“Ugh,” she says. “More unicorn hunters. I hate unicorn hunters. Don’t they know that no self-respecting bisexual woman is willing to date a couple?”
I bite my tongue yet again, not sure if she remembers that I’ve dated couples. And not just one couple. A handful. Enough to be able to compare and contrast. To understand what works for me and what doesn’t.
“Seriously, what are they thinking?” she says again.
“Well,” I say finally, unable to stay quiet any longer. “They might be looking for someone who thinks less like you and more like me.”
I never set out as a polyamorous person looking to date couples. Seth and I had been monogamous for 8 years when we found out Megan and Pete, two of our closest friends, were secretly polyamorous. Pete was busy dating someone, and Megan seemed lonely and was on board with dating us, so Seth, Megan, and I formed a kind of triad, one we all mutually agreed was to come secondary to our marriages.
And it was a lot of fun for a while, dating Megan. She commented frequently on how great it was to mix the new shiny of us with the obvious depth of our connection. In some ways, Megan was the gasoline to our fire, and for a time, all of us loved it.
But when something deeper failed to take root between Megan and me (I loved her, found her sexy as hell, but she just wasn’t that into me), our triad broke up. Megan and Seth went on to date on their own (and even now, 8 years later, they still do).
But me, I was on my own. I made friends, kept an open mind, and explored connections when they made sense to me.
And after a while? Those connections led me to dating couples.
Dating Couples as a Unicorn
The first time I was intimate with a couple, I understood exactly what Megan had been talking about. I was the gasoline.
And it was spectacular. In many ways, I preferred the unicorn role to being on the other side of things, when I’d been part of the couple.
When I was a unicorn, I was the guest star. The couple lavished attention on me. Wonderful dinners. Little gifts. Physical affection. As a unicorn, I began to understood what it might be like to be an only child (I have 3 siblings).
This couple positively spoiled me.
It was carnally exciting to be physical with not one but two new shiny partners.
And their dynamic was sweet. Their bond with one another was strong, stable. They treated each other — and me — with respect.
I was filled inside with my own well of New Relationship Energy, and when we made love, I felt their Old Relationship Energy with each other wash over me like a giant wave.
But not all couples were like this one. I went on to date others where their dynamic was in trouble. They were adversarial and controlling with one another and tried to control me in turn. The sex was tense and heated but awkward. And the day to day? Well, it left much to be desired.
Dating a Couple Isn’t Inherently Good or Bad — It’s Intense
Still, I have the fond memories of the couples I’ve enjoyed. And those memories remind me that dating a couple isn’t good or bad, not on its face. Rather, dating a couple is intense and therefore risky.
And that risk is why dating couples is not for everyone. I date couples very rarely these days, although I don’t completely rule it out.
But my own experiences convince me that when a bisexual woman dates a couple it doesn’t mean she’s lacking in self-respect. Because there are potential rewards for those who can hazard the risk of being vulnerable with not one, but two new people. Folks with an established dynamic and history.
I don’t think of unicorns as desperate, unreasonable, or lacking in self-confidence.
No. Unicorns are brave.
My new book is out!
A Geek’s Guide to Unicorn Ranching: Advice for Couples Seeking Another Partner