By Vikki Bee, Staff Writer, Emerson College
I knew that I was polyamorous from the time when I first learned that polyamory was a real thing, but it wasn't until I started dating my current boyfriend that I really felt like it. It's more difficult for me to be certain about my polyamorous identity than it is to be certain about, say, my bisexual identity. Even if I've never dated a woman, I know I like women and I know that I am fully capable of dating a woman. Without being in a committed relationship with someone who has other committed relationships, and without being in more than one relationship myself, I still had that gnawing fear in the back of my head that I'll wake up one morning and realize that I can't handle poly after all. Even now that I am “practicing” polyamory, so to speak, I still have that gnawing fear some days.
I started my immersion in the polyamorous lifestyle when I entered the local kinky community, where practically every other person is some flavor of non-monogamous. That's where I met first J and then A. I became, at first, closer friends with A than with J, and A and I started our sexual relationship before J and I really started doing anything. Around then, J started inviting me to his kinky parties more, and we became involved a little while later. Even though A and I aren't in a romantic relationship, this is still the first time I've started dating someone while still sleeping with someone else. Now, when I go to J's parties, I give both him and A a kiss hello and a kiss goodbye.
The thing about polyamorous communities, and especially polyamorous kinky communities, is that after a while they start to feel a little incestuous. J hosts a lot of kinky parties at the apartment where he lives with one of his girlfriends. A and his girlfriend go to J's parties. A has played (in the kinky, sexual sense) with one of J's girlfriends, and J plays with A's girlfriend sometimes as well. J's girlfriend's boyfriend and his wife come to these parties as well. It goes on, and I stopped trying to keep track of all the romantic and sexual connections between these people halfway through the first party I attended.
What I've learned from being around all the poly folk is that, as far as I can tell, most people first become interested in it because they feel like they themselves are able to love more than one person at a time. When I started identifying as poly, that was my reason. I could see myself have boyfriends and girlfriends, play partners and friends with benefits, occasional hookups as well as life partnerships with as many people as would open their hearts to me back. What comes later is feeling comfortable—or even happy—about your partners' other partners. Polyamorous people call that compersion.
Compersion is when I'm lying with my boyfriend, J, in his bed and we hear his other girlfriend in the other room, having a vocal good time with her partner, and J smiles and comments that they're probably using the Hitachi. Compersion is when I tell J that I have plans with A, this week, and he tells me to make sure I show him a good time. Compersion is when A's girlfriend gets a new boyfriend and he's incredibly happy for her. Compersion is often called the opposite of jealousy, and those who experience it find polyamory all the more rewarding.
I've never really experienced compersion, but I've come to accept that that doesn't mean I'm not polyamorous.
Both of the men I'm involved with are extremely comfortable with themselves and their poly identities. J, in particular, calls himself “disgustingly poly.” According to him, his jealousy button is broken. He feels a lot of compersion. He gives his live-in girlfriend a high-five after she has sex with other people. A was thrilled after the first time his girlfriend and J played, and he tells me all the time how much he loves poly. To be fair, they're much older than I am—I'm just turning twenty, whereas J is twenty-nine and A is twenty-six. They've had a lot more time to figure their stuff out, but being involved with me means they both have to be patient with my inexperience. They're extremely good about it, and I feel lucky for having such positive experiences this early into my new lifestyle.
I knew that I was polyamorous from the time when I first learned that polyamory was a real thing, but it wasn't until I started dating my current boyfriend that I really felt like it. It's more difficult for me to be certain about my polyamorous identity than it is to be certain about, say, my bisexual identity. Even if I've never dated a woman, I know I like women and I know that I am fully capable of dating a woman. Without being in a committed relationship with someone who has other committed relationships, and without being in more than one relationship myself, I still had that gnawing fear in the back of my head that I'll wake up one morning and realize that I can't handle poly after all. Even now that I am “practicing” polyamory, so to speak, I still have that gnawing fear some days.
I started my immersion in the polyamorous lifestyle when I entered the local kinky community, where practically every other person is some flavor of non-monogamous. That's where I met first J and then A. I became, at first, closer friends with A than with J, and A and I started our sexual relationship before J and I really started doing anything. Around then, J started inviting me to his kinky parties more, and we became involved a little while later. Even though A and I aren't in a romantic relationship, this is still the first time I've started dating someone while still sleeping with someone else. Now, when I go to J's parties, I give both him and A a kiss hello and a kiss goodbye.
The thing about polyamorous communities, and especially polyamorous kinky communities, is that after a while they start to feel a little incestuous. J hosts a lot of kinky parties at the apartment where he lives with one of his girlfriends. A and his girlfriend go to J's parties. A has played (in the kinky, sexual sense) with one of J's girlfriends, and J plays with A's girlfriend sometimes as well. J's girlfriend's boyfriend and his wife come to these parties as well. It goes on, and I stopped trying to keep track of all the romantic and sexual connections between these people halfway through the first party I attended.
What I've learned from being around all the poly folk is that, as far as I can tell, most people first become interested in it because they feel like they themselves are able to love more than one person at a time. When I started identifying as poly, that was my reason. I could see myself have boyfriends and girlfriends, play partners and friends with benefits, occasional hookups as well as life partnerships with as many people as would open their hearts to me back. What comes later is feeling comfortable—or even happy—about your partners' other partners. Polyamorous people call that compersion.
Compersion is when I'm lying with my boyfriend, J, in his bed and we hear his other girlfriend in the other room, having a vocal good time with her partner, and J smiles and comments that they're probably using the Hitachi. Compersion is when I tell J that I have plans with A, this week, and he tells me to make sure I show him a good time. Compersion is when A's girlfriend gets a new boyfriend and he's incredibly happy for her. Compersion is often called the opposite of jealousy, and those who experience it find polyamory all the more rewarding.
I've never really experienced compersion, but I've come to accept that that doesn't mean I'm not polyamorous.
Both of the men I'm involved with are extremely comfortable with themselves and their poly identities. J, in particular, calls himself “disgustingly poly.” According to him, his jealousy button is broken. He feels a lot of compersion. He gives his live-in girlfriend a high-five after she has sex with other people. A was thrilled after the first time his girlfriend and J played, and he tells me all the time how much he loves poly. To be fair, they're much older than I am—I'm just turning twenty, whereas J is twenty-nine and A is twenty-six. They've had a lot more time to figure their stuff out, but being involved with me means they both have to be patient with my inexperience. They're extremely good about it, and I feel lucky for having such positive experiences this early into my new lifestyle.
Because my relationship with J is my only romantic one at the moment, I'm going to talk about him a little more. My relationship with J has been, thus far, an incredible learning experience. I've learned that I don't get nervous when I come over to see him and his girlfriend answers the door. I've learned that it doesn't make me jealous to see him kissing and flirting with other people at his parties. I've learned that my relationship with him is comfortable when I see him once a week and he texts me every day. I've learned that it was good for me to become involved with someone with so many other partners before entering other committed relationships myself. He's an incredible boyfriend, but he's also an incredible role model.
I've learned, as well, that being poly actually makes me feel more secure in my life. Poly folks seem to be very good at creating relationships that work for both parties; the expectation to be everything to everyone can't and doesn't exist. Being in a relationship with J doesn't mean my sex life and love life outside of him have to end, and being independent in that area of life means I feel more independent in all parts of my life. I feel a little more comfortable in my own skin.
I've learned that I can handle it when I do feel insecure. I've learned that it's possible to tell the difference between insecurity that comes from real problems within a relationship and insecurity that comes from my own issues, and I've learned that I can talk to my partner(s) about either kind. I've learned that I can feel jealous of my boyfriend's closeness with his other girlfriends without it ruining my day. He pays me plenty of attention and makes me smile, and our relationship works great, and I've come to accept that the jealousy I feel is like a growing pain and I'll get over it without a hitch. This, like much of what I've learned, has come as a surprise to me. I expected it to be much harder than this. The ways that I surprise myself have become, in a way, my barometer for my identity. I know I'm poly because it doesn't bother me, for the most part, to date someone who is dating other people, or to sleep with someone who is sleeping with other people. Even if I don't feel compersion, I don't feel jealousy, either.
The biggest thing that I've learned is that polyamory is all about learning what works and what doesn't work. There's no manual. There are no social norms to follow or clear-cut etiquette. Once you open yourself up to relationships outside of monogamy, you're charged with figuring out what that looks like for you. For me, right now, polyamory looks like my romantic relationship with J, my sexual friendship with A, and my openness to other encounters without strictly needing them to happen. For J, polyamory looks like three girlfriends loosely prioritized based on seniority, plus a few play partners, and counting. For A, polyamory looks like one girlfriend, a few casual sexual relationships, and an active search for more romantic partners. The scariest thing about being poly is having to be enough of an adult to figure out your own needs and desires for yourself. Personally, I'm still working that part out.
Vikki B. is the kind of awesome person you totally want to have at parties. She's a pole-dancing, hoop-spinning, cloud-staring writing machine who won't take shit from any of the creepy dudes in Allston, but who still won't post her full name for fear of Conservative Russian Dad Googling her. When she's not doing this, she works at her local sex shop and extols the virtues of cold-brew iced tea.
Images: pncminnesota.com, KimchiCuddles.com
I've learned, as well, that being poly actually makes me feel more secure in my life. Poly folks seem to be very good at creating relationships that work for both parties; the expectation to be everything to everyone can't and doesn't exist. Being in a relationship with J doesn't mean my sex life and love life outside of him have to end, and being independent in that area of life means I feel more independent in all parts of my life. I feel a little more comfortable in my own skin.
I've learned that I can handle it when I do feel insecure. I've learned that it's possible to tell the difference between insecurity that comes from real problems within a relationship and insecurity that comes from my own issues, and I've learned that I can talk to my partner(s) about either kind. I've learned that I can feel jealous of my boyfriend's closeness with his other girlfriends without it ruining my day. He pays me plenty of attention and makes me smile, and our relationship works great, and I've come to accept that the jealousy I feel is like a growing pain and I'll get over it without a hitch. This, like much of what I've learned, has come as a surprise to me. I expected it to be much harder than this. The ways that I surprise myself have become, in a way, my barometer for my identity. I know I'm poly because it doesn't bother me, for the most part, to date someone who is dating other people, or to sleep with someone who is sleeping with other people. Even if I don't feel compersion, I don't feel jealousy, either.
The biggest thing that I've learned is that polyamory is all about learning what works and what doesn't work. There's no manual. There are no social norms to follow or clear-cut etiquette. Once you open yourself up to relationships outside of monogamy, you're charged with figuring out what that looks like for you. For me, right now, polyamory looks like my romantic relationship with J, my sexual friendship with A, and my openness to other encounters without strictly needing them to happen. For J, polyamory looks like three girlfriends loosely prioritized based on seniority, plus a few play partners, and counting. For A, polyamory looks like one girlfriend, a few casual sexual relationships, and an active search for more romantic partners. The scariest thing about being poly is having to be enough of an adult to figure out your own needs and desires for yourself. Personally, I'm still working that part out.
Vikki B. is the kind of awesome person you totally want to have at parties. She's a pole-dancing, hoop-spinning, cloud-staring writing machine who won't take shit from any of the creepy dudes in Allston, but who still won't post her full name for fear of Conservative Russian Dad Googling her. When she's not doing this, she works at her local sex shop and extols the virtues of cold-brew iced tea.
Images: pncminnesota.com, KimchiCuddles.com