Being polyamorous is not a thing that always was for me, it took me a long time to get to this place. When I was in high school my friend’s group used to talk about living together. Like one big family.  Taking care of one another, looking out for each other and just being together.  We would often talk and make plans, it all seemed normal. This was far before I discovered polyamory was even a thing.

Like most high school friend groups, we went our very separate ways after school ended and did not achieve our ideas because people just change when it comes time to go to college or do other things as we move into adult life. This didn’t stop me from trying to continue on making my dream a reality.

It was in my early 20s that I would learn about polyamory as a thing and I started to explore the concept intellectually. I was still firmly in serial monogamy mindset and not fully solid in my sexuality. That kept me from being able to explore the part of me that was curious about what we had just learned. Then my time in Texas happened, which stopped the thoughts altogether. I was determined at that time to try that staying in one relationship with one person thing.

It did not go well. From there, I just gave up. Back with my parents, I felt like I had failed. Relationships didn’t seem to work at all, not without me trying. In hindsight, I should have taken a break, though I was running on autopilot really in those first few months. 

Then in November 2013, my life made a drastic change in the span of one day. I had started the day in a relationship that took a turn for the worst all while I went over to watch Doctor Who, to sleeping on the floor of my recently new friend’s second room of their apartment because the partner I had tossed me out in that night.  From there begins a roller coaster of a new life. I found myself being brought together with people and a new group forming around me.

Through many late night conversations, I came to find my roommate (and future partner) had the same feelings I did, about a group that stayed together and helped one another. We both had so many of the same, though somewhat different goals. I felt like my dream was actually obtainable again. Things were good, we worked like a unit, we took care of one another and it was actually wonderful.

However, things took a turn and a few years later the whole thing experienced an upheaval once more. This time I wasn’t the one to leave, but the roommate who shared the dream I did. I can still remember how my world froze when he told me he was leaving that day. People from miles away coming to get him. I wanted to beg him not to leave, but I held it back because I wasn’t fully aware of my feelings yet. Though I suppose the ink on my arm spoke louder than the words trying so hard to stay caged in my chest. I made the promise that day that we would see one another again.

Again came less than a year later, I remember when he started talking about coming to get me. Thing with my roommate at the time was becoming unstable. Alone in the apartment between my late night job and her being lost in her new relationship as she drifted away from me. He knew I was starting to slip into a bad place and one night, we just had a date. The very end of February my life was making a change again.

I started to pack, it felt like I was running from an abusive relationship once again. Which in hindsight it was, I would get chastised for not taking care of her pets while she spent whole weeks at her boyfriends who at that time she was pretending was just ‘a friend’ until near the last months they became an official thing. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving until the day I knew that he would be there, I spent the weekend we moved my things out in a blur. I left so many things behind because it was just a small jeep. The only thing that truly mattered was my cat.

I woke up in one state and by night time, I was now in Pittsburgh. Moving in with the same people who had come for him only months before. My life had made a change again and for a short time, I didn’t know if I would be able to handle it.

But then something happened, I got there. People said welcome home and it felt so good to hear those words. I saw my bed filled with stuffed animals and I fell into it. After months of feeling like I was just a burden and a live-in maid. I felt like I was actually in a place I could call home.

These people were a family who had come together, many in the same way I had shown up. A weaving web of relationships that all were different and wonderful. Slowly I learned how they all made things work on a daily basis and finding my own place. It took some time as I was healing from a lot of things, some days I was better than others.

Through all of it there was encouragement and support. I watch how the house was rocked with feelings when we lost a litter of kittens. Took care of one another when a plague of cold hit us all for a couple of weeks. Nights spent passing the controller to see what weird things we could find on YouTube. Days spent keeping the house in order so everyone was able to eat and get to work on time. I found myself fitting in better and better, my relationships with people growing more every day.

According to one of my partners, when it was asked of the family if I should be a part of it, it was unanimous and no one found any issue. I still remember the night they told me during a house meeting, there were tears. Finally, I had found where I wanted and needed to be. This was a place where I could flourish.

Even though we have moved, I still feel this way. Every day, every time we push through something together. I have never been in a place that I have felt more love and more friendship. They are my family, my people and I am thankful for them every day. I am likely going to write more about them and my life slowly. Feeling more open about it these days, so I hope you my readers enjoy the small look into my life.