Any flavor or iteration of a kink lifestyle takes energy. If we’re on a power spectrum of some kind, or just like to dabble in various kinds of woo, we play with — and are sensitive to — energy itself. Throw ethical nonmonogamy or polyamory into that mix, then energy is moving multidimensional and complex ways. Those of us who look for transformational experiences in and through our kink and polyamory know the added effort required to maintain those relationships, and we know how it feels when the energy is off, unbalanced, or moving in ways that aren’t mutually fulfilling or uplifting. But I’m going to hazard a guess that energy becomes an issue for most of us when we feel depleted, or that some situation is seemingly “sucking our energy.”
The other day I was contemplating my own feelings of depletion, and gave myself some space to think about all the places that my energy was going. I thought about jobs, relationships (and the polyamorous dynamics therein), the state of the world, professional commitments, entries I wanted to write, classes we’re proposing to teach, etc., etc. I was envisioning my own energy as a flow that was getting pulled outward in various directions at various times, and, I’m ashamed to say, sometimes resenting the places it was ending up.
This was all brewing in the background for several days until, during one morning meditation, I had an epiphany:
Nothing was “pulling” my energy from me; I was choosing to put my energy in those situations. Where I decided to put my time and my effort was, essentially, my choice.
This is something that I always knew, on that theoretical level. I mean, I have had plenty of deep conversations with friends, partners, and clients about where their energy is going … but, well, the “physician” needed to heal himself, I suppose. I had been ignoring my own advice. But yes, I had to sit in the very real discomfort and embarrassment of realizing that this philosopher was asking the wrong question all along. I had been asking “Where is my energy going?” as if it’s somehow being passively sapped or pulled away.
I should have been asking: “To what am I choosing to give my energy?”
I like phrasing it this way because it takes into account the possibility that there are situations where we are compelled to invest our energy into specific things: A pipe bursts in our home; we or a loved one are hit with a sudden, serious illness. There are clearly things that require us to invest our time and energy or limit the choices we can make. Also, the current political climate, for those in LGBTQIA+ and BIPOC communities poses an existential threat which tragically requires constant hypervigilance. Those members of our birth and chosen families are perpetually dogged by situations that require deep and painful choices. This can wear people down in insidious and soul-crushing ways.
Each of us, depending on our particular circumstances, privilege, intersectionality, and/or positionality, have choices to make and varying degrees of space in and through which to make them. Even when it feels like we don’t have a choice, we are still choosing to act in a particular way.
But in the less urgent interpersonal or logistical situations, like when we’re getting a migraine looking at the intricate interplay of jealousy and compersion in our polycule, or wondering why our authority exchange seems to be taking all our spoons instead of replenishing them, we can take a moment to mindfully ask what am I giving my energy to? This is the first step to regaining a little agency.1
In most situations when we feel like our energy is being drained, if we’re brutally honest with ourselves, and don’t mind sitting in a little discomfort, we can see that the energy we think is being pulled or drained from us is actually being given away.
If you’re dubious, that’s understandable. I know I was. But let’s think of this positively. In a D/s or M/s relationship, for example, regardless of where we may be on the power spectrum, we are freely — and often enthusiastically — giving our energy (some would say “power,” but that’s slightly different) to the dynamic itself and/or the other person(s). In those moments, it’s more like an investment, because we know that our energy is doing something good, and that it’s mutually beneficial. And lest we think of it as transactional, remember the feeling of joy that happens when we give of ourselves simply out of compassion or love. Much like compersion in polyamory, we can find joy in the joy of others. We get a higher satisfaction.
In my own authority-based relationship, my slave and I give our energy to the dynamic as a means to mutually lift the relationship and ourselves. We want each other to shine, to excel, and to walk authentically in our own power.
I know many D-types who feel a sense of deep fulfilment when their s-types are thriving and taken care of; or when they are reaching their potential. Concurrently, s-types often feel a sense of deep joy and fulfilment when they know that they are serving their purpose by meaningfully serving (or worshiping, or caring for) their D-types. There is a specific kind of mutual elevation, transformation, or transcendance that occurs.
But if our energy is going toward constantly trying to put out a tire-fire that our partner(s) have themselves started (and onto which they are perpetually pouring gasoline), it can and will feel draining. If the majority of a person’s effort is going toward making sure that a partner isn’t doing something to hurt themselves, or is just hell-bent on self-destruction, then things can get really difficult, really fast, regardless of what side of the slash we’re on. If we’re constantly having to solve a partner’s problems, or process their emotions for them, we can find ourselves nonconsensually sliding toward codependency.
And it’s so hard to see while it’s happening. But we can feel it.
Of course, one person’s tire fire is another person’s authority exchange. One person’s pygmalion complex is another person’s DD/lg dynamic. But we have a better shot at trying to protect, grow, and cultivate our energy, power exchange, relationships, and/or kink dynamics when we take responsibility for our energy, asking ourselves, honestly, and without judgement, “what (or who) am I giving my energy to?”
Let’s take a less intense, but strangely more disturbing example to help bring this home: think about doomscrolling. The algorithm is designed to pull our attention (it actually really is, social media algorithms are actually based on the same algorithms that govern slot-machine technology). They are designed to be addictive. However, sometimes we can flip the script by looking at our phones or streams and asking ourselves “what am I giving my energy — my precious executive functioning — to?” That IS NOT the cure for an actual addiction, but it can be the question that leads us toward seeking help.
Just a word of warning: being brutally honest and courageously asking that question of ourselves can be a gut-punch, and it can cause all kinds of guilt, regret, and self-flagellation (and not the fun kind), but — and I want everyone to read this very carefully … The important part is that we woke up in the first place.
Because if we do have the wherewithal to ask what we’re giving our energy to, we’ve chosen to do a very, very brave thing.
There are energy vampires out there who actively pull people’s energy … they are rare but very real. Perhaps I’ll write about that in another entry.