anarchist ovenbird The world has a ranking system for relationships. It goes like this: One romantic partner to whom you are, preferably, married. Immediate family (children and parents) Close platonic friends Extended family and community (neighbours and acquaintances) Professional networks The world would like me to operate within this system, putting appropriate emphasis on each relationship in my life, relegating “lower” connections to their rightful place, and prioritizing the ones at the top at the expense of those down the list. I am supposed to have a “primary” relationship. And that primary relationship is supposed to be with a romantic partner to whom I devote my life. Except, I am suddenly realizing, I have never worked like this. My relational structures have always felt more horizontal, with a number of close connections filling very different needs. I can not, for example, claim that my parents are less important to me than my partner, or that my closest friends are less essential to my well being and sense of self than my children. Or that my co-workers (who are very close and some of my greatest supporters) are less important than my other friends. I can’t even say that I love my human family more than my dog. I know I’m supposed to be able to say that, but if I’m being completely honest, I can’t. When my heart loves it does so in an expansive and encompassing way. Each connection that matters is deep and complex and foundational. The categories blur together so it’s very difficult to tease them apart. I have learned that feeling this way is “wrong.” I was supposed to get married and have that person become the pinnacle of my world. I was supposed to root my primary sense of self in the context of that relationship. I was supposed to find complete fulfillment there. But I find that marriage is only one shard of a large mirror, and I can only see pieces of myself in it. Other connections provide different perspectives and one reflection is not better or more foundational or more complete than the others. I find little value in shallow acquaintanceships and pursue deep connections with focus and intensity. Once forged, those connections become profoundly important and can not easily be ranked in terms of their primacy. Taken to the extreme this philosophy is called relationship anarchy. A term and a concept that fascinates me. What if there were literally no rules? What if each relationship could be custom built from the ground up in order to best meet the concurrent needs of each person? What if relational structure was horizontal and non-hierarchical so that each person was connected in a network of equally important, carefully crafted relationships that were not bound to societally prescribed frameworks that define “friend” vs “family” vs “romantic partner.” What if my dog meets my heart in a way that no human can do and, as such, I see him as deeply essential to my relational networks, and can’t say that my love for him is lesser? What then? What then is that I am deemed insane. What then is I hurt the people who believe they should be at the top of the relationship hierarchy. What then is that I find my heart is asked to perform contortions to align with what is deemed “right” and “acceptable.” My relationship with my parents is “too deep.” My connection to my dog is “unhealthy.” My need for time alone to engage with my own soul is “weird.” I am not sufficiently focused on my partner or children. I ask too much of my friendships, which I would like to be profound, but are supposed to be peripheral. I didn’t think about this much before. It’s a line of questioning that is coming up in the context of mid life transition. I’m not alone in my interrogation of our society’s embedded relationship pyramid, but most people adhere to it anyway, because there doesn’t seem to be an easy way to do otherwise. More and more I find that I don’t quite know how to exist in this world. It feels like badly fitting pants–too tight, too short, too itchy. I want to travel to all the deepest places, but so few people are willing to come with me. I want to know what’s underneath it all. And I don’t want to go alone. 260520 what's it to you? who go blather from