I am scrolling through my Instagram, and find myself laughing at a quote I am reading off of the Overheard LA feed. It reads, “Mom you’re no one in this town if you’re not bisexual and a vegan.” I send it to my friends and we all laugh about it. I keep scrolling, sending memes, and move on with my day.

It wasn’t until weeks later did I actually reflect upon what I read. Something as small as an Instagram post reinforced the idea that I needed to be a fucking unicorn. If I am not everything I am obviously nothing, as if that makes sense. I have been burned so many times by love, I had given it up, and sworn it off. Ran from it like a disease. But alas, I tripped and found myself in a loving and healthy relationship, and here I am mucking it up. If someone loves you, you don’t need to be anyone but the best version of yourself to keep their attention. I do not believe that gender and sex are binary, much like everything in nature I believe they exist on a spectrum. I happen to be a woman who is in a relationship with a man, but I find women very sexually attractive.

I am very progressive when it comes to my sexuality. To the point where the thought of watching my boyfriend having sex with another woman is arousing to me. (I would much later find out that this is not the case). The thought that we could share a sexual experience with another person, that we could both be pleasured by someone else,  and we can could do it together makes me hot and bothered. Like I said, it was all good in theory, but definitely not in practice. There are some serious boundaries that need to be set in place for me to even consider this, and so I went through all the p’s and q’s perfectly. While I like to test my limits I do not want to break them, even though I find myself doing this so much more often than not. Do I want to do this for me, for him, do I feel pressured to keep him interested in our sex life, and is this something he’s just used to having? Because these days the 3 some is just another check on a Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, Raya, The League, Luxy, insert here box.

I bring up the 3 some and set some boundaries. I decide: let’s make it his birthday present, because this shit isn’t going to be a regular thing. So we do the damn thing, and throughout the entire time, I am putting on a show, trying to be his fantasy. His fantasy in my mind is some pornographic version of myself that honestly is a little humiliating. What’s he sees is his fantasy for sure, what’s going on in my mind is I fucking hate this, I want this to end, eyes rolling into the back of my head, in my head. All the while staying in character, because I started this, so might as well finish it. Instead of saying hey, maybe I am not completely comfortable with this, I think we should stop. What an insane and healthy idea that never crossed my mind once.

The deed has been done, and I feel like I have won some points as a cool girlfriend now. I know he bragged to his friends and they’re all calling him super lucky to have a girl like me. I feel a bit of pride that washes away the bit of annoyance that lingered in me. I wish it would have ended there, box checked let’s move on. Of course once you open these doors, they do not shut themselves. I start to notice he’s talking about how hot other women are as if I am one of the boys. DUDE literally what the fuck, I am not going to appraise every girl in West Hollywood with you, give me a fucking break. What am I, a robot now? Jealousy starts to creep up on me, but I stay silent because I am the cool girlfriend, who’s into girls, and he’s so lucky to have. Little by little my boundaries are being crossed until one night I drink too much and it comes out fast, nonsensical and sloppy. I wake up embarrassed, ashamed, and find myself overexplaining for even having feelings. It could have all been prevented if I had just opened my mouth and told him how I felt. Just because I’m into other women does NOT mean it’s ok for you to ogle and comment on them like I am one of your boys, because I am not. I am your girlfriend, and I need to feel secure in being able to keep your attention all by myself. In hindsight I should have never offered up the threesome to begin with. He is good at pushing his boundaries, I am not. Love has left me jaded, LA insecure, and filters dysmorphia.

The world we live in today tells me I have to be a size 00, five foot seven, make six figures, have a hairless body, but long thick hair, tattooed eyebrows, tinted lips, eyelash extensions, wake up looking perfect but not be vain or materialistic. The world tells me to be smart, but not too smart or opinionated, because that’s just a ball buster that no one wants to be around. I have to be classy but put on leather lingerie and drop to my knees when daddy says so. If I’m not in the “mood” I’m cold, and if I sleep around I am used up. I have been taught my entire life to take care of your man, and your children. And for me it’s what makes me happy because I genuinely love to nurture. But many people will call me a gold digger because I am not career driven, even though I have had a career.  When a woman puts her career first she’s negligent and not a provider. I am seriously physically and emotionally so tired of existing! This is all too much for anyone on planet earth, unless your name is Siri or Alexa. In reality who can do all of these things? It’s not possible. Now the real question comes to mind. Who is telling me that I have to? Is it the society I live in, is it the men around me, or is it myself?

While asking a variety of women - all different sociocultural and economic backgrounds - there were a lot of reasons they decided to have threesomes. “I didn’t think I was enough by myself,” to actually enjoying another person in the bedroom, they’re not into their guy enough, or feel like it’s the thing to do.

Here are a few words from THE WOMEN OF THREESOMES:

MISS ALWAYS LOOKING FOR LOVE IN THE WRONG PLACES:

I have threesomes because I am insecure and I know that he has better options and is better than I am. I don’t know why I feel like I need to prove something to him because he told me that I was such pure sexual energy and lit a fire that his fiancé couldn’t. I guess he put it on me to fill the void and sexual frustration in his life. He told me that he loved me, and I kept it interesting. The person that came before me was boring and I was fun and brought passion back into his life. What I didn’t know was that he was a bottomless pit that would never be full. Even though he knew I didn’t like girls he wanted me to give into him, and be happy, even excited or grateful to do it. He felt I needed to give him that to complete him and make him happy even though I always felt horrible afterwards.

I have always been able to separate feelings from sex very easily when it doesn’t come to a relationship but when I love, I love hard. He left his older intellectual girlfriend for me. I had to dress conservative even when he wasn’t there, I had to wear flats to make him feel like a man. I was his new toy, but I also had a function. My new job in this partnership was to get 18-21 year old girls to have threesomes with us. The girls he had me get for us were usually working girls or club girls. He would try and ease my insecurities by saying he wasn’t really into them because there was a special place in hell for girls like that. He wanted that to make me more confident in engaging and bringing them back to our bedroom. I cant forget the eightballs he’d order every night to make me fucked up enough to be dependent on him and ok with what I was doing. Not only that, he’d make me go to church with his mother every weekend, volunteer at his shelters, and bow down to the other women / “Models” that he would have in his house that treated me very badly and said that I needed to prove myself to them as if they were St Peter at the gates of heaven. I mean what was I thinking!?

I was very guarded and even though I knew that it wasn’t real, he spent his time and energy convincing me that it was. I knew that his friends that were all females (who were very mean to me), hated me, but I longed for their acceptance, and friendship. He still gave his ex fiancé all the perks of going out with him while I lived with him, fucked him, and was expected to get women for him. Every time I was upset - I felt like a pimp without a paycheck. He was supporting me but not supporting me if that makes any sense. The lack of respect he had for me is that he would give his friends the same gifts he would give his alleged beloved- me. All the women in his life got the box set from his jewelry shop. A little blow to my ego as his live-in girlfriend. For example my birthday comes around, he gave the models that he would invite over to his house every day something better than he would give me. I am sorry are they being paid to be here, and why do I feel less and less like you love me and more like free labor every day? I always wanted him to stick up for me but I never felt that he’d make me feel so low that I wouldn’t stick up for myself either. Until the day he dropped me, it felt like my entire world crashed down around me. He knew that I wasn’t ok, that he twisted me up into something I didn’t recognize, and didn’t care, probably didn’t have an afterthought about it. Having opened my heart, I felt like I lost all control. So I broke everything in his house, and it was more money than you could imagine. But what he broke was far more precious: my faith in men and love after he worked so hard to get it, he threw it away like trash. He treated me like nothing, and in my mind I became nothing.

MISS I’LL TRY ANYTHING ONCE:

It’s ok to do it just to do it. Don’t knock it till you try it, I am in Vegas and I’m branching out into a world I don’t know. Not sure if it’s my thing, but it makes me a little nervous in a one foot in and one foot out way. My best friend’s pulling me into an older attractive man’s arms while I’m unsure of where I stand with my own guy. This could be exactly the distraction I need, to get my mind off the worst mistake I have ever made waiting for me back at home. Me and Mr. X are playing games, pulling and pushing through missed dates and text messages. He says he wants me but I’m not sure, looking back he wanted everyone and no one, is greedy to the point of emotional highway robbery. So in order to get him off my mind I take a risk. Something I never thought I would do. Was it safe? yes. Would I be treated like a princess and get spoiled? yes. Did everybody want me? yes. But what was in the back of my mind was that the person I wanted to want me maybe didn’t? The threesome gave me a type of validation: I am still hot and I’ve got it. BUT did it give me pleasure? Or was it a mark off my box.

Not being into girls at all, this was something for myself. I don’t know what it was even now. It took me awhile to even concede with the arrangement. Sitting there I found myself thinking, I’m going to do this. It’s going to happen. Its now or never. There was never going to be a safer time to do it, and I knew it wasn’t for him, it was for me. Not because I like girls and not because I wanted to have a threesome but because it really was a check off my bucket list. Also, the shopping didn’t hurt. Talk about feeling like a QUEEN. Someone begging you for hours to even consider them. I watched him take off her clothes and I feel as fucked up as they are. The alcohol and drugs had definitely gotten to me. I’m horny now. Maybe I actually do want this more than I knew. He takes his turn with me. I zoned out more than I thought I could, and I enjoyed giving into the situation at hand. Sharing wasn’t bad after all, especially when you have no emotional connection. What’s the difference between a threesome and a one night stand? At least I walked away with a hot pair of shoes, and he gets to kiss the feet that are wearing them.

Would I do it again? Probably not. I wouldn't do it because I’m not into girls and I don’t like sharing attention. I enjoy one on one attention from the person that’s spreading my legs. If I’m not the center of it all and I’m not the reason that they’re doing it, then I don’t want to, it’s not worth it for me. That was lessons from the polyamorous. Don't knock it till you try it, but what happens with X and Y stays with X and Y, there is no Z.

MISS HOW DID I END UP HERE?

Let me tell you my threesome story. I met my Mr. X at a time in my life that was very transitional. He brought me into his Hollywood world and showed me a different kind of life. That doesn’t mean money, it was more of a social than an economic status. I didn’t want to admit it, but this was a faster pace than i was used to. Everybody around me had been living this life in Hollywood that I never thought I would be a part of. It made taking off your top and getting into a jacuzzi, running around naked on ecstasy seem like very normal things…How do I keep this guys attention, my Mr. X?

I held fast in my identity at first and we got married. But my identity didn’t last long. Everybody was having experiences that we had never had. I felt like I needed to give him something that I wasn’t prepared for. I was counseled against it but I did it anyways, thinking that one time would be enough. I was drunk, and they both knew it, beyond drunk, my friend and my husband grabbed me by the hands and pressured me to do it. I felt like they were so into it that it must have been me that was being lame. I am a very jealous person by nature, I don’t even like my husband looking at other girls, but I did it anyway. The night was a blur, but I know I didn’t like it when I finally came to. I woke up sober feeling hurt and confused.

I almost didn’t know what had happened, how did it get to this point? I loved the freedom of our environment and I felt like this was what I had to do to keep it. Never knowing that this was going to become consistent. This is the bed that I made with myself, and potentially every girlfriend I would ever come to know. Even though I was not ok with it, I turned that frown upside down, and pushed every horrid emotion aside.

The thing that I regret most is that I even let it happen. I should have never crossed those lines because I was never comfortable with them. I think back to the first time he ever asked me to take off my shirt very casually in a jacuzzi full of our friends and I was shy so I didn’t want to do it, I honestly didn’t want him to want me to do it. Those were my instincts and I should have stuck with them. I feel very differently about him because in the beginning he made me feel ashamed. I hated that he was objectifying me for his own ego and in the end it only made me want revenge. I only wanted revenge because I never articulated what I wanted. I wanted to get back at him, and I wanted to hurt him. I needed to show him that I could make him feel helpless as well, like he was just my toy to be play with this time. He treated me like one first after all, if I wasn't a toy why would he be dressing me and undressing me like a doll? Perfect for the parents, happy for the friends, slutty for the party. 3 years later I’m in the shower getting ready for work and come out and catch my husband with my girlfriend, someone I considered a good friend of mine. This was my first threesome, and what do they do? The same as me, blame it on the drugs and alcohol but it’s 8am and they’ve worn off. There is 0 excuse at this point. I want to slam my head into the wall because the only person to blame is myself, which keeps repeating in my head over and over. That is when I knew it would never go back to how it was before. Seven years later and I’m moving my things out of the house. Do not do what you are not comfortable with.

Lessons from the Polyamorous:

Either you’re into it or not. Either you enjoy other people, or you enjoy seeing your partner with someone else. OR maybe you enjoy getting fucked by another man and making him watch, and maybe your man likes that too.

There is no such thing as reciprocity in this situation if you’re not into it or you’re uncomfortable. There is reciprocity if you’re both into it. When you love somebody you don’t want to feel like you owe them something, and you should never have to. You don’t owe them anything, the only person you owe anything to is yourself. There’s no transactional fee that can be made for your feelings, your love, and your comfort. They should know that and respect it, but if you never say it they will never know. Do it for you, or don’t do it at all. If you’re giving up a part of yourself to do it, then it is probably not the right thing to do. If they’re trying to make you do it - walk, jog or run. All the Barry’s Bootcamps in LA are starting to make sense to me to train us to be good at running away from shitty fuckboys.

I am scrolling through my Instagram, and find myself laughing at a quote I am reading off of the Overheard LA feed. It reads, “Mom you’re no one in this town if you’re not bisexual and a vegan.” I send it to my friends and we all laugh about it. I keep scrolling, sending memes, and move on with my day.

It wasn’t until weeks later did I actually reflect upon what I read. Something as small as an Instagram post reinforced the idea that I needed to be a fucking unicorn. If I am not everything I am obviously nothing, as if that makes sense. I have been burned so many times by love, I had given it up, and sworn it off. Ran from it like a disease. But alas, I tripped and found myself in a loving and healthy relationship, and here I am mucking it up. If someone loves you, you don’t need to be anyone but the best version of yourself to keep their attention. I do not believe that gender and sex are binary, much like everything in nature I believe they exist on a spectrum. I happen to be a woman who is in a relationship with a man, but I find women very sexually attractive.

I am very progressive when it comes to my sexuality. To the point where the thought of watching my boyfriend having sex with another woman is arousing to me. (I would much later find out that this is not the case). The thought that we could share a sexual experience with another person, that we could both be pleasured by someone else,  and we can could do it together makes me hot and bothered. Like I said, it was all good in theory, but definitely not in practice. There are some serious boundaries that need to be set in place for me to even consider this, and so I went through all the p’s and q’s perfectly. While I like to test my limits I do not want to break them, even though I find myself doing this so much more often than not. Do I want to do this for me, for him, do I feel pressured to keep him interested in our sex life, and is this something he’s just used to having? Because these days the 3 some is just another check on a Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, Raya, The League, Luxy, insert here box.

I bring up the 3 some and set some boundaries. I decide: let’s make it his birthday present, because this shit isn’t going to be a regular thing. So we do the damn thing, and throughout the entire time, I am putting on a show, trying to be his fantasy. His fantasy in my mind is some pornographic version of myself that honestly is a little humiliating. What’s he sees is his fantasy for sure, what’s going on in my mind is I fucking hate this, I want this to end, eyes rolling into the back of my head, in my head. All the while staying in character, because I started this, so might as well finish it. Instead of saying hey, maybe I am not completely comfortable with this, I think we should stop. What an insane and healthy idea that never crossed my mind once.

The deed has been done, and I feel like I have won some points as a cool girlfriend now. I know he bragged to his friends and they’re all calling him super lucky to have a girl like me. I feel a bit of pride that washes away the bit of annoyance that lingered in me. I wish it would have ended there, box checked let’s move on. Of course once you open these doors, they do not shut themselves. I start to notice he’s talking about how hot other women are as if I am one of the boys. DUDE literally what the fuck, I am not going to appraise every girl in West Hollywood with you, give me a fucking break. What am I, a robot now? Jealousy starts to creep up on me, but I stay silent because I am the cool girlfriend, who’s into girls, and he’s so lucky to have. Little by little my boundaries are being crossed until one night I drink too much and it comes out fast, nonsensical and sloppy. I wake up embarrassed, ashamed, and find myself overexplaining for even having feelings. It could have all been prevented if I had just opened my mouth and told him how I felt. Just because I’m into other women does NOT mean it’s ok for you to ogle and comment on them like I am one of your boys, because I am not. I am your girlfriend, and I need to feel secure in being able to keep your attention all by myself. In hindsight I should have never offered up the threesome to begin with. He is good at pushing his boundaries, I am not. Love has left me jaded, LA insecure, and filters dysmorphia.

The world we live in today tells me I have to be a size 00, five foot seven, make six figures, have a hairless body, but long thick hair, tattooed eyebrows, tinted lips, eyelash extensions, wake up looking perfect but not be vain or materialistic. The world tells me to be smart, but not too smart or opinionated, because that’s just a ball buster that no one wants to be around. I have to be classy but put on leather lingerie and drop to my knees when daddy says so. If I’m not in the “mood” I’m cold, and if I sleep around I am used up. I have been taught my entire life to take care of your man, and your children. And for me it’s what makes me happy because I genuinely love to nurture. But many people will call me a gold digger because I am not career driven, even though I have had a career.  When a woman puts her career first she’s negligent and not a provider. I am seriously physically and emotionally so tired of existing! This is all too much for anyone on planet earth, unless your name is Siri or Alexa. In reality who can do all of these things? It’s not possible. Now the real question comes to mind. Who is telling me that I have to? Is it the society I live in, is it the men around me, or is it myself?

While asking a variety of women - all different sociocultural and economic backgrounds - there were a lot of reasons they decided to have threesomes. “I didn’t think I was enough by myself,” to actually enjoying another person in the bedroom, they’re not into their guy enough, or feel like it’s the thing to do.

Here are a few words from THE WOMEN OF THREESOMES:

MISS ALWAYS LOOKING FOR LOVE IN THE WRONG PLACES:

I have threesomes because I am insecure and I know that he has better options and is better than I am. I don’t know why I feel like I need to prove something to him because he told me that I was such pure sexual energy and lit a fire that his fiancé couldn’t. I guess he put it on me to fill the void and sexual frustration in his life. He told me that he loved me, and I kept it interesting. The person that came before me was boring and I was fun and brought passion back into his life. What I didn’t know was that he was a bottomless pit that would never be full. Even though he knew I didn’t like girls he wanted me to give into him, and be happy, even excited or grateful to do it. He felt I needed to give him that to complete him and make him happy even though I always felt horrible afterwards.

I have always been able to separate feelings from sex very easily when it doesn’t come to a relationship but when I love, I love hard. He left his older intellectual girlfriend for me. I had to dress conservative even when he wasn’t there, I had to wear flats to make him feel like a man. I was his new toy, but I also had a function. My new job in this partnership was to get 18-21 year old girls to have threesomes with us. The girls he had me get for us were usually working girls or club girls. He would try and ease my insecurities by saying he wasn’t really into them because there was a special place in hell for girls like that. He wanted that to make me more confident in engaging and bringing them back to our bedroom. I cant forget the eightballs he’d order every night to make me fucked up enough to be dependent on him and ok with what I was doing. Not only that, he’d make me go to church with his mother every weekend, volunteer at his shelters, and bow down to the other women / “Models” that he would have in his house that treated me very badly and said that I needed to prove myself to them as if they were St Peter at the gates of heaven. I mean what was I thinking!?

I was very guarded and even though I knew that it wasn’t real, he spent his time and energy convincing me that it was. I knew that his friends that were all females (who were very mean to me), hated me, but I longed for their acceptance, and friendship. He still gave his ex fiancé all the perks of going out with him while I lived with him, fucked him, and was expected to get women for him. Every time I was upset - I felt like a pimp without a paycheck. He was supporting me but not supporting me if that makes any sense. The lack of respect he had for me is that he would give his friends the same gifts he would give his alleged beloved- me. All the women in his life got the box set from his jewelry shop. A little blow to my ego as his live-in girlfriend. For example my birthday comes around, he gave the models that he would invite over to his house every day something better than he would give me. I am sorry are they being paid to be here, and why do I feel less and less like you love me and more like free labor every day? I always wanted him to stick up for me but I never felt that he’d make me feel so low that I wouldn’t stick up for myself either. Until the day he dropped me, it felt like my entire world crashed down around me. He knew that I wasn’t ok, that he twisted me up into something I didn’t recognize, and didn’t care, probably didn’t have an afterthought about it. Having opened my heart, I felt like I lost all control. So I broke everything in his house, and it was more money than you could imagine. But what he broke was far more precious: my faith in men and love after he worked so hard to get it, he threw it away like trash. He treated me like nothing, and in my mind I became nothing.

MISS I’LL TRY ANYTHING ONCE:

It’s ok to do it just to do it. Don’t knock it till you try it, I am in Vegas and I’m branching out into a world I don’t know. Not sure if it’s my thing, but it makes me a little nervous in a one foot in and one foot out way. My best friend’s pulling me into an older attractive man’s arms while I’m unsure of where I stand with my own guy. This could be exactly the distraction I need, to get my mind off the worst mistake I have ever made waiting for me back at home. Me and Mr. X are playing games, pulling and pushing through missed dates and text messages. He says he wants me but I’m not sure, looking back he wanted everyone and no one, is greedy to the point of emotional highway robbery. So in order to get him off my mind I take a risk. Something I never thought I would do. Was it safe? yes. Would I be treated like a princess and get spoiled? yes. Did everybody want me? yes. But what was in the back of my mind was that the person I wanted to want me maybe didn’t? The threesome gave me a type of validation: I am still hot and I’ve got it. BUT did it give me pleasure? Or was it a mark off my box.

Not being into girls at all, this was something for myself. I don’t know what it was even now. It took me awhile to even concede with the arrangement. Sitting there I found myself thinking, I’m going to do this. It’s going to happen. Its now or never. There was never going to be a safer time to do it, and I knew it wasn’t for him, it was for me. Not because I like girls and not because I wanted to have a threesome but because it really was a check off my bucket list. Also, the shopping didn’t hurt. Talk about feeling like a QUEEN. Someone begging you for hours to even consider them. I watched him take off her clothes and I feel as fucked up as they are. The alcohol and drugs had definitely gotten to me. I’m horny now. Maybe I actually do want this more than I knew. He takes his turn with me. I zoned out more than I thought I could, and I enjoyed giving into the situation at hand. Sharing wasn’t bad after all, especially when you have no emotional connection. What’s the difference between a threesome and a one night stand? At least I walked away with a hot pair of shoes, and he gets to kiss the feet that are wearing them.

Would I do it again? Probably not. I wouldn't do it because I’m not into girls and I don’t like sharing attention. I enjoy one on one attention from the person that’s spreading my legs. If I’m not the center of it all and I’m not the reason that they’re doing it, then I don’t want to, it’s not worth it for me. That was lessons from the polyamorous. Don't knock it till you try it, but what happens with X and Y stays with X and Y, there is no Z.

MISS HOW DID I END UP HERE?

Let me tell you my threesome story. I met my Mr. X at a time in my life that was very transitional. He brought me into his Hollywood world and showed me a different kind of life. That doesn’t mean money, it was more of a social than an economic status. I didn’t want to admit it, but this was a faster pace than i was used to. Everybody around me had been living this life in Hollywood that I never thought I would be a part of. It made taking off your top and getting into a jacuzzi, running around naked on ecstasy seem like very normal things…How do I keep this guys attention, my Mr. X?

I held fast in my identity at first and we got married. But my identity didn’t last long. Everybody was having experiences that we had never had. I felt like I needed to give him something that I wasn’t prepared for. I was counseled against it but I did it anyways, thinking that one time would be enough. I was drunk, and they both knew it, beyond drunk, my friend and my husband grabbed me by the hands and pressured me to do it. I felt like they were so into it that it must have been me that was being lame. I am a very jealous person by nature, I don’t even like my husband looking at other girls, but I did it anyway. The night was a blur, but I know I didn’t like it when I finally came to. I woke up sober feeling hurt and confused.

I almost didn’t know what had happened, how did it get to this point? I loved the freedom of our environment and I felt like this was what I had to do to keep it. Never knowing that this was going to become consistent. This is the bed that I made with myself, and potentially every girlfriend I would ever come to know. Even though I was not ok with it, I turned that frown upside down, and pushed every horrid emotion aside.

The thing that I regret most is that I even let it happen. I should have never crossed those lines because I was never comfortable with them. I think back to the first time he ever asked me to take off my shirt very casually in a jacuzzi full of our friends and I was shy so I didn’t want to do it, I honestly didn’t want him to want me to do it. Those were my instincts and I should have stuck with them. I feel very differently about him because in the beginning he made me feel ashamed. I hated that he was objectifying me for his own ego and in the end it only made me want revenge. I only wanted revenge because I never articulated what I wanted. I wanted to get back at him, and I wanted to hurt him. I needed to show him that I could make him feel helpless as well, like he was just my toy to be play with this time. He treated me like one first after all, if I wasn't a toy why would he be dressing me and undressing me like a doll? Perfect for the parents, happy for the friends, slutty for the party. 3 years later I’m in the shower getting ready for work and come out and catch my husband with my girlfriend, someone I considered a good friend of mine. This was my first threesome, and what do they do? The same as me, blame it on the drugs and alcohol but it’s 8am and they’ve worn off. There is 0 excuse at this point. I want to slam my head into the wall because the only person to blame is myself, which keeps repeating in my head over and over. That is when I knew it would never go back to how it was before. Seven years later and I’m moving my things out of the house. Do not do what you are not comfortable with.

Lessons from the Polyamorous:

Either you’re into it or not. Either you enjoy other people, or you enjoy seeing your partner with someone else. OR maybe you enjoy getting fucked by another man and making him watch, and maybe your man likes that too.

There is no such thing as reciprocity in this situation if you’re not into it or you’re uncomfortable. There is reciprocity if you’re both into it. When you love somebody you don’t want to feel like you owe them something, and you should never have to. You don’t owe them anything, the only person you owe anything to is yourself. There’s no transactional fee that can be made for your feelings, your love, and your comfort. They should know that and respect it, but if you never say it they will never know. Do it for you, or don’t do it at all. If you’re giving up a part of yourself to do it, then it is probably not the right thing to do. If they’re trying to make you do it - walk, jog or run. All the Barry’s Bootcamps in LA are starting to make sense to me to train us to be good at running away from shitty fuckboys.