In Order to Be Polyamorous, I Had to Get Over the Idea That It’d Make Me a Bad Bisexual

the landscape of a rocky alien planet. The sky is blue, but there are two moons in it.
Image by Pixabay / CC 0

I Kept Having the Same Two Conversations, Over and Over Again

Growing up bisexual, I’d end up in an unpleasant conversation every time I told a new partner my sexual orientation. And it usually went one of the following ways:

Conversation #1: 

Them: Oh, you’re bi? Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you need to have a boyfriend/girlfriend,  » Read more

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Polyamory Helped Me Find a Community of Other Bisexual People

It's the bisexual flag. Three horizontal stripes, going from top to bottom: Pink, purple, blue.
Image by Pixabay / CC 0

As I’ve written before, unlike a lot of other polyamorous educators, I wasn’t someone who always knew I was polyamorous. Indeed, I considered myself quite a monogamous person growing up. Even now, I think of myself as being more ambiamorous than anything else, able to happily practice either polyamory or monogamy,  » Read more

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What It Was Like Growing Up Bisexual & Being the First Girl In My Class to Develop

a photo of two people. The one on the left is cosplaying as Jessica Rabbit with orange hair, a red strapless gown with a high leg slit and purple gloves. The woman standing next to her on the right is dressed in a flowered shirt and cardigan
Image by Kay Pike / CC BY

I remember standing in the movie theater staring at a game I couldn’t take my eyes off. It was there, wedged in between the spiral wishing well funnel you dropped coins into and what was essentially a glorified mood ring, where you’d press as hard as you could, and it would tell you how stressed you were —  » Read more

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Sleeping with the Enemy: On Women Dating Women While Still Viewing Them as Competition

a pink measuring tape on a wavy patterned white cloth background
Image by gina pina / CC BY

“Keep your top on,” she said.

“Sure,” I said, dropping my arms to my sides and then quickly wrapping them around her waist. And as we kissed, I moved my hands up her torso, feeling her body through her shirt. Her chest had its own topography. Subtle places where she came in. Went out.  » Read more

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