Happy Late Festivus bitches. I have some things to say to polyamorous men everywhere.
Okay, just the ones in Indiana. I don’t know if it’s better in other places, and I pray to the gods and goddesses of heterosexuality that it is. Hmm. Who are the gods and goddesses of heterosexuality? I’m inclined to say Cupid & Psyche, Adam & Eve, and Zeus & Hera as the initial grab bag–oh, okay I see the problem.
I don’t need to womansplain how lonely heterosexual polyamorous men are, but I do know how lonely they are, because they tell me all the time.
Continuing to state the obvious, a sapphic awakening is happening in the midwest. Maybe it’s nothing new, I just got here (to the midwest and my mid thirties). But I’ve been in the poly community since college. And I can say for a fact that adult bisexuals across the state are switching out their eels for clams. Even in Muncie. Even the ones with a Live, Laugh, Love tattoo on their lower back.
I know this will be a tough read for straight men, who are about as sensitive as the shower knob of my low-income apartment at 6AM. But times are getting dire. Over 90% of my poly male friends in their 30s and 40s are looking for women in their mid 20s because they can’t keep up with the rising standards of disappointed women. If heterosexual, polyamorous relationships are going to survive, straight men are going to have to evolve.
My demisexual, “relaxed-straight” husband agrees. “Men are physically attractive,” he once told me. “The only reason I’m not into them is because I need an emotional attachment to be interested in sex, and that’s not something most men can offer.”
So. From a jaded bisexual who has done her time and seen some shit, and from a teacher with a heart for people in need, here are four steps that you as a strong, independent, cis-het-poly man can take to begin to look like a viable option to women your own age.
It’s time to read another polyamory book.
Or…any relationship book. If it has words and it’s about feelings, it’s for you. Some of you never read your first one, and it shows. I’m looking at you, “smartest person I’ve ever met.” There is a plethora of digestible research about eroticism, kink, cohabitation, mental health, communication, and longevity. That shit matters in polyamory, because–and I cannot stress this enough–polyamory is about relationships.
Become a feminist.
Oh my god what? Your penis won’t fall off, I promise. You don’t have to pierce your septum or button your shirt all the way up. You don’t even have to agree with every point a woman makes. You just have to understand that a woman’s time and headspace are as valuable as your own. Which means you need to…
-Participate in the planning process. Schedule your scheduling. This is polyamory, sweetiekins. You can’t do it without planning.
-Remember things about her.
-Respond when she contacts you. It doesn't have to be “right this minute,” but that's a window of a few days, tops. Being busy does not account for a week or more of radio silence. Would you want her to ignore your text for 4 days? We have shit to do too, and it would be nice to know where you fall in that shit.
-Respect her feelings. If she apologies for having them, she’s testing you.
-Show pride in her accomplishments and intrigue in her hobbies. You know, like she does for you.
If you don’t want to be treated like a vending machine, don’t treat your partner like one. And before you argue that point (“...but I’d love a casual relationship that’s only based in sex!”), think about what happens when your time and headspace are not consistently taken into account (“I guess she’s not interested/too busy for me”).
Time and headspace are a part of sex, because they involve your physical, mental, and emotional presence. The way you attach during sex is part of a neural network whose foundations begin from your caregivers at the beginning of life, and continue through your friendships and emotional connections growing up. There is an abundance of research on attachment theory and how it manifests in our sexual lives. The phrase “only sex” makes me wonder if you understand what sex actually is.
Go back to therapy.
You’re not “done” simply because the panic attacks have stopped and you’re going to work regularly. There are layers of insecurity beneath those episodes you’ve had, and it’s time to find your solid ground. Women are human, and we’ll occasionally (accidentally) step on your triggers. We need you to employ the strategies that a professional has taught you so you can communicate your boundaries to us with grace. Which is, again, something that women have been doing for years and need you to meet us on.
Find the pattern.
Think about everything your previous, serious, compatible girlfriends have said to you when you started emotionally distancing yourself, which is about 3 months before those poor women finally cut ties. Find the pattern. I promise, it’s there, and it’s in the shape of a wound that you deserve to mend. Pretend your pattern is a pokemon, and that you have to hack it in order to capture it. It will take time, attention, and grace. You deserve these things.
If all this humaning is too hard, remember that sex work exists. Not everybody is cut out for polyamory, and there are lots of people who should not do it. If you are unable to participate in more than one real relationship, but you still find yourself itching for more different sex (which there is no shame in, we’re only human), vending machine sex costs about $300, depending on who you hire and what they offer. Paying for sex work will not emasculate you in the same way that paying for a doctor will not apostasize your physical health. It’s a service, like therapy or car maintenance or dermatology. Your identity is defined by you alone–not a collection of incels who don’t know what a clitoris is. Treat sex workers with the same respect and veneration you treat your car guy.
And…for the love of Jesus Christ’s holy sacrificial blood, never tell anyone that you truly believe you’re the smartest person you’ve ever met. I really can’t go into this further. I just…you have to trust me on this one.
