In, Out, and Evolving: What Polyamory Looks Like Right Now
Oh, loves. It feels so good to be back in this space with you.
There’s something about sitting down—coffee nearby, a soft playlist humming in the background, and this blinking cursor—that helps me process the glorious, messy swirl of polyamorous life. Sometimes it feels like I’m juggling planets. Other times it’s like I’m floating in a constellation of kisses, growth, boundary-checks, and unexpected tenderness.
And so—because it’s been a minute—here’s the long-awaited journal update on who’s in, who’s out, and who’s orbiting in my universe right now.
Let’s start with the men who have stayed steady in my life.
Orion—my earthy, dependable, steady love.
We’ve been connected for over four and a half years now, and his presence continues to anchor me. Seeing him recently reminded me just how nourishing that kind of long-standing connection can be. There’s a rhythm to our bond—something gentle and grounding, like a favorite sweater you didn’t realize you missed until you put it back on.
Chiron—my soulful, poetic, off-the-beaten-path love.
I posted a video when he came into town recently, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so big. He’s not just a lover—he’s a part of my soul. We’ve been connected for years, though our time together is sporadic. I made cakes for his stepdad for Father’s Day (yes, actual cakes, homemade with love), and delivering them felt like a small act of devotion—one of those quiet gestures that say, “I see you. I love you. Always.”
We’re not conventional. But we are true.
And sometimes, that’s more than enough.
Now, for the heartaches and endings.
Sapio and I are no longer together.
I’ve already shared a little about that, but I want to say again—it was painful. And necessary.
There was beauty in what we shared. There was also tension, resistance, and repeated patterns that no longer served either of us. I’m still holding gratitude. Still learning. Still softening around the edges of that goodbye.
My Cub? Oh yes, he’s sniffing around again.
No, I haven’t responded.
Sometimes silence is an act of self-love.
Sometimes the past should stay the past—especially when it only ever felt like a maybe that never quite landed.
Luke and I did a couple of “swaps” and had our casual fun.
And remember the Speed Skater?
Six weeks after I blocked him, he popped back up in my inbox like nothing had ever happened. I gave him a very calm, clear explanation of why I’d chosen to walk away.
And then…
He sent me a dick pic.
And just like that—blocked again.
Because no, sir. I’m not a vibe you get to disrespect twice.
Now for the fun part. The new magic. The unfolding stories.
I ventured back onto Tinder. Yes, I know. But sometimes the algorithm surprises you. And this time? It brought me three delightful men, each completely different, each stirring something fresh in me.
Let’s just say, our dynamic is exploratory.
There’s a sensual tension there—flirty, playful, with just enough power play to make it interesting. He calls out a side of me that’s more direct, more dominant, more willing to name what I want.
We’re still figuring each other out.
But something tells me he’s going to challenge and delight me in equal measure.
I need to rename him, because he is not a “Bob.” He’s too smooth, too insightful, too intriguing.
He’s already met Orion and Ami—which is a big deal in my world. That kind of integration matters to me. When my people meet and connect, it creates something stable and beautiful.
Bob and I are still new, but something about him feels familiar.
He’s got his own edges, his own mysteries. I like that. I’m curious.
And then there’s the man who speaks to me in flavor.
We haven’t rushed. We talk about food, wine, and body memory. The conversations are sensual, but never performative. It’s like foreplay through metaphor—arugula and oysters and dark chocolate melting on the tongue.
He just met my husband and my husband’s girlfriend. It was lovely. Easy. Flowing.
It’s been a long time since I connected with someone this way—through taste, through ritual, through reverence.
It’s not explosive. It's a slow burn. And I am so here for it.
If you’ve made it this far and still don’t quite know what’s going on, let me catch you up.
I’m Lisa, the Poly Wife.
My husband and I opened our marriage five years ago.
We practice Kitchen Table polyamory, meaning we date independently—but our worlds are still woven. Lovers meet lovers. Friends blend into their chosen family. We share meals, stories, and sometimes even Airbnb’s.
It’s not chaos. It's a carefully crafted connection.
It takes work. And honesty. And constant calibration.
But for me, it’s the most aligned way to love.
So that’s the current constellation:
A few long-standing stars.
Some newly ignited comets.
A couple of shooting stars who flamed out fast.
And me—right here, learning to orbit myself first.
I’ll be back with more stories. More details. More juicy, messy, beautiful truths about what it’s like to love this way.
Until then, tell me:
What would you like to hear more about?
