Uncoupling Polyam Journey

“Never cut what can be untied.” — Jaclyn Smith

Life has a fascinating way of teaching us its most profound lessons through transitions. I recently was at a wellness retreat in the Azores, and I learned a word that only exists in Portuguese:

Saudade = Beautiful Sadness; deep nostalgic longing for something or someone that one loves and is now lost or far away; the love that remains after someone is gone…

I feel like I was needing that word my entire life to help me see the beauty in grief and loss (because the hole of loss would not be there if it were not for profound deep LOVE prior). Loss is something that we all inevitably feel at different points in our lives… such as moments in 2025 for me…

After 9.5 beautiful years together, including 8+ years of sharing a home with my husband and myself, my partner Rob and I recently chose to consciously uncouple. Notice I didn’t say “break up” – because this isn’t about breaking anything. It’s about thoughtfully transitioning a relationship into its next evolution.

When I was younger, breakups meant scorched earth – complete separation, often triggered by infidelity, wrapped in shame, and sealed with a vow to never speak again. But life has a way of showing us better paths when we’re ready to see them. Through my work coaching others in consensual non-monogamy, my clients actually introduced me to the concept of “Conscious Uncoupling” by Katherine Woodward Thomas. Little did I know that this book would become not just a resource for my clients, but a guide for my own journey.

After spending over 16 hours working through every exercise in the book (on top of reading the book itself), I’ve discovered something profound: endings can be beginnings in disguise. As Rumi said, “It looks like the end, it seems like a sunset, but in reality, it is a DAWN.”

Here’s what I’ve learned about being a Love Alchemist (yes, that’s a real thing!): We can choose to affirm the overall goodness of life and become agents of it. There is no greater love than this. It means viewing separation not as a failure, but as a family adventure – an opportunity for everyone involved to evolve into more suitable partnerships and life situations.

The Art of Conscious Completion

I’ve come to embrace what Ellen Goodman calls “the trick to the graceful exit.” It means leaving what’s over without denying its validity or its past importance in our lives. It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit is an entry, that we are moving UP, rather than out.

This led me to create new agreements aligned with the future I’m committed to creating:

• I will always treasure our precious time spent together as intimate partners.
• In some way, you will always be part of my extended family, as well as our shared history.
• I endeavor to be your friend.
• If you need me, I’ll be there (as you have done for me in the past).
• I will commit to being kind, gracious, and thoughtful in our communication.
  

Gratitude for Our Shared Journey

Love leaves its marks not just in memories, but in the thousand tiny ways another person shapes our world. For nearly a decade, Rob wove himself into the fabric of our home and lives with grace, kindness, and his uniquely wonderful way of being. While transitions can sometimes tempt us to paint the past in darker colors, I choose instead to illuminate the countless gifts our time together brought.

As I sit here reflecting, my heart swells with appreciation for all the ways Rob enriched our lives. From the practical to the profound, from the silly moments to the sacred ones, here’s my celebration of what his presence brought to our world, with my personal gratitude list:.

• greater appreciation for paddle-boarding, forefoot running, overall fitness, cycling, and more
• love for being outdoors, camping, exploring new areas
• discipline of all kinds (wow, can this guy be super disciplined! Very inspiring!)
• kindness of spirit (Rob would make me coffee every single morning, and prepare and pour my favorite martini, bring me flowers on random occasions, and other special kindnesses)
• an awakening of my attractiveness / sensuality / love of cos-play
• joy of finding and helping create a fellow Renaissance Festival geek
• newfound love of Mead wine and port wine
• opportunity to know my value, my worth, the difference I can make in another’s life
• better organization and efficiency of all kinds (throughout our home and general life stuff)
• how awesome having a fix-it handyman around for all things physical as well as IT-related is (Rob could just look at my computer and it would be so scared of him it would start working correctly)
• beautifying our home in big and small ways (eg. Big —> completely remodeling various sections of our home gorgeously; small —> ingenious ways to better organize our storage room and laundry area)
• so much more, too much to list.

Thank you, Rob! You have proven to be such a gem in so many ways! And I will forever be grateful.

The AHA Moment

Here’s the beautiful paradox I discovered, sitting cross-legged on my meditation cushion one morning: Sometimes the end of a relationship becomes the beginning of the most important love story of all – the one with yourself. I realized, with both tears and laughter, that it was time to give myself the love, attention, loyalty, and care I’d been seeking from others. There’s nowhere to go but home to myself, and surprisingly, it’s a pretty fantastic place to be.

I’m learning to carve depth and kindness into the core of who I am, surrendering to the sheer vulnerability of what it means to be human. And you know what? It’s exquisitely liberating. Those moments when you catch yourself in the mirror and think, “Hey there, beautiful soul, you’re doing just fine” – they’re pure gold.

I’m calling this phase “Romantic Rehab” (complete with concrete self-care practices and absolutely zero neglect). Think less “sad breakup movies and ice cream” (though there’s a time and place for those!) and more “rediscovering what makes your soul dance.” It’s about transforming what could be seen as trauma into what psychologists call “Post Traumatic Growth” – coming back changed for the better, transformed.

Some days, this means yoga at dawn. Other days, it means dancing in my kitchen to Taylor Swift while making coffee. Every day, it means choosing myself with the same dedication I once reserved for over-giving to others. As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.” Well, my sky is getting pretty sparkly these days.

My Commitment to Life and Love