I’ve Been Polyamorous for 3 Years. Here’s One Thing I Wish I'd Done Differently

In its simplest definition, polyamorous dating means dating one or more people in a variety of different capacities from casual to more serious connections. And I embarked on my polyamorous dating journey in 2022. But there are lots of variations of polyamory—like ethical non-monogamy or solo polyamory. So even though I am all for exploration, indulging in vices and trying things out for size, being so open-minded, ironically, made me feel trapped. Looking back, the one thing I wish I could’ve told myself three years ago as I shed the rules of monogamy is the need to create and enforce strong boundaries. Let me explain.

• Primary Partners: Partners who engage in polyamory who ultimately prioritize each other over other connections they might engage with. Essentially, your bae.
• Nesting Partners: Partners that choose to live together and/or merge certain parts of their lives like finances or grocery shopping.
• Metamors: Two people who share one or more of the same partners.
• Ethical Non-Monogamy: A relationship style usually engaged in by two or more people. The pair may (or may not) be primary partners, but they make ethical decisions when it comes to their other connections such as, but not limited to, transparency and honesty with one another in regards to the people they are seeing, the types of connections they have, getting tested regularly, etc.
• Solo Polyamory (or 'Solo Poly'): In its most basic terms, solo polyamory is prioritizing the relationship you have with yourself. You date without the intention of having a primary partner or if you do have a primary partner, you engage in polyamory separately from that partner. It is also possible that your primary partner may not engage in polyamory altogether.
• Connection: A more casual way to refer to someone you engage with romantically and/or sexually who isn't defined as a partner.

The way I entered polyamory was like a poorly executed cartwheel, wanting so desperately to stick the landing, but ultimately just fall in a directionless fumble. When I say that I encountered everything as a fledgling polyamor, I mean it. I went on dates with people who had primary partners, became entangled with people who had nesting partners, tried dating people who were looking for “casual,” unknowingly got roped into dynamics with someone who said they were looking for casual but didn’t really mean it, met metamors against my better judgement, became metamors with acquaintances, went on dates with people who knew each other (or even more commonly, had slept with each other)—the list goes on. Through this trial and error, I came to understand that sometimes being too open can lead to heartbreaks—including (and most importantly) my own.

Without any forethought on boundaries—like, say, that I didn’t necessarily want a primary partner and that wanted to prioritize myself over my romantic connections—I often found myself intertwined with people whose interests and end goals were fundamentally different from my own despite initial attraction and surface-level compatibility.

For example, though I had expressed my intention and insistence on engaging in solo polyamory without the need to escalate anyone to primary partner status, someone I became involved with had other ideas. When I met them, despite saying they understood my stance and were okay with dating me knowing that I was solo poly, when it came to the nitty gritty, their differing understanding of polyamory trumped my needs and desires. They ended up being adamant about the idea of needing a primary partner to engage in polyamory because that was the kind of polyamory they had been exposed to. And surprise, they wanted to be that primary partner even though I was against the idea. Cut to: confusion, uncertainty, pressure, guilt and regret. 

While there are certain things I couldn’t have known before embarking on this journey, like the balancing act of keeping my metamors and connections separate from one another, I think if I had just sat down with my thoughts and clearly wrote out my goals before diving into dating, that I could have protected myself from entanglements with people who were engaging in polyamory unethically and finding out pertinent information about connections after the fact. 

Even though I didn’t have a concrete plan entering into my poly lifestyle, I ended up needing to cultivate one as I gained a better discernment of what I was looking for. I knew I wanted the freedom to be able to venture into the varied depths of connection that solo poly dynamics provide. Investigating that curiosity was necessary for me, but having some semblance of a plan definitely would’ve made things whole lot easier. It was messy and complicated—something that my Virgo moon definitely holds against me—but does make me wish I was a bit more tactful in the beginning.

I wonder what would’ve happened had I waited a bit longer to really think about what polyamory looked like for me. Instead of diving headfirst into the sea, I wish I had wiggled my toes in the waves lapping up on the shore to get a taste of what was ahead. Perhaps I could’ve spent some time reading books like Polysecure or The Ethical Slut, but instead, I learned from firsthand experience what jumping in headfirst could look like and what ripples that might cause.

So, if you find yourself looking to try out a new relationship style, like ethical non-monogamy or polyamory, before you jump the gun and get too excited to embark on this new journey, take some time to think about what your goals are.