When Chemistry Changes Everything: On New Lovers, Slut-Shaming, and Staying Poly Grounded
TikTok video from 2023-11-30
Okay, journal time, babe.
Let’s talk about The New Guy.
I’ve been calling him The Fiduciary—which I admit is kind of hilarious and also wildly vague, but I haven’t landed on a better name yet. He messaged me on FetLife. Standard stuff: “Hey, I’m in town, your profile’s interesting, wanna get together?”
Now normally, I don’t do random meetups. It’s just not my vibe. I don’t hook up casually without conversation, connection, clarity. So I wrote him back politely—something along the lines of, “Thanks, but I’m not your girl for a quick one-nighter. Plenty of amazing women here are, though—good luck!”
Very grown-up. Very friendly. End of story, right?
Wrong.
The next day, I reached out (because yes, I’m that kind of community-minded poly girl) to ask if he’d found someone to connect with, or at least had a good time. Turns out he spent the night with his son and some friends, partied till 2 AM, and was still in town. No pressure, he said—he’d love to meet, even just for a drink.
So I said yes. Because why not?
We met. He had some friends with him. They’d been playing pickleball (cute), and by the time I arrived, he looked a little dazed. First words out of his mouth:
“I’m not a drinker, this is like my second drink, and I need food or I’m going to fall over.”
Which, honestly? Same. I was staring at my rum runner thinking, If I don’t get a burger in me soon, I’m gonna end up horizontal. So we grabbed food.
And then… something shifted.
Almost instantly, I felt it.
That pull. That chemistry.
I wanted to touch him—his knees, his thighs—just be near him. I asked for consent (because duh), and he smiled and said, “I love touch.”
From there, the energy flowed.
We ordered. We had the same top two choices.
We talked. We laughed.
We connected like we’d known each other forever.
And weirdly? He reminded me of my husband in the best ways. That’s a theme with me. Even when they’re strangers, there’s a familiar thread.
Spoiler: it turned into a hookup.
But let me say this—before anything happened, I told him clearly:
“I don’t want to have sex. No intercourse. I’m up for other things, but that’s a hard line.”
He respected it. No hesitation. But he asked me why.
And that question cracked something open in me.
Because I paused.
And then I realized—I was slut shaming myself.
I had this number in my head. A running tally of lovers I’ve had this year. And I realized I was starting to judge myself for it. Not from the outside—no one was shaming me. It was internal. This subtle voice whispering, Is that too many? Should you slow down? Should you care?
And the truth is: Half of those lovers are ongoing connections. Intimate, beautiful, deep. But some? Just didn’t stick. One-time experiences that taught me something, even if they didn’t turn into anything lasting.
So I looked at him and said, “I think I’m slut-shaming myself. And I don’t want to do that.”
He nodded. Held space. Told me about a recent STI scare he had—thankfully, it was nothing, but it had made him extra cautious. He’d just finished a full round of antibiotics and had fresh results from a full panel, done three weeks prior.
So we did the thing.
And it. was. amazing.
Like, life-pausing, mind-melting chemistry.
The kind that makes you blink at the ceiling after and wonder if the universe just rerouted your whole damn love map.
He’s my height. We fit. Literally and energetically.
I don’t say this lightly, but it was the first time I ever truly considered sexual monogamy.
Yes, me—Lisa the Poly Wife.
I had sex with this man and, mid-pleasure, I thought, What if I only had this? Would that be enough?
Now, don’t panic—I haven’t changed. But it did show me something real: connection this deep is rare. And it deserves attention.
Afterward? He extended his trip two more days.
He booked a flight to come back and spend Christmas with me.
He’s looking at flying me out to visit him.
And here I am, giddy as hell and trying not to lose my poly girl mind.
But I’m also aware.
He’s new to all this. He’s never done polyamory before. He loves the idea of it. Is fascinated. Curious. Eager.
And that, my dear, is a yellow flag.
Because loving the idea of poly is one thing. Living it is another. And many monogamous men think they can handle it… until they can’t. Until they feel it.
So for now? We’re planning. We’re talking. We’re exploring.
He might just join my stable. We’ll see.
Luke’s in town this week too, and there’s an event we might both go to. Which feels grounding, honestly. Luke is my blueprint for clear boundaries, open communication, and safe, playful exploration. His voice is always in the back of my mind, reminding me how to do this with integrity.
So yeah. New guy. New spark. New lessons.
Let the games begin.
Want me to follow up with a post on NRE (new relationship energy) or navigating poly with monogamous newcomers? This could turn into a perfect series for folks just entering the poly world.
