It’s Pride Month, and the debate often resurfaces or polyamorists: should cis-het polyamorists be allowed to march in Pride parades? After thoughtful reflection, this queer person says, yes. And here’s why. Pride has always been about more than identity, it’s about resistance. A rebellion against the policing of our bodies, desires, and freedoms. It began as an uprising against a state that criminalized queerness, gender nonconformity, and non-normative s*xuality. Pride is not just a celebration; it’s a refusal to comply with systems that try to dictate how we live and love. And monogamy, specifically, state-sanctioned, white, patriarchal monogamy—is a core part of that system. It’s the relational model the state most rewards and protects, and it’s no coincidence. Compulsory monogamy has been used to uphold inheritance systems, control women's bodies, erase queerness, and enforce racial hierarchies. To question that structure is deeply political—and deeply aligned with the spirit of Pride. Yes, there are valid concerns about cis-het people co-opting queer spaces. Those concerns deserve attention and accountability. But pushing back against normativity means embracing all who are challenging the rules, especially those challenging the sexual and relational norms that underpin white supremacy and heteropatriarchy. So, should cis-het poly folks be at Pride? If they’re showing up in solidarity, aware of their privilege, and committed to dismantling the systems that hurt us all, then yes. Because the goal isn’t a narrower gate. The goal is liberation. For all of us. 🔍 Looking for support on your polyamory journey? Book a 1:1 coaching session, grab tickets to our Intro to Polyamory from a Decolonizing Lens workshop, or explore deeper articles on Substack. Links in bio. a
Gender, Queerness & Sexuality
Non-monogamy and queerness have been tangled together for as long as either has had a name. Expect posts on how gender roles, bisexuality, asexuality, demisexuality, and kink move through polyamory, and how much of what gets called natural is really just well-rehearsed. Some are personal, some political, plenty both at once.
Non-monogamy has been more normalized in queer communities throughout modern history. In fact, the term "monogamish" comes from the work of Dan Savage, a gay man and sex educator who frequently advises heterosexual individuals. Queer people, often questioning sexual norms and having to create their own unconventional families due to social ostracization, have historically challenged compulsory monogamy. This is one reason why there is a higher proportion of individuals identifying as bisexual within polyamorist communities. Queer polyamory not only redefines relationship norms but also intersects significantly with social justice and far-left ideologies. This alignment arises from a shared commitment to challenging traditional power structures and advocating for marginalized voices. Queer communities, having long navigated the fringes of societal acceptance, inherently understand the importance of dismantling oppressive systems, be they related to sexuality, gender, or relationship models. Consequently, queer polyamory often embodies principles of radical inclusivity, equity, and conscious resistance to societal norms. It serves as a powerful expression of personal autonomy and collective liberation, aligning closely with broader movements for social change and the disruption of long-standing, rigid societal constructs. Next Events: 📆 The Art of Being a Hinge Workshop - April 19 (SOLD OUT) 📆 The Art of Being a Hinge Workshop - April 24 5:00pm PST / 8:00pm EDT / April 25 5:30am IST / 9:00am JST / 10:00am AEST / 2:00pm NZST
This is purely my own experience, everyone's relationship with intimacy is deeply personal and unique, shaped by who we are, our wiring, and the people we connect with. As someone who identifies as a demisexual I actually surprised myself a bit. I always assumed I'd always more drawn to words: deep conversations, verbal affirmations, poetic expressions of feeling,but what I've discovered is that physical presence means far more to me than I expected. There's something profoundly grounding and electric about simply being in the same space as him: sharing quiet moments, feeling the warmth of his body nearby, the comfort of parallel existence without needing constant talking. That embodied closeness builds the emotional safety and connection I need in a way that words alone rarely do. At the same time, I cherish my solitude more than ever these days. Time alone recharges me, lets me process, breathe, and stay true to myself, it's essential. But when I'm with him, that time feels different: richer, more alive. I don't just tolerate being around Nick; I genuinely look forward to it, crave it even. The contrast makes those shared moments stand out even more brightly. It's a beautiful kind of balance, honoring my need for solo-poly independence while discovering how much joy and depth can come from chosen togetherness. Intimacy, for me, isn't about grand gestures or nonstop intensity; it's often the quiet power of simply existing together, fully present. Curious if anyone who has been for some time in a long distance relationship seen their needs in their relationship shift over time?
Lavender marriages were originally survival strategies, most visible in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and especially during Hollywood’s Golden Age. In periods when homosexuality was criminalized, pathologized, and socially ruinous, gay men and lesbian women would sometimes marry each other to create a public façade of heterosexual respectability. In the United States, the studio system of the 1920s through 1950s often pressured actors into such arrangements to protect careers and avoid scandal under morality clauses and tabloid scrutiny. Beyond Hollywood, similar arrangements existed in many societies where marriage was tied to economic survival, family honor, or legal safety. These marriages could range from purely performative partnerships to deeply affectionate, companionate bonds built on mutual protection and trust. They’re making a quiet comeback today, especially among straight women and gay men who want lifelong partnership without a sexual component. I’ve also seen lavender marriages between polyamorous people. And with traditional values making a return through fascism, you’re seeing folks talk again about using lavender marriage as a way to avoid oppression.
They figured me out. It's true, signed big bisexual.
At eighteen, a rare aggressive strain of tuberculosis put me in surgery and then in bed for months. Frida Kahlo got me through it, proof that a chronically ill body didn't have to be one that stopped living fully. I'll be transparent about the language: Frida never publicly identified as bisexual, pansexual, or polyamorous, those frameworks weren't available to her the way they are now. What we have are historical records and scholarly inference: she had documented romantic and sexual relationships with both men and women, and Diego Rivera himself acknowledged some of her affairs with women. Historians have retrospectively described her as what we'd now call bisexual, but that's their label, not one she claimed. I use pansexual as a modern lens, not a historical fact. The same honesty applies to her relationship with Rivera. After they remarried in 1940, they structured their life around greater independence, separate finances, separate spaces, acknowledged latitude for outside relationships. That can look like non-monogamy/polyamory to a contemporary eye. Clips from Frida (2002) Directed by Julie Taymor
I just returned from a week in Mexico City with Nick, and it was amazing. The people were warm and generous everywhere we went, and every single day felt like a gift. This trip has been a dream of mine since I was 18, when I first discovered Frida Kahlo. Her way of living through chronic illness and physical pain was genuinely sustaining to me during my own recovery from tuberculosis and surgery. Plus she was bisexual and in an open marriage. Around the same time I also became deeply inspired by the Zapatista movement and its vision of indigenous anarchist self-determination. So to finally walk through some of these places that have lived in my imagination for so long, from Teotihuacan to Leon Trotsky’s final home and grave, was something I won’t easily find words for. Diego Rivera’s Anahuacalli was a particular revelation. It’s architecture has a weight and intention to it that stopped me in my tracks. The gastronomy was extraordinary throughout Mexico City, and honestly there was so much more I had hoped to see. Nick is still there and, given how many requests have come in, will be organizing a meetup for anyone in the city. More details to follow from him directly.
These threads are by my lovely friend @itsaravenewworld, and they got me wondering whether men/straight people in polyamory are more likely to lean toward hierarchical thinking. Honestly, I’ve seen all kinds of genders and orientations be just as likely to be hierarchical or egalitarian. Thoughts? Also in our upcoming workshop series, we’ll break down what hierarchy is (and what people often mistake it for), then we’ll move into practice: concrete ways to dismantle hierarchy in your polyamory so your relationships can become more equitable and genuinely consensual. Comment HIERARCHY When the event goes live in a few days, we’ll DM you the link.
Monogamy as a social system has been useful to patriarchy for a reason. When “one man, one woman” is treated like the default, it creates a world where men can be emotionally lazier and still be socially rewarded. If women are culturally trained to pair up, to “stick it out,” and to measure their worth through being chosen, then a lot of men don’t actually have to develop relational skills to keep access to partnership. That’s part of why feminist thought has opened space for things like polyamory, soloamory, and relationship anarchist frameworks. The problem is monogamous hangups like a possessive, low relational-EQ mindset can’t survive in polyamory for long. And a lot of men have been socially trained away from relational kills. They’re trained to avoid emotional introspection, to outsource communication, and to mistake dominance for leadership. So when they “transition” into polyamory, many don’t fail because polyamory is inherently unstable, they fail because they bring monogamy’s software into a relationship model that needs far more communication skills and accountability. That’s why I say polyamory can be good for gender equality: it raises the cost of patriarchal behavior. Polyamory doesn’t automatically make people feminist, but it can disrupt the patriarchal shortcut where men get partnership without emotional competence. It forces the question: are you actually capable of ethical relationship, or are you just used to being centered? Stitches with @amberakilla and @valmerzamusic on TT 🤝 Need polyamory support? Book a 1:1 coaching session or use our Relationship Agreement Generator to set boundaries for your polycule 🔗. Links in bio 👆✨
Monogamy culture has deep roots in this old idea that humans are “above” animals like having desires is something we’re supposed to rise above, not understand. In that worldview, attraction isn’t just a feeling, it’s a test. The body becomes suspicious. Lust becomes “temptation.” And being “good” means being able to hold it in. So monogamy stops being just a relationship structure and turns into a moral identity: proof you’re disciplined, pure, and committed to something “higher” than your impulses. And when people struggle with it, the story usually isn’t “maybe this setup doesn’t fit everyone.” It’s “humans are weak, but we should keep trying anyway.” That’s how monogamy stays culturally sacred, even when a lot of people don’t actually live it consistently. Because the point was never realism. The point was righteousness. And that whole “the body is dirty / desire is dangerous” storyline maps cleanly onto empire: controlling bodies is one of the oldest tools of governance. It’s not only European colonialism; any culture that builds and maintains empire tends to build rigid norms around lust, because regulating intimacy helps regulate inheritance, property, lineage, labor, and social order. You see it in who is allowed pleasure, who is punished for it, and how shame gets distributed along gendered lines women and femme people policed for “tempting,” men excused as “naturally” driven, queer and trans desire cast as threat, and everyone taught that freedom in love equals chaos. Body-shame isn’t just personal morality; it’s a political technology: if you can make people fear their own desire, you can make them easier to manage. 🔍 Need polyamory support? Book a 1:1 coaching session or use our Relationship Agreement Generator to set boundaries for your polycule. Links in bio.
We are never taught to limit ourselves to just one friend or to have only one child, yet when it comes to romantic relationships, society insists that we must choose only one partner at a time. That never made sense to me. And the reality is, this rigid structure doesn’t even function as intended—we see proof of this everywhere, from high infidelity rates to soaring divorce rates. Monogamy isn’t the default because it’s inherently superior; it’s a social construct designed to control women’s sexuality. A society that allows women the freedom to love as they choose is a society that challenges the foundations of property ownership and wealth hoarding. The enforcement of monogamy has always been about maintaining patriarchal and economic control—not about love, connection, or stability. I refuse to let capitalism dictate how I love. My heart will connect with whomever it desires, without arbitrary restraints. There is no justifiable reason to limit love—it is one of the most beautiful and expansive parts of being human. That’s why I am polyamorous.
Drop your questions for a hierarchical triad with D/s dynamics in the comments 👀🔥 We’ll pick a few to answer live, and yes, the replay’s going on the feed after.
Apologies in advance if this convo feels a little cishet, context matters. I'm genderfluid and non-binary, but because I read as a woman, I often get approached by straight men who assume I'm aligned with their worldview. That means I end up hearing a lot of binary, gender-essentialist takes on polyamory. This post isn’t me endorsing those views, it’s a retort to them. It’s me speaking back to the patterns I consistently see in cishet dating dynamics, especially when it comes to power and entitlement. This isn't about “all men” or “all women”, it’s about how patriarchy shapes relationship expectations, and how those patterns show up especially when non-monogamy is added to the mix. If it doesn’t resonate with your experience, that’s completely okay, we speak to many different audiences, and not every post will land for everyone.
I shared last year my dream of having six children three through birth and fostering three others at a time and it sparked a lot of opinions. Not surprisingly, many of those opinions came from men, particularly about my choice to have a child later in life. It’s telling how much society feels entitled to dictate women’s bodies and choices without research, thoughtfulness, or the understanding that there is no right way for women to live their lives. A decade ago, I asked for a 10 year IUD, but my male gynecologist essentially refused. It was a stark reminder of how often women’s autonomy over their bodies is undermined. It’s frustrating that we’re expected to conform to narrow expectations of when and how we should have children, as though our choices need to align with someone else’s timeline or vision. For me, the choice is clear. I’ve never wanted to be a young baby making machine. I’ve thought deeply about this, and I feel more at peace and in my prime now than ever before. If I were to have a child, it would be in my 40s. Younger me might have had the most fertile eggs, but I wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready. I’d rather face the sadness of potential infertility later than the regret of having kids before I was prepared. Our bodies are our own, and our choices deserve respect, not opinions or judgments. For me, this journey is about creating a life that feels intentional, meaningful, and true to who I am, not who society expects me to be. And I’m perfectly comfortable with that. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.
My latest polyamory book purchase is Polyamory Theology by Bryan Demeritte and Jeff Hood. I’ll review it soon, but I wanted to share it now because so many people come to me trying to reconcile their faith with being polyamorous. It’s a real struggle for a lot of folks, and resources can be hard to find. One thing I appreciate is that Bryan Femeritte has a PhD in theology with a concentration in polyamorous studies, which is rare and incredibly needed.
It's amazing when a woman, previously positioned as a "unicorn" within a hierarchical couple's dynamic, comes to realize her own worth and the inequity of her treatment in their polyamorous relationship. The awakening to her value as an individual, rather than a mere accessory to the couple's desires, marks a significant shift in her understanding of ethical non-monogamy. The practice of "unicorn hunting," where a couple seeks out a typically bisexual woman to form a triad while maintaining their own primary partnership status, is fraught with ethical concerns. It often objectifies the third party, reducing them to a means of fulfilling the couple's fantasies without considering their emotional and relational needs. This approach can create a power imbalance, where the "unicorn" is expected to conform to the rules and desires of the existing couple, leaving little room for her autonomy or growth within the relationship. Her role is frequently constrained and disposable, and her departure from the triad is expected to leave the primary couple's relationship unchallenged and unchanged. Furthermore, the issue is compounded in a hierarchical setting where the couple retains privileges and priorities over the third's needs. In such arrangements, the "unicorn" may find themselves in a precarious position, lacking the same level of commitment or security afforded to the original pair. This not only breeds a sense of inequality but can also lead to emotional distress and a feeling of disposability. Ethical polyamory advocates for all relationships within the network to be nurtured with fairness and respect, recognizing that each bond has its own intrinsic value.
My first doorway into decolonizing the mind was rejecting Christianity and the values it left behind in Kenya. The religion, especially through the Catholic Church, has been a vehicle of deep harm, particularly around sexuality. Christianity is one of the oldest engines of patriarchy. It begins with the idea that life comes from a man’s rib and not a woman's womb, and then builds a world where women never become prophets, or popes. Male supremacy is baked into the theology. And I genuinely don’t understand how the Catholic Church maintains this aura of authority. If its leaders speak directly to God, why do the doctrines keep changing. How can an all knowing and all good God be so inconsistent. Religious doctrine shifts because it is human made, political, and designed to protect power.
There’s so much more to safer sex in polyamory than what most of us were ever taught. Most of us grew up in sex-negative cultures where “education” stopped at STIs and the bare minimum on consent. But safer sex also means navigating disability, trauma histories, emotional safety, and power. Add polyamory to the mix and you’re negotiating complex agreements across different bodies, needs, and risk tolerances. Where do you even begin? I wanted to take all of that out of the shadows and give you the most comprehensive, accessible safer-sex guide for polyamorous people anywhere. It’s global, practical, decolonial, and written for real-world polycules.
Polyamorists respond to their partners’ sexual adventures with others in a variety of ways. Some might struggle with jealousy, while others experience compersion (happiness for your partner being happy with another person), and still others may feel ambivalent. Wherever you find yourself in this spectrum is okay. When it comes to sharing details about sexual encounters, it’s important to ensure that the people involved are comfortable with this sharing. As for myself, I’m demisexual, meaning I only have sex with people with whom I have an emotional connection. I don’t engage in casual hookups. However, I do enjoy hearing about the sexual adventures of my allosexual and megasexual partners. The bonus for me is that whatever new things they learn, I benefit from their expanded skillset. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.
It’s nice to break normatives as a non-binary, pansexual polyamorist😈 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.
