Solo Polyamory

There are many ways to be polyamorous. From solo poly, to triads, to large polycules, to being single, polyamory simply means you can love multiple people. How that looks in practice can vary a lot. Except hierarchy and unicorn hunting, because then the Office of Poly Affairs may deny your registration. Next Event 📆 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

I exist in two extremes. I’m solo poly, which means I practice polyamory while keeping my independence at the center of my life. I have partners and meaningful relationships, but I don’t structure my life around merging households, finances, or building a single shared domestic unit. I genuinely love living alone and don’t want to share my home with anyone. I need long stretches of solitude the way other people need air. It's a time to reset, think, and exist in my own rhythm. Being neurodivergent plays into that too; having my own space helps me regulate and stay grounded. But with my partners I’m intensely present: affectionate, attentive, all over them, completely absorbed in the connection we’re sharing. There’s no half-setting for me. I move between deep independence and deep presence. The solitude is what allows me to show up that way when I’m with someone. So for me there’s no contradiction in loving my independence while also loving people deeply, I just experience those two states very distinctly. Looking for polyamory support? Book a 1:1 coaching session today let’s build the skills to support you and your partners with confidence. Use our Relationship Agreement Generator to set boundaries and agreements for your polycule. Links in bio.

“Polysingle” refers to when a polyamorous person has only one partner or none at all. A polyamorist’s identity is still completely valid in this situation, though some people mistakenly believe that being polyamorous requires having multiple partners at once. However, no one tells a monogamist they aren’t truly monogamous if they’re single.

I actually think the most beautiful part of polyamory isn’t having multiple partners, but having the freedom to be an individual and not follow a social script around connection. You’re not forced to center your romantic partner and forfeit all the other meaningful connections and aspects that make you who you are. In many traditional monogamous relationships, codependency often becomes an integral part of the dynamic. There’s an implicit expectation that your romantic partner should meet all your emotional, social, and even practical needs—a “one-size-fits-all” approach that can stifle individuality. In contrast, polyamory leans toward interdependence, a healthier and more balanced dynamic where partners support one another while maintaining their own autonomy. In polyamory culture, it’s not only acceptable but encouraged to cultivate a other connections, both romantic and platonic, to meet different needs and grow as a person. In polyamory, you can show up authentically, build deep, meaningful connections with others, and prioritize community and personal growth. It’s about allowing relationships to evolve naturally, free from rigid societal expectations, while embracing the richness of who you are and who you’re becoming. By fostering interdependence rather than codependency, polyamory creates space for relationships that are rooted in mutual respect, collaboration, and a deep appreciation for each individual’s unique journey.

Surprise, I’ve been wandering through Vancouver this past week. One of the gifts of polyamory is you have to disamntle codependency which allows for solo travel. Solo travel to me has never been lonely because it feels like coming home to myself. It’s a beautiful thing to know I can drift between the people I love across the world, and that if I cross paths with someone new, I’m free to meet that connection with an open heart. This life is a long, unfolding journey toward who we’re meant to become, and without the script and cage of compulsory monogamy, we finally have the room to breathe into that. When we step outside those inherited walls, we get to meet ourselves with more honesty, more grace, and more possibility. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.

💭 Have you ever de-escalated a relationship? How did it go for you? Share in the comments below ⬇️ We’ve been together for 15 years now, and we happily denested last December. It’s been one of the healthiest shifts we’ve made, a reminder that change doesn’t have to mean loss. We live in a duplex : Nick on one floor, Millie on another, each with complete units of our own (though Nick still raids Millie’s fridge). It gives us the closeness of being nearby without smothering each other under the conditioning of compulsory monogamy, which insists that romantic partners must always live jointly. We value preserving connection in the forms that feel most liberating. For Millie, denesting has also been part of living into their solo poly dreams, expanding space for themself while still holding onto the care and intimacy we share. After 15 years, that kind of balance feels like a real gift. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.

Denesting has been amazing, we don’t share a bedroom anymore, and each have our own units in the duplex. It’s been great to have the freedom to bring partners over without having to plan around each other. But I just realized one of the bedrooms upstairs sits directly above my study, and it hadn’t really been used till now. 🫠 Might be time to invest in some serious soundproofing. It’s not that it bothers me emotionally, it’s just… hard to concentrate on emails when my imagination keeps supplementing the soundtrack of my partners’ shenanigans. Another day, another episode in the poly life. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.

All that really matters to me is that my core needs are met. For me, that looks like seeing my partner a few times a week and knowing we’re both keeping to our safer s*x agreements. Beyond that, I genuinely don’t care who they’re with or what they’re doing when we’re not together. Compulsory monogamy culture, though, insists on a strange kind of possessiveness. It normalizes the idea that partners should constantly fill their minds with each other when apart, and that “real love” means monopolizing every ounce of time and attention. That expectation isn’t about care it’s about control. This culture treats love as if it’s a scarce resource to be hoarded, rather than an abundant capacity that expands through connection. The insistence on limiting partners’ freedom to love or experience others doesn’t actually protect relationships; it shrinks them, reducing love to ownership and obligation instead of trust and choice. I want my partner to explore love and intimacy in all the ways that fulfill them. I want them to have the freedom to enjoy other connections, to learn and grow from those experiences, and to soak up as much joy as possible. Love isn’t a scarce resource. Why deprive them of that abundance, just to cling to a sense of control? For me, the richness of polyamory is knowing that they can follow their heart’s content elsewhere, and still choose to come back and share their life with me. 🔍 Navigating polyamory or feeling stretched in your relationships? 💖 Need help setting boundaries or clarifying expectations in your polycule? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator—also in bio.

People often assume that moving from cohabiting to living separately means something is “wrong” in a relationship, but for us, it’s been the opposite. After 15 years together, we can’t imagine doing life without each other—but we’ve also learned that loving someone deeply doesn’t mean we have to follow the standard script. Polyamory and de-escalating from nesting haven’t diminished our bond; they’ve actually helped us keep our connection alive in new ways. Esther Perel talks about how desire thrives not on closeness alone, but on distance and curiosity, the very things that can fade when routine and familiarity set in. We wanted to break out of autopilot and reintroduce a sense of freshness into our relationship, and living apart gave us exactly that. In Mating in Captivity, Perel explains that eroticism is rooted in the tension between closeness and separateness. When we know every detail of a partner’s day, mystery disappears, and with it, the charge that fuels passion. Neuroscientific studies back this up: dopamine, the neurotransmitter linked to desire, spikes in moments of novelty and unpredictability. Living separately reintroduces those conditions, it creates space for anticipation, for missing each other, and for rediscovering new facets of who we are. We find ourselves wanting to learn about each other all over again, not because we’ve grown apart, but because we’ve built just enough distance to spark that sense of intrigue that Perel says is essential to long-term chemistry. 💖 Want more clarity in your connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator, also in the bio.

I’ve only been in one long, exclusive relationship, and honestly, it was exhausting trying on monogamy. It felt like babysitting an adult, constantly managing their needs and expectations because, as their partner, I was “supposed” to be their everything. But the truth is, it takes a village to meet a person’s needs. Colonial capitalism stripped us of that village, breaking community apart and shrinking care into isolated nuclear units. Now we expect one person to bear the impossible weight of being the one—your lover, best friend, co-parent, emotional regulator, and source of fulfillment. It’s crushing for everyone involved. I believe in the Indigenous philosophy that we’re here to self-actualize. Polyamory supports that by freeing us from the illusion that anyone has to be “everything” for someone else. Instead, we get to focus on authentic connections, letting each relationship be what it truly is, without the pressure of totality. And when we remove that burden, we can all redirect that energy into developing ourselves, our passions, our purpose, our sense of community, rather than collapsing under the weight of someone else’s unmet needs. Polyamory gives us space to show up as whole people, not fragments trying to complete one another. 💖 Want more clarity connections? Try our Relationship Agreement Generator—also in the bio.

I really love it here. Practicing solo polyamory finally and no longer being nested has been such a liberating shift. When you’re cohabiting, there are always shared agreements to consider around the home. You can’t just bring someone over if your partner isn’t comfortable with it. It’s their space too. And if you’re sharing a one-bedroom? It gets even trickier. You might not be able to use your own bed when connecting with another partner, even if you’re both okay with it emotionally, logistically, the space just doesn’t allow for that kind of freedom. Living solo has opened up a different kind of autonomy. I get to move on my own terms, and create a space that’s fully mine.

Just giving y’all a little update on denesting, since so many of you have been asking me to share more of that journey. It’s going well, but wow, I’m really learning what it means to be independent after nearly 15 years of living with a partner. And not just any partner, a very handy one at that. I’m deeply committed to solo polyamory, but I totally get how folks can become paralyzed by the safety net that nesting offers, even when living solo might actually be the healthier or freer choice. Like I’ve always said: the nuclear family was never built to replace the village. But damn, it makes for a cozy crutch—especially when you’re suddenly faced with stuff outside your skill set. One thing about me? If I’m in distress, I say something. Loudly. And because I’m vocal, I often find solutions quickly, because I have community. I was venting about not knowing how to fix basic things around the house, and my solo poly neighbor (bless her) was like, “Oh I can help with most of that!” Then she casually adds that her dad’s a total pro, super handy, and would be happy to support—especially since I’ve poured into this community too. It really does come back around. He even taught me how to fix the dishwasher for next time. It might sound like just a domestic chore, but honestly, these are the real, everyday shifts that come with denesting and de-escalating. Decentering romance and re-centering community? That’s been the most beautiful tradeoff. So if you ever find yourself in a pinch, whether emotionally, logistically, or otherwise, don’t rush to find a partner to solve it all. Build your village. Ask your people. Community is care. 💖 Use our Relationship Agreement Generator to set boundaries and agreements for your polycule!

In a society that romanticizes being joined at the hip, we rarely talk about what it means to love deeply without becoming enmeshed. Many assume that physical distance signals the downfall of a relationship—but what if it actually strengthens it? When we pursue our individual dreams, we grow as people, and that growth naturally flows back into our relationships, making them richer and more resilient. Romantic relationships don’t have to be a default source of emotional regulation or a substitute for community. Many of us were taught that love means constant proximity, shared living, and total emotional reliance on one person—but that’s just compulsory monogamy talking. Instead, we can choose interdependence: supporting each other while maintaining autonomy, holding space for emotions without losing ourselves, and building strong communities so no single person has to be our everything. Featured in this video is my brilliant friend @kaichengthom who I’ll be collaborating with in the future on polyamory, somatics, and relationship anarchy. Stay tuned! 💬 How do you navigate space and independence in your relationships? Drop your thoughts below! 👇🏽✨ 💖 Use our Relationship Agreement Generator to set boundaries and agreements for your polycule!

Nick and I have begun de-escalating our relationship and are no longer nesting partners. For nearly a month now, he’s been living in the top unit of our duplex—usually reserved for Airbnb—while I remain in the lower unit. Eventually, he plans to get his own condo in the neighborhood. I initiated this shift five years into our relationship after realizing I’m solo-polyamorous and don’t actually want to live with any adult full-time. Given that Toronto is one of the most expensive cities in the world, staying together while working toward denesting was the most practical option. Now that we’ve finally made it happen, it’s been interesting to see how we’re both adjusting. Nick, who was initially reluctant, is actually enjoying it even more than I am—thriving in his own space and deeply focused on his work projects. I love having my home organized exactly the way I like, but I’ve found myself missing him more than expected, which feels like a good thing. Too much familiarity can breed contempt, and distance really does make the heart grow fonder. With the daily logistics of cohabitation no longer a concern, all that’s left is love—and I genuinely look forward to every time I see him, even though he’s just upstairs.

Another celebrity couple to add to those choosing the Living Apart Together (LAT) model. LAT relationships allow partners to maintain a committed connection while living separately, offering an alternative to traditional cohabitation. This approach provides independence, reduces conflicts, and balances intimacy with personal space. LAT suits modern lifestyles, accommodating diverse motivations like career demands, personal preferences, or the desire for autonomy, while still fostering a serious and emotionally close bond. My inspiration for LAT came when I was 18, watching the biopic of Frida Kahlo. She and Diego Rivera famously lived in separate houses connected by a bridge. Later, learning that Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn have been together for 35 years without living together—and crediting that as a secret to their relationship’s longevity—confirmed I was onto something. Now, I’m no longer nested with my anchor partner, and it’s glorious. After 14.5 years together, our relationship living apart together is better than ever.

Have you ever de-escalated a relationship? Share in the comments below ⬇️ Nick and I are in the process of denesting after 13 years of living together. For now, he’ll be staying in the top apartment of our duplex before transitioning to his own condo nearby. This has been a plan we’ve worked on for some time. It’s not my first experience with deescalating a relationship—I’ve shifted romantic partnerships into queerplatonic connections before (queerplatonic relationships are committed intimate relationships between significant others whose relationship is not romantic in nature). I’m not one for ending relationships entirely; I’m more interested in preserving the good parts and staying connected in community. The all-or-nothing mindset of compulsory monogamy culture feels jarring to me. I value fluidity and transitions, even though they aren’t always easy. Denesting is something I’ve wanted to fully embrace my solo poly dreams, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a challenging adjustment. After 13 years, living with a partner becomes a habit, and breaking that routine is emotionally complex. Some people view this as the beginning of the “end” for us because they’re stuck in a limited monogamous framework. But I refuse to live in fear or dwell on “what if.” If something ends, it ends. I believe in living abundantly, moving forward, and always striving for self-actualization. Change is the only constant in life. ✨ Polyamorous? Deescalating or redefining your relationships? Create a new agreement that works for everyone with the Relationship Agreement Generator! ✨ 50% OFF from Dec 26-31 with code AGREEMENT50.

I’ve been working on my polyamory boundary framework theory for the last six months, teasing bits here and there. Every time I shared it, a lot of people—especially autonomy-prioritizing polyamorists—told me how much it resonated with them. For many, it was the first time they felt truly seen and understood. The reason I could connect with them is because I’ve dated people and had metamours with drastically different polyamory boundary approaches. Their need for no boundaries was wild to me—never knowing what they wanted, craving spontaneity—and I realized it often stemmed from having very controlling parents. Meanwhile, my approach is the opposite. I’m all about proactive discussions, transparency, and setting clear boundaries upfront. Growing up with a lot of unpredictability—living in 12 countries and attending 18 schools—made me loathe surprises. Both our sides clearly operate from trauma in different ways. My partner Nick, on the other hand, is incredibly flexible and adaptable. He can seamlessly act as a hinge for people with opposing polyamory boundary frameworks, which is something I deeply admire. He also has little childhood trauma. Coaching hundreds of polyamorists and engaging with nearly half a million followers has helped refine and validate this framework theory. This carousel is my first attempt at breaking it down in a slide format, and I’d love your feedback!

I’ve received a lot of questions about my post sharing my dream of having six children—one with Nick, two with other people, and fostering three. Many of the assumptions seem to come from monogamous or hierarchical thinking, where people imagine Nick as the “primary partner” or as the sole parent raising all the children, while the other partners wouldn’t share responsibility. But that’s not how I see it. Think of my vision like a thriving forest, where different trees, plants, and ecosystems coexist to support life as a whole. I am a solo-polyamorous relationship anarchist, which means I don’t have a primary partner, and I prioritize autonomy and equity in all my relationships. My family model isn’t based on the Western nuclear family, which often feels like a single potted plant—beautiful but contained and isolated. Instead, I want my family to be a forest: interconnected, diverse, and rooted in a supportive community. I draw inspiration from matriarchies, Indigenous cultures, and anarchist communes, where raising children is often a communal effort. In those systems, love and care aren’t confined to small, isolated units but are shared widely, like branches reaching out to provide shade and shelter. My ideal family structure is one where everyone involved contributes to creating a web of support, love, and resilience—not one where a single couple is expected to carry the entire weight. A bigger, more inclusive community allows children to experience care, mentorship, and support from multiple adults, reflecting the kind of abundant love that many matriarchal and communal societies value. This model might seem unfamiliar to those used to the nuclear family ideal, but for me, it’s a way of maximizing love, support, and connection. It’s a way to raise children with a village, not in a silo.

We’ve been planning on denesting for years, and it’s exciting to finally take the first steps and see how it unfolds. As a solo-polyamorous relationship anarchist, I don’t want to live with any adult, but I also aim to decenter romance and recentre community. My vision is to have my partners, friends, and family all nearby, and I’ve been steadily working toward that. Some friends have already moved into my neighborhood, and now two of my partners live close as well. A few of us are even exploring the idea of buying property in the area and redesigning it to be more community-oriented, breaking away from the nuclear family model. I’m fortunate to already live in a community-focused neighborhood, which aligns perfectly with these goals. You can absolutely reimagine your living arrangements—there’s no rule that says we have to accept the nuclear family or isolated single-living frameworks that Western, modern culture promotes. For me, the dream is to have three biological kids with different parents, foster three children at a time, and do all of this with a robust network of community support. Ideally, the parents of my children would live next door, creating a blend of family and community while maintaining independent housing. These things aren’t mutually exclusive—you can have both community and independence if you dream big and take steps toward it. Of course, I’m not saying it’s all easy—finances are always a factor—but there are often creative solutions for many people. The key is to work toward your vision one step at a time and remain open to reconfiguring your life in ways that better reflect your values and desires. What would your dream living arrangement look like?

I’ve never been monogamous because I’ve never uncritically followed social norms. So when anyone tries to shame me into monogamy—whether it’s an online troll or a “cowpoke” (polyamory term for someone who dates you to slowly steer you toward monogamy)—it’s laughable. At 39 years old, it’s not about to start working. Monogamy became the societal standard as a way to control female sexuality, emerging during the agricultural revolution when land ownership and male labor became central. Men wanted to ensure their biological children inherited their property, which led to strict societal norms designed to regulate women’s bodies. This legacy lives on in patriarchal systems today, where men still dominate, private property remains central, and monogamy is idealized. Think of traditions like fathers “giving away” daughters at weddings, complete with white gowns symbolizing virginity. It’s no coincidence that women are sold the myth of marriage more aggressively than men, encouraged to seek male validation through it. Men hold the power to propose, but ironically, they’re the ones who benefit most from marriage—it extends their lifespans, while women’s often decrease. In matriarchal societies, monogamy isn’t a thing—it’s a construct of patriarchy. I come from the Kikuyu, a tribe that was once matriarchal, and those roots persist in our traditions. In my tribe, only women can marry themselves through a custom called Kamweretho. I’m fortunate to have grown up knowing that was as an option and several others, not just the default of monogamous marriage. Everyone should have the freedom to choose their own relationship orientation without being told that monogamy is the only valid choice. That’s nothing more than a patriarchal myth.