Story Time: When Polyamory Meets Perception
Last night was one of those evenings that starts with kindness and connection and ends with a few big takeaways. One of my girlfriends had a rough day, so I invited her over. Nothing fancy—just dinner, warmth, and some company. Sapio (my boyfriend) was coming over too, and in my world, sharing love and care is what makes polyamory so fulfilling. I thought, why not bring a little light to her day?
We’d joked around about doing a wax play scene. Sapio hasn’t done wax in a while—funny enough, she was the last person he did it with. If you’ve never tried wax play, it’s this beautiful, sensory experience. It’s hot. It stings. It forces you out of your mind and into your body. And after a hard day, it can feel like a reset button—comforting, centering, even therapeutic.
So they did the scene, and then came aftercare—something that's incredibly important in any kind of BDSM or impact play. It’s a time to nurture, reconnect, and hold space for the person who just experienced something intense. I set them up on the couch. Gave them a cozy space to land. To me, it was beautiful—two people I care about connecting, supporting each other.
But what happened after was unexpected and, honestly, enlightening.
Later that night and into the next day, I discovered that both of them felt… weird. They weren’t sure if it was okay to be that close, to be affectionate, to touch and comfort each other—in front of me. They both struggled with the idea that they were somehow crossing a line, even though I had created that space intentionally.
It hit me: as much as I live and breathe this polyamorous life, not everyone around me does. And even when they’re with me, in my world, they still carry their own scripts about what’s "appropriate," what’s "too much," and what might hurt someone else—even when I’m smiling and cheering them on from two feet away.
This is what made me pause.
Because I felt joy watching them connect. I felt comfort seeing her nurtured and him in his element as a giver. But they didn’t know that. They were each navigating their own internal fears and assumptions. And none of us talked about it until later.
Polyamory, for me, is about abundance. It’s about sharing. It’s about being secure enough in love to watch someone you adore care for someone else—and feel pride, not panic. But not everyone knows that. Not everyone’s lived that.
So this experience was a powerful reminder: communication is everything. Even when you think you’ve created a safe space, sometimes you have to say the quiet part out loud: “This is okay with me. I want this for you. You are safe.”
Now, I’m even more committed to making sure the people in my life know how I love—loudly, openly, and without jealousy. I don’t just tolerate these kinds of moments, I celebrate them. But I need to say that more clearly.
So that’s part one of this little revelation. Part two? Oh, it gets juicier. But more on that soon.
