How To… Go Tell My Other Man

Oh but tell him what? We’ll get round to the various ins and outs of whoever the my other man might turn out to be in just a moment or two but let’s get straight regarding whatever it is you want him to know. Are you tattling on me? What on earth could you possibly have to say and why is it so utterly imperative that you have to tell him yourself? I’m sure it would be fine for you to entrust me with a message to pass on.

Anyhow, with multiple male relationships in my life (not in that way, don’t be so presumptuous) in my life by what metric should I sort them into main and other? In what is proving to be the most stupidly busy month of my existence so far, I’ll be going on holiday with my boys.

That group happens to consist of my partner (oh the cringe factor of describing him in such a fashion. If you want to stick a label on him – and why not, I’m sure he’ll love it – he’s my boyfriend but if I’d done that in the first place it wouldn’t have ended up eating so far into my word count. Cue evil, if slightly lazy, laugh), my dad and my brother. And for those keeping score, that’s three completely separate people.

But who on earth gets priority in that tangled web of connections? Is it the man who’s responsible for my existence in general, not to mention the co-funder of my upbringing? The older sibling who helped to shape most of my opinions and tastes (the liking for Buffy and all things Whedon-esque, for example, is all his fault. Not to mention 30 Rock, Farscape and an awful lot of the music I enjoy)? Or, you know, that guy I live with? Whatever your opinion, choose one of the other two and tell him anything you like.

Go tell my other man – Victoria Spivey

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