Log off, touch grass, and self care

As I was writing this article, I received a rare WhatsApp notification on my phone. What did it say? Enjoy! First off:

Have you ever imagined your life as a sitcom? Like most writers with Protagonist Syndrome, I always do. I think about my settings, my episodic plots, my seasonal storylines, and the supporting characters that make my life more interesting. No matter how small the role these recurring characters play, one thing is certain: for better or worse, they shape our world.

My daily episodes tend to start in a setting familiar to many: a coffee shop greeted by the smell of freshly ground beans and the chatter of patrons trying to make the most of their day. Well, that’s the romantic version. I work late at the bar, so it’s usually early afternoon when I pop in. The morning rush is long gone, and I’m dressed in floppy, pajama-like clothing, but either way, the first character of my day remains the same: my barista, Spencer.

With his technicolor dreadlocks, anime memorabilia, and punny Steven Rose T-shirt, it’s clear that Spencer is on his own path. So it’s no surprise that when I moved to the neighborhood during the pandemic, Spencer became a welcomed friend; our 10-minute walk together was worth the pricey cold brew.

But as I got to know Spencer, I found myself confused by their relationship status. They would recount the events of their weekend while talking about their boyfriends, daughters, girlfriends, partners, or other partners. At first, I thought I had a terrible memory (which is partly true), but eventually I learned that Spencer was in a polyamorous relationship.

For years, the word “poly” has been thrown around casually in conversations about relationships. Usually, the natural answer is, “What exactly is poly?” Since polyamory is an umbrella term, polyamorous relationships can take many forms. Open relationships, throuples, and even polygamy can be considered polyamorous, but the common theme is: Polyamory rejects the notion of a single love in life and accepts that one can love multiple partners at the same time. Now, polyamory is so prevalent that even baristas are participating, proving that relationships today are as customizable as a latte.

So how does a relationship like this begin? Getting serious about one person is hard enough, but more than one. I’ve found that it’s easier to count gradually through conversation — 1, 2, 3. That’s what happened with Spencer, because her boyfriend and girlfriend were a couple before they started dating. “We were introduced by a mutual friend,” Spencer says. “We kept in touch off and on for about a year and a half, he’d invite me out to dinner and hang out, and we spent more and more time together, and eventually he asked me out.”

Earlier this year I Atlantic magazine article In writing about the rise of polyamory, the author described the lifestyle as an elite luxury. “The rich proclaim from their gilded pedestals that polyamory is superior to monogamy,” he wrote of the wealthy. But as far as I can see, this is simply false. Perhaps our perception of polyamory matches the online images shared by the elite, but that doesn’t mean it’s exclusive to the elite. For example, Spencer has been in a polyamorous relationship for nearly three years.

And Spencer is no exception. Besides baristas, coworkers appear on our comedy shows more often than friends and family. I previously wrote about Kelsey, a stylish door girl at our bar, who I learned was in a polyamorous relationship and was exploring the trend before it was even a trend.

Like Spencer, Kelsey’s thru-pulling didn’t happen overnight. “In college, I was exploring my bisexuality but hadn’t yet come out,” Kelsey says. “I started casually dating a guy who casually revealed the shocking fact that he was in an open relationship. I saw a picture of his partner and knew I had to meet her. When we finally did meet, we hit it off immediately and started hanging out together as a trio. Soon, we were inseparable.”

And so Kelsey’s sitcom career moved from Felicity to Three’s Company. What I didn’t know until recently was that there was an added twist: “Fast forward,” she begins, “and they got pregnant and we were all raising the baby together.”

I was surprised to find myself raising a child in not one but two polyamorous relationships, which may sound like a pain, but it’s working out better than I thought it would. “We face a lot of the challenges that most monogamous parents face,” Spencer explains. “The main benefit I would say is, [our daughter] She has three parents who love her, support her, protect her and always look after her. She has three people she can talk to and cry to, and we all have different opinions and experiences that allow us to give her our own advice and teachings.”

This highlights another important aspect of polyamorous relationships: they are often more than a one-off. Being labeled this way requires serious thought, deep discussion, and mutual consent. The rest of us can sneer and dislike these threesomes all we want, but polyamorous relationships can easily be just as serious, if not more so, than monogamous couples.

In fact, polyamory can even solve some of the problems of monogamy. “Before, I felt pressured to be everything to one partner, and vice versa,” says Kelsey. “But having two partners takes that burden away. If one partner wants to do something that I don’t want to do, we can both enjoy that activity and I can opt out of it without feeling guilt.”

Interestingly, while polyamory is considered entirely queer, same-sex relationships aren’t required. For both Kelsey and Spencer, at least one person in their threesomes remained heterosexual. That’s because threesomes often find a balance that allows everyone involved to be their best sexual selves. “I didn’t realize it at the time,” Kelsey says. “But I was definitely able to express both my submissive and dominant sides in verse.” This makes sense, because sexual dynamics are complicated. It can be exhausting to expect one person to fulfill everything we want.

Still, polyamory comes with its own complexities, one of which is the perception of others. “My mom wasn’t very understanding of our relationship at first,” Spencer says, “but once I explained our relationship, she was super supportive. We also faced some criticism from strangers with ‘traditional’ family values.”

This echoes Kelsey’s experience: “When we moved in together, our friends were shocked at first, but eventually accepted. It was always stressful deciding whether we could all go to work events or family get-togethers or just the two of us.”

And as with all relationships, emotions get tangled, which is what ultimately brought Kelsey’s experience to an end. “After about two years, I noticed that the romance between them started to fade. Their date nights became as rare as unicorn sightings and eventually faded away completely. I felt like a referee in a never-ending match of jealousy and tension.” Naturally, with more people comes more emotions to manage, so the work needed in a relationship never completely goes away.

Romance drama. I can relate to it now, and I’m back on WhatsApp. The notification is a message from a dear friend in South Africa. He and I met nearly 10 years ago, when I was studying in the UK. We hit it off immediately, and although we live separate lives in different places, we still make time for friendly conversations, romantic getaways, and the occasional lovers’ quarrel. That was exactly what happened a year ago.

We had barely spoken since the argument, but he offered an apology, which I quickly apologized back to, and we both realized that, at the end of the day, we still cared about each other.

So, writing this article like an anthropologist analyzing a totally different polyamorous culture has made me realize that the concept of “a lot of love” may not be as far-fetched as I thought. I, like many queer people, have experienced romantic relationships that never died out. These few people care about me, always root for me, and won’t turn their back on me if we don’t talk for a while. They know me well, often better than my family, and are almost always worth apologizing for.

It’s fair to say that most of us have had a recurring character like this on our sitcoms. Maybe someone comes to mind as you read this. Maybe they’re the one that sticks around for you because their best moment is yet to come, or maybe they’re the one that helps you clarify what you really want, like Janice for Chandler or the creepy scientist for Phoebe.

Perhaps we are all a little polyamorous, and the details of when and how we balance love in our lives are minor at best. A polyamorous society of queer and queer-prone people? This is a development I can support.

Jake Stewart I’m a DC-based writer and barback.