Bob the Unicorn: When You Love Without Wanting to Own
TikTok video from 2023-09-28
It’s been a week since I saw Bob the Unicorn, and honestly? He’s still dancing around the edges of my thoughts like glitter—unexpected, sparkly, hard to brush off, and kind of everywhere I look.
And no, his name isn’t actually Bob. But that’s what I’m calling him for now because… well, he’s rare. He’s got that mythical, magical energy that doesn’t show up in your inbox every day. Thoughtful. Confident. Sexy in that grounded, not-trying-too-hard kind of way. Emotionally intelligent (which really should be the bare minimum, but in this world, it feels like a miracle). And—most importantly—he lets me be fully myself.
So yeah. He’s a unicorn.
But here's the thing that makes our connection feel even more special to me—and maybe a little unusual for him:
I don’t want to be his only one.
I don’t need exclusivity. I don’t crave it. I don’t even fantasize about it. Not with him. Not with anyone.
Because I’m polyamorous.
Not just in theory. Not just when it’s convenient. Not just when the feelings are light and the sex is good.
I’m polyamorous even when the connection is deep. Even when the chemistry is fire. Even when I catch myself thinking, “Wow, this one’s different.”
And Bob? He’s dating other women right now.
And you know what’s wild? All of them want him to be monogamous.
They want to “lock it down.” They want boyfriend status. They’re saying things like,
“That body is mine.”
“I don’t want you seeing anyone else.”
And he keeps gently explaining—he’s open. He’s in the lifestyle. He values his freedom. He values clarity.
And I just keep thinking how rare it is to meet someone like him—and how equally rare (apparently) it is to meet someone like me.
Because I don’t want to “have” him.
I don’t want to claim him like a prize.
I don’t want to pull him into the little box labeled “mine” and shrink the parts of him that crave expansion.
What I want is this:
To meet him where he is. To enjoy what we have. To let it unfold naturally.
To savor every stolen glance, every thoughtful text, every gorgeous, messy, sacred moment… without needing it to be forever or exclusive to feel real.
Last week, we had such a sweet, sexy, soul-filling time.
It was easy. It was honest. It was just us—no pressure, no performance. Just two people sharing space, sharing skin, sharing stories.
And now, we’re back in our own worlds.
He’s doing his thing. I’m doing mine.
But I know I’ll see him again in a few weeks, and that’s more than enough.
There’s something so freeing about this kind of love.
Something healing.
To love someone not because they’re “yours,” but because you see them—and they see you—and that seeing is enough.
Bob told me I was the only polyamorous person he’s dating right now.
And I told him, without flinching:
“That’s what makes me different. I don’t need to possess you to appreciate you.”
And maybe that’s what makes us such a rare match.
Not because we fit the traditional mold.
But because we don’t—and we’re both okay with that.
So for now, I’m enjoying the in-between.
The anticipation.
The aliveness of knowing that love can be expansive, honest, and non-monogamous—and still feel so good.
Bob the Unicorn, thank you for reminding me that real magic isn’t about exclusivity.
It’s about presence.
And I’m all in.
