Fibro has never been about sacrificing spoons for me. Fibro doesn’t want my gross unwashed spoons, anyway. Fibro for me is a box of matches. One of those cute little ones; (Does anyone else really like little things? Tiny pots of jam and little boxes and… no? Okay, just me.) as a candle obsessive, I use a lot of matches, and I’ve noticed that they never burn quite the same. Some burn quickly, blackening the entire length and threaten to burn my fingers, others barely get off the starting block, fizzling out when struck. Fibro is the fire, my energy is a handful of matches. Not dissimilar from the spoon theory, but more evident when there’s a pile of blackened wood at the end of the day. Want to go to work? Strike. Want to go into town? Strike. Play video games? Strike? Have a bath? Strike.
It’s OKAY to be scared, afraid and upset now and then. It’s OKAY to have rocky periods and times where you’re afraid you might break up. It’s OKAY to cry, to feel your stomach drop to your feet and a gut punch when you see something you’re not used to or don’t expect.
There isn’t any reason for you to move within non-monogamy together. Instead of assuming you’re both on the same ship, moving through the same ocean, you should see it as one of you is going by boat and one of you is going by train. Check in with each other and make sure you’re okay, but don’t wait either by asking permission or trying to ‘slow’ things down for the other person.