Polyamory san francisco dating
She dated the way a lot of people date in the city, juggling multiple partners without any real forward movement.
If she did end up in a monogamous relationship, the same thing would happen when she hit the six- or eight-month mark: she'd cheat. There she met a man at a conference who was "super polyamorous," she says.
While "couple privilege" is a concept meant to be resisted by people trying to ethically navigate nonmonogamy, I also saw it as the larger macro lens through which the media reports on these relationships: always through the eyes of the couple, with a tinge of titillation (ethical cheating, sexy!
On the other hand, "when my sexual and intimacy needs are being met, I feel whole, like I'm not approaching [new] men from a place of need or desperation," she says.
Although it's hard for many to imagine being a sort of auxiliary lover as anything other than agony—as a competition for time with an adversary who holds the best cards: the years together, the marriage certificate, the kids—Beth and many of the other women I talked to said it's much easier being, shall we say, number two rather than number one.
Beth*, a 37-year-old therapist in San Francisco who's currently dating a couple (sexual with the man, "romantic" but not sexual with the woman), is of two minds about the settling question.
She worries that she isn't leaving herself open for the primary relationship she'd eventually like to have because other men will be turned off by what she's doing.
But they didn't have to play the classic mistress role, either.