Coming out of the (Poly) Closet

Back when I was learning to knit, I took on a particularly ambitious project, and before I could figure out the difference from a knit and purl stitch I attempted to make a kimono with leftover yarn my mother gave me from a baby-blanket project she gave up crocheting. Sitting at the porch, my friend P asked if she could do a row. She made a comment on my tension when she’d passed it back, and the next time we went to the store she bought me more yarn for my project. DSC_0710

On my birthday she would send me Amazon gift cards to feed my love of books. After I visited her home in Germany in 2012, she mailed me “The Little Prince”, a beautiful story she was stunned wasn’t an obligatory read in America.
As I work out my mistakes in my cable stitching I remember us sitting at my mother’s porch talking about how little I understood knitting. As I mourn my broken Kindle and consider my upcoming birthday, I remember the sweet, funny notes in the cards she sent me. I remember being treated like an independent woman during my conversations with her when I visited, having grown up conversations with the woman who watched me grow up.

It was the following spring that my mother and I had a falling out. I moved out of my mother’s and in with students I met in college. My relationship with the three of them was in the closet. I tried to play off that I just found some like-minded friends that would let me crash with them while I achieve my own independence. A lousy lie, but I aimed to tell the truth as soon as I could, once the shock of Charlotte being her own person wore off. DSC_0672

P’s parents were friends with my father, and met him through the military when he was stationed in Germany. When my parents divorced, they maintained friendship with my mother.

My mother was so fearful of my relationship with Alice, Bailey, and Edward that she confided in a mutual friend of ours, Chris, who suggested that she tell my father, who in turn made a scene, showing up at my house and trying to force his way in, demanding to see my bedroom, declaring he worked for the government (as if that gave him some sort of authority that overruled the laws governing trespassing).

When I confronted my mother about giving him my address is when she asked if I was polygamous. Figuring it was the easiest explanation, and because I hadn’t yet learned the word ‘polyfidelitous’, I said yes. “Disgusting,” was her response.

P has crossed my mind many times since then, but I never had the courage to write her, assuming my mother beat me to it, assigning inaccurate adjectives to my private matters. It’s been four years since I saw her, and almost as long since I wrote to her. There’s no point in trying to save a friendship if that means not keeping it, and with this in mind I wrote her this week. I gave a quick summary of the important events that took place, emphasizing on the spring of 2013 when I started my life again, and finishing with why I stopped talking to my mother and that I had since gotten married and had a child. I did not villainize my mother, though I justified my reasoning for temporarily cutting ties with her. I apologized to P for not writing sooner. DSC_0671

I can be so confident about my relationship, except when I am explaining the concept to someone for their first time hearing anything like it. Especially a friend who I consider close. I have lost so many friends to this, friends I thought I could trust, who I thought were open-minded and trusted my judgement.
Her first email had expired. It took me a long time to scrounge up her second email. It took her only until the next day to respond. I’m still not sure what to make of her reaction, but her response was polite and informative. She said that she was surprised by all I told her. So my mother hadn’t contacted her, after all! She also said that she would respond later, and though I have no idea how she took the part about being poly, her response to my marrying a woman was that it was great and nobody’s business but mine. Being in writing and with there being a cultural and language barrier, I can only guess at her inflections and tone and wait for her email.



Court cases are awful. Almost as uncomfortable as attending court is waiting to attend court. While waiting for the next step I try to boost morality with minor accomplishments to keep up my esteem. Lately I have been knitting up products for the Ladies’ Etsy shop, which lately is full of my products because I can whip stuff up relatively quickly, compared to Bailey’s products which are an investment in time and treasures. Just like writers don’t feel authorized to call themselves authors because they’re not published or famous, it can be hard to brag about a store that has made no sales, but it is a carefully maintained shop nonetheless, and so I will continue to pride in our little store.

In addition to stocking digital ‘display cases’ with arm warmers and such, I made a pair for each of the Girls for when they come home to visit.


Vancouver Fog


In the meantime, I research patterns by making products for myself that I’m not afraid of frogging so I can learn the investment in certain patterns, which birthed my Mermaid Gloves I’ve been wanting for literally years. So far I think this will be the only pair I make in this pattern, but maybe I’ll swoon once it’s actually finished.

Mermaid Gloves


I’ve made several pairs in Vancouver Fog because it’s a versatile pattern that works for many materials in a common weight, and I have memorized the pattern and haven’t tired of it quite yet.

I also adore the Traveling Cable Gloves, though because of the lighter weight they take longer to make compared to Vancouver Fog. They are more elaborate, and the yarn I have in sport weight is also higher quality, which makes up for the effort that goes into them and truly make them shine. I like this Swedish yarn that was purchased for me, made with a bamboo blend and in the color of classic bubble gum.

Traveling Cable Hand Warmers


I’ve been very blessed in that I pray for quality yarn and then will have large quantities given to me, which would make other yarnivores jealous. I’ve also found a set of knitting needles and DPNs for Gary, since he had asked me to teach him. I have also saved some acrylic yarn for him so I can teach him how to make a cable scarf or Seamus.