I wish someone had told me sooner that I had been seeking mastery all this time, but I wouldn’t have been ready to hear it. Until r came along.
Here’s how a 23-year-old mixed race Asian genderqueer polyamorous bisexual femme who just moved to Brooklyn does poly.
“When I’m being used for sex, I feel like a vessel through which pleasure flows, hot and bursting.”
“Even if I didn’t think I was hurting her feelings, she’s telling me I was. So what is my end game with my current strategy – make her feel badly for bringing up an emotional issue that she’s uncomfortable with? Make her feel like dirt for being honest with her own feelings?”
It took me years to settle into the idea that masculinity and topping were actually, authentically my identities.
How a a 28-year-old white genderfluid bisexual in recovery from an eating disorder/anxiety/depression does polyamory.
Somehow, self-identifying as a submissive makes some potential doms think I am their sub.
“Why is a hug or a kiss seen as so much more loving than spending the time to give comments on a paper full of cherished ideas? Than sharing a drink to celebrate a quarter’s hard work? Than creating something together?”
You just have to be honest about what you’re looking for, and keep going after it.
I like to think I can control my anger, but I usually end up burning my own life down instead.
Here’s how a 28-year-old Arab-American queer demisexual cis woman living in the urban Midwest does ethical non-monogamy.
“I guess I had a lot of opinions that night because you told me that I was especially chatty. I told you it was because you weren’t giving me anything to keep my mouth busy.”
“We met on the first day of high school. I was drawn to her for some reason. She was reading; that might have been it. She had glasses; that could have been it, too.”
When the world feels dark, we have to find the light where we can and hold onto it. This is a story about a bright, shining spot of goodness: My Granny.
I want to break things — holes, walls, people. I want to feel the begging in my pelvis and let it ignite the fire under me to burn bright up my spine and light up all my colors.
“Boats have also been incredibly healing for me and have really helped me create better relationships in all parts of my life. They make me work harder to maintain my friendships, be better at communication, and generally just better at existing around all different kinds of people.”
I imagine being a collared submissive as a physical manifestation of my and my dominant’s commitment, a symbol around kinky folks and a public secret around vanilla ones.
“After any terrorist attack, we’re all sitting on the imaginary couch together being like, ‘Please don’t be brown, please don’t be brown, please don’t be brown.’ And it’s not even a joke.”
“He’d asked me about it before, saying it was something he’d always wanted. And now, he was quivering on the floor, looking up at me, handing me an open knife with both hands.”
When waking up every morning feels like starting another steep climb, how do we keep our wits about us long enough to reach the top and breathe?