This is my truth, this was the biggest lesson in my polyamorous journey and a warning to black girls like me who tend to love black men a little harder than they love themselves.

This is for black girls who carry the energy of Harley Quinn.

This is the story of how I met my Joker.

When I started writing Diary Of A Polyamorous Black Girl I was actually in a relationship. The person I was dating and I had decided that we wanted to keep our relationship off the internet for the most part. I briefly mentioned him and the fact he was a black man in one of my later entries of the diary, but outside of that nobody really knew that I was dating.

He and I met and began a sexual relationship almost instantly. We had so much in common, from our love of nerdy things like anime and videogames to our living situations and taste in music. What I found most intriguing about him though was how he was not put off at all at my being polyamorous. Most black men I would meet, who I would immediately inform I was polyamorous would either be put off entirely and end our interaction or saw me as their opportunity for threesomes and orgies. That wasn’t the case with him though. He shared his previous relationship woes with me, how he would often find himself in arguments with his partners due to what he saw as deeply rooted insecurities. He revealed to me that he just didn’t understand why his honesty wasn’t enough for his partners, he no longer wanted to be restricted in his interactions with women. He wanted the ability to be able to freely love and connect with people, and not ruin his relationship(s). It was then I began to suggest to him that he may be polyamorous. He was immediately overjoyed. We would fall into almost daily conversations that would last for hours, and I shared with him my desires for a love that was both black and polyamorous. We got to know each other on several intimate levels, he was remarkably charming, funny, uncomfortably handsome and most importantly to me at the time, he appeared to be naturally polyamorous - it didn’t take long for me to be completely smitten over him.

Before we decided to start dating, I had fallen in love with him. After a long day of amazing sex, we had fallen asleep while watching Good Will Hunting. With my hair matted, my chubby belly and my stretch marks completely exposed, I woke up before him and stared at him as he slept.

“I love this man”, I thought. He accepted my body that I never thought to be attractive. My awkward personality. My trauma. And he was poly just like me. I thought I had hit the jackpot. I had everything I ever wanted in a black man, and there he was lying next to me. So after he woke up I told him, I told him I had fallen in love. He didn’t say it back, which I also deeply appreciated because it was just further validation to me that he was an honest man who would never lie to me.

Boy, was I wrong

After some time, he professed to have fallen in love with me as well and we began dating. Now, as we had so many mutual friends, and I am such a private person, we decided to keep things quiet. For me this was a standard practice of almost all my adult relationships as I learned early on that it is important to keep things that are important to you sacred. I thought he shared that perspective but looking back, I realize his interest in privacy was less about privacy and more about secrecy so that he would be free to engage with other women in whichever way he wanted - But we’ll get to that later.

We would not post about each other online. Take pictures or attend events together. And only reveal our relationship to a very small trusted group of people. For the first few months this worked perfectly. We would go to the movies. Spend nights at each others home. Support each other in our professional careers. It was perfect. I had everything I wanted. I was happy.

Though there were red flags that I actively ignored throughout, the moment that things shifted for me was when he began to interact with a woman who he referred to as “staunchly monogamous”, let’s call her Jessica . He would disclose to me how Jessica did not understand polyamory, and it was something that was not at all for her. Learning of their interaction was deeply off-putting for me because in our conversations prior to us dating, he would outline all the ways in which monogamy was toxic in his life, and how he was no longer interested in engaging with monogamous women because of how incompatible his personality and desires for his life were with monogamy. I did not understand why he would at all be interested in engaging with a woman who seemed to be the polar opposite of everything he described he was seeking in a partner, It felt odd.

I let him know how odd it felt for me, but I could tell he liked her very much. I let him know that I would, of course, support him in any exploration of any relationship but I felt it was important for him to establish boundaries with her early on to avoid those toxic monogamous interactions he was so accustomed to in his previous relationships. He claimed to do so, but assured me that he was not interested in engaging with her romantically so establishing boundaries was not of any real importance. I would later learn that they began to interact sexually with one another. Again, I expressed my confusion and requested more transparency from him. And that if she was someone that he was going to engage with sexually, regardless of whether or not he was going to classify their relationship as just friendly that it was of the utmost importance of me to meet her so at the very least she would be clear on my boundaries and we could all have a conversation on safe sex.

He let me know that the sexual interactions between them were minuscule and they would not longer continue. And once again, described her as a friend. It was quickly becoming a sensitive topic, each time I would mention her and their interaction that became more and more obvious that they were romantic, he would get increasingly more frustrated and irritated by me. He would accuse me of seeing things that were not there and very quickly end the conversation.

I feel it’s important to note that at this time I had just been officially diagnosed as having a few mental illnesses, which I was quite sensitive about. When he would say things like “that never happened” or “you’re imagining things” I would immediately think of my diagnosis and wonder if he was correct and quiet myself. Looking back I realize how silly that was of me, as my mental illnesses do not cause hallucinations - I wasn’t imagining anything.

A few weeks passed, and I began to notice that Jessica was a staple in his life. Someone, he would check in with regularly about his daily activities, attend events with and sleepover at his house. The moment I knew it was far more than just a platonic friendship was when we were in bed one morning, and he received a barrage of text messages and a phone call. It was her. Something had happened, and he let her know that he was in bed with me and asked if she would like him to leave the room so they could speak privately, and he very quickly thereafter left the room.

Privacy is important and I certainly never would demand information on the intimate details of another person's life, but this behaviour was odd as he very frequently shared the intimate details of everyone in his life with me. I had grown accustomed to him having very personal conversations with everyone in his life right in front of my face, he would never leave the room, so when he did for someone he was adamant he had a platonic friendship with confused me deeply.

More things of that nature would go on. And because of his refusal to have conversations with me about it, and an almost resentment on his part that I would even dare ask him any questions about the nature of their relationship, and my fear of upsetting him, I began to bend the rules of our relationship. I began to engage in toxic behavior that I deeply regret to this day.

Months prior we both gave each other thumbprint access to each others iPhones. I can’t really remember the reason why but I could freely access his phone and he could freely access mine. I began to abuse that. Searching for answers he would not give me, hoping to quiet my constant anxiety about this bizarre secret relationship, I started reading his text messages with her.

In reading the text messages, it became painfully clear they were in a relationship.

I experienced an overwhelming wave of emotions. On the one hand, I was glad for the clarity. Knowing that I was not imagining anything. That I was right to ask to meet her and have a conversation on boundaries and sexual safety. That he had been hiding and lying. That I wasn’t crazy. But on the other hand, I was fucking furious. There was literally no reason for him to lie to me and carry on a secret relationship, obviously sharing private details of our relationship with someone who I knew very little about. But now I was in a pickle, I had gone through his phone, I had abused his trust - How was I going to talk about this without revealing my own bad deeds?

In writing this, I realize this should have been the end of our relationship. No healthy polyamorous relationship can be possible with a person like him. The lengths I had to go to in order to gain information that should have been freely given to me is insane..but…I digress.

I felt justified in going through his phone, and I knew if I revealed what I had done he would most likely flip everything and make it just about the fact that I had gone through his phone. So I decided the best way to go about it would be to reveal things in pockets and give him an opportunity to tell the truth about the real nature of their relationship. I own that this was remarkably manipulative on my part, and I should not have allowed his dishonest behavior to make me dishonest but I suppose the idealistic side of me wanted to believe there was some kind of reasonable explanation for this ridiculous lie, and really I just wanted us to go back to being okay, I wanted to be happy again.

I began to frequently bring her up in conversations, and ask him if he was being honest with me about the nature of their relationship. I would lie and tell him I saw a text message on his phone which said “Babe” or “Baby” or “Love” and in my experience that is not how platonic friends speak to one another, and that it’s important he be clear with me about who she really was to him so we all could meet and discuss things. Each and every time he would assure me that they were just friends and that’s just how she speaks to him.

The more opportunities I gave him to be honest, turned out to be more opportunities I was giving him to lie to me. I already knew what it was, I just wanted him to say it. What was going on was not at all what I wanted my poly life to be. And I became increasingly more concerned with my sexual safety. I began to carry rage with me towards him almost daily. I hated what he was doing. I hate what he was doing to us - I didn’t understand why.

The big turning point, when I realized I needed to end things happened on Boxing Day of last year. My parents were having their annual house party, and I really wanted him to meet my father (don’t ask me why) I was really excited because I knew in a few weeks I would have enough money to finally give him his real Christmas gift. He had mentioned he wanted to build a collection of game systems, so I found the one he wanted, in the colour he wanted, and I was on a payment plan with the owner of it - I had almost had it paid off. I made little cards with riddles on it and hidden them in my room to reveal what the gift was and that he would be receiving it soon. It was part of the reason I was so excited for him to come over. I was going to impress him. I was going to make him so happy because I worked hard to get him a gift he really wanted.

On the way to my house, we got into a conversation and he revealed to me that she had gotten him a gift…

Guess what it was.

(sigh)

I was furious.

My Christmas gift for him that I had been planning on for months he had already received from Jessica. I wasn't angry that she got him the gift, I was happy that he got something he wanted. My anger was rooted in further confirmation that he was continuing to lie to me. Continuing to have a relationship with someone that violated every single one of my boundaries, all of the things that I told him I didn't want to happen, he was purposely making happen. My hard work and research to get the gift could have been avoided had I been able to meet her months ago when I asked. Had we met, of course she and I would discuss the gifts we were going to get him for Christmas. Perhaps she and I could have gone together and bought the gift for him. We could have split the cost. It didn't have to be this weird moment where I was now deeply resentful and embarrassed. I know the lengths she must of had to go to in order to purchase it for him. And in that moment I understood how serious their relationship was.

Why couldn't he just tell me that they were together? Why the big elaborate lie? Weren't we in a polyamorous relationship? Why was everything about the two of them so secret and everything about he and I so exposed? If she was just as important as me or more important than me, then why wouldn't he want to create a safe space for their relationship to thrive? I was tired of arguing. I was tired of this awkwardness. This bizarre unknown space he had built between us. I didn't understand. He was making everything so difficult and for the first time ever in my romantic relationship with a man, I found myself feeling hatred.

I had no real reason to hate Jessica . None of this was her fault and I could only imagine what perfectly crafted stories he was feeding her. For some reason though, I felt she was just as guilty as he was. Wasn't she curious about me as I was curious about her? Why was she playing his game? I was convinced she was plotting to hurt me. I hated her just a little bit more than I hated him.

I didn't know what to do. I felt empty and broken...So naturally, I got drunk.

And the next morning, things went from bad to worse.

Things did not get better in the morning. There was another layer to this story. He had been betraying my trust in another way that I could have never imagined. My mother called me into the kitchen and said “Do you know he has people on the phone when y'all are arguing?” I didn’t understand. “People on the phone mom?. What do you mean?”

She told me that last night while I was bouncing around the house in my drunken stupor that they had gotten into a conversation. A few things came up, mostly centered around my drinking, and how much he didn’t like it. And then it went to a space where he revealed to my mother how unreasonable I am in arguments, how much I overwhelm him so unreasonable that he had to put a friend of his on the phone, muted on three way while I was “irrationally yelling” at him one day just as proof of the “abuse” he was being subjected to.

I almost didn’t believe her. It seemed insane quite honestly. Rather than have a conversation with me about how he felt when we argued he thought it was healthy behavior to secretly have someone on the phone during a vulnerable private moment between he and I? And who was this person? How many arguments and conversations had they been quietly listening in on? I felt so violated. On so many different levels. My mental health began to spiral out of control. I felt trapped.

I confronted him on all of his betrayals. He revealed to me that the woman on the phone was one of his lovers (whom months prior he had suggested we enter into a triad with), let’s call her Melissa. He let me know that he “had to” have her on the phone to know whether or not he was right or wrong in the argument. Melissa told him that he was right and I was being unreasonable so that then justified her being on the phone and violating my privacy. Never mind what I said, thought or felt. Melissa agreed with his assessment of me, and so from that day forward it now was a fact for him in our relationship, a fact that he could use as a counter to anything he would later to do to me and the relationship, those things had become fine in that moment, it was okay for him to hurt me because I was overwhelming and unreasonable - I was too intense.

Regarding his relationship with Jessica, for whatever reason, he finally admitted that they had been getting to know each other romantically. I received no apology for the months of arguing and lying, my thinking I had gone crazy or the damage done to my mental health. He just moved on to explain to me that and that she and I could not meet right now because she “was not ready” and he wanted to respect that. When I expressed my disappointment and hurt by this, he reminded me of how overwhelming I am as a person and ended the conversation.

Rather than get into the nitty-gritty details of the trauma that went on for the next few months, I’ll just give you the edited version.

After weeks of arguments between He and I, he told me he gave Jessica an ultimatum. That if she continued to refuse to meet me, that he would not speak to her until she agreed to meet me. I let him know that I thought this was not the healthiest way to handle things and that perhaps he should investigate why Jessica did not want to meet me. He ignored my comments on the matter, and weeks later would tell me that he had cut off communication with her but she was obsessively messaging him, inquiring about his whereabouts. Adding that this is why he’s pleased with his decision to conclude their interaction. Probably about the 5th or 6th time he mentioned her obsessive messaging to him, and how "crazy" she was, I realized I was ignoring an excellent opportunity. An opportunity to tell her how angry I was at her but mostly an opportunity to speak to her so we could compare notes. Perhaps I could finally find out the truth. Following a moment where he had entered into his "Women Are Crazy" monologue, I offered myself up as the good angry girlfriend and I requested her phone number. He gave it to me and I ended up sending her a mildly rude message. I still carried rage and somehow blamed her for all of this. I recognize I should have approached her differently and perhaps she and I could have walked away from him in a healthier way but I was clearly in a dark toxic place at this point. However, I do feel I had a right to my rage, (but that's a whole other topic)

Jessica responded to my less than friendly message and revealed quite a bit. Mostly things I knew already about his dishonesty but the details she knew about my personal life and what he really thought about me were the most devastating. Jessica let me know that he had been telling her I was in the way of their relationship. That he was desperately trying to end things with me for months. That I was obsessive; controlling and insecure. Jessica knew about the night I cried myself to sleep and argued with my mother. She told me things that I recall him yelling at me during our worst fights. Jessica was entitled. She was speaking to me in the exact way I was speaking to her.

He, of course, called her a liar. Said that nothing she said was true and said that I could be assured of that because he had had Melissa on the phone during a few conversations where she admitted to her lies. And all I would have to do was speak to Melissa so that she could confirm Jessica's dishonesty and insanity.

Melissa on the phone again? Melissa's word was law again? What the hell was going on? Things were out of control. I was out of control for still even being involved in this clusterfuck of a situation. And wanting to be there. I wanted to be with him still - What was wrong with me?

The final betrayal happened quickly and unexpectedly. Because I'm stupid, I decided to push down the trauma of the past year and half deep down. I was going to ignore everything, forgive him and move forward. He had said sorry and the other woman was gone and from what I could tell he was being more transparent about his partners now. Maybe everything that had happened was just a little bump in the road? And even if it wasn't, he had to be thankful to me for just moving past everything right? If ignored everything that happened he couldn't call me intense and overwhelming anymore right?

Wrong!

Throughout our relationship, the woman who had been on the phone (Melissa) was always an awkward element. When we started dating they were sexual with one another, and then that stopped because of certain responsibilities in her life she could not be available to him as frequently as other women could be. At that point, he told me they were just really good friends and not at all sexual with one another. Though he was present for her he was never present for me. Remarkably attentive and sensitive to her needs, even at the expense of me and my needs at times. He had been encouraging me for a long time to spend time with her and build a friendship, but I was really consumed with other things and not really interested in making new friends. Further to that, it takes me a very long time to warm up to people, to trust people and allow them into my life - This seemed to bother him very much. Following the incident, with her being on the phone I was very uncomfortable with continuing to get to know her at the level I had been getting to know her previously. That among other things he revealed to me that indicated a bankruptcy in her morality. But because she was someone I knew was probably never going to leave her life, I decided I was going to try and get to know her and eventually when I was comfortable to unpack everything I was uncomfortable about.

One day though, I noticed I had been deleted and blocked by her on every single social media channel. This was very odd to me because as far as I knew we had no disagreement. No argument. Nothing had happened. Outside of my conversations with him about my apprehension in getting to know her, there was nothing I could point to that would cause her to want to cut me out of her life in such a way. I asked him about it, and he was mad almost immediately. Almost as if he knew something I didn’t and wanted to avoid the conversation so to not say what he knew. I couldn’t let this go though. She had recently moved and I was preparing a package for her. I needed to clear this up because if this person no longer wanted to communicate with me I should probably not send them a package. And it all just felt so strange to me. Like everything that has happened between the Joker and I. Why were the things that appeared so simple to me always overly complicated and dramatic? Why was he always trying to quiet me when I asked questions? What was I missing? He shut things down and forbade me from asking him anything further about it. So , I decided to send her an email. To which she let me know that she would be willing to have a conversation as to why she was cutting me out of her life, only if he was on the phone as well.

I didn’t understand. What did he have to do with anything? My anxiety began to rage again like it has throughout my relationship with this man. When I told him what she had said he said he had no idea. I asked him (although I suppose I knew the answer) if he had shared with her anything I said to him privately about her, I asked him this question more than once. He assured me he did not.

He lied.

When the three of us got on the phone, I sensed her hostility and resentment that she even had to speak to me and explain herself. She began by letting me know that she wanted to build a friendship with me but was disappointed that I was not making the same effort as she was. She felt as though the only points of communication that she and I would have would be for me to “pry” information from her about him. Which I suppose is partially true. I did often ask her questions that he would not answer but she had positioned herself in the relationship in that way. I saw that as her role. He would direct me to her to as the "law" on almost everything. "Just ask Melissa. She'll tell you" He would say anytime I would question him on things. And so I would promptly ask her. And she would answer, every time. Never once indicating that she had a problem with it. Was the onus not on her to let me know if she was uncomfortable with anything I asked her? And further to that, not everyone builds friendships the same way so what exactly did she mean I wasn't putting the in the same level of effort? I was confused.

Melissa went on to tell me that the Joker had revealed to her that I didn’t trust her following the phone incident and she was angry that I never said anything about it. My mind switched from her to him in an instant and I began to ask him why would lie to me about that and put me on the phone with this girl with misinformation about what the scope of the situation was. I was now having to explain myself to someone (who violated me) I was not ready to explain myself to. It then turned into the two of them going back in forth about all the ways in which I had apparently ruined my relationship with this woman, as well as simultaneously revealing how close they actually were.

I again was furious.

Following that conversation I called him, hoping that he would be apologetic and give me some sort of explanation. That didn’t happen. He blamed everything on me. Said that situation had nothing to do with him. And the reason why he didn’t reveal to me that he had been revealing my private comments to him about my lack of trust of her was because I was far too intense of a person and when we speak I overwhelm him and make him forget things.

I was clearly dealing with a gaslighter and a narcissist.

He elected to stop answering my phone calls and ignore me for over a week. I had grown used to this type of behavior as it was a common practice of his throughout our entire relationship when I would confront him on his various betrayals. He would cut off all communication with me, despite him knowing how triggering being ignored was for my mental health. During those times I wouldn’t sleep or eat and I would engage in various self-harming behavior.

It was then I realized it was over. And that it had been over for quite some time. I had been dating a liar. I had been hurting myself. I had gotten to a very dark and violent place. And ultimately, what I truly realized is that I wasn’t even in a relationship with a polyamorous man - I mean, how could he be? How can you be polyamorous if you actively engage in such dishonest and manipulative behavior?

This man had successfully convinced two women (that I know of) that I was a bad person. That I had been controlling and jealous and so deeply insecure that I was attempting to come in the way of him and their relationships (even though I did not even know they were in relationships) I can’t even imagine all the stories he’s told them about me or how many conversations they were listening in on that would provide them with all the “evidence” they need to support his deep deep manipulative tactics. Those are things I can never forgive him for. I’ve had a relatively smooth reputation up until this point. And now women are harmed because of what he has lead them to believe about me.

Part of what I love about polyamory is community. The ability to build a sisterhood with other women. I sought honesty and boundaries from him in his relationships with other partners to create a healthy space between he and I, to create a healthy space for their relationships and quite honestly to build community with those women. If we were all on the same page. If he was just honest with me about his partners. If we could have just all spoken and established boundaries that made us all comfortable I feel like none of this would have happened.

None of this had to happen.

When he finally decided he could speak to me I told him I felt I no longer had a place in his life. That his behavior over the past year and a half has shown me that he does not even like me as a human being and that I no longer wanted to be with him or have a friendship with him. He agreed to end things.

I learned that when something doesn’t feel right, it’s probably not right. When someone lies to you, you don’t wait, you don’t ask questions, you leave. You can not be polyamorous and be a liar. I was in a relationship with someone who was a liar, and who used polyamory as a way to facilitate his lies.

Polyamory is about honesty, and he was dishonest from the start. Because I saw the dishonesty and allowed it to continue I think I indirectly told him that I was okay with that behavior so he got really crafty with it and became emotionally abusing me in a way i’ve never even heard of before. When people ask about me and him it's always so hard to explain how deeply I was manipulated and gaslit. The things I did for him and how far I was willing to go to make him see I was worthy of more than lies. How on some level I thought I deserved some of the behaviour because I wasn’t being the best partner I could be for him. His comments about my intensity and my being “too much” still roll around in my head.

Looking back I think I convinced myself if i didn’t stay with him then I would be proving everyone who told me polyamory and black men would not work right. I would be living proof that it’s impossible to have a true polyamorous relationship with a black man. I would be a liar. It sounds silly but I truly felt that way.

I now know that he was just one man. One man who misled me. One man who I allowed to stay in my life far past his expiry date, causing me to engage in toxic behavior that violated many of my moral codes.

Right now I’m in a better place. I’ve learned so much and I will not make the same mistakes ever again. I did not deserve what happened to me.

I hope that anyone reading this, any woman exploring polyamory or non-monogamy remembers that no level of dishonesty is acceptable. If your partner is lying to you, understand they are not polyamorous and end the relationship. Don’t allow yourself to fall into a dark space as I did. Don’t allow yourself to mirror the behavior of the toxic person in your life. Honor yourself. You deserve to be told the truth. You deserve to be respected. Polyamory does not exist if it is not existing in a space of honesty.

I am so thankful that I have found my black polyamorous community. That I have had the honor and privilege of meeting black men who are truly polyamorous. They have taught me so much and I’m so thankful. They give me hope that one day I will meet more black men who will not lie to me and share with me the black and polyamorous love that I so desperately seek.

Of course, I didn’t refer to myself as a polyamorous person until I discovered there was actually a name for the way I felt about relationships - it was simply who I was.

When puberty began and my vagina began to pulsate randomly and my nipples developed a mind of their own, I started to think of myself as a sexual being. I began to explore other beings romantically and sexually and through that exploration, realized that my natural understanding of relationships differed greatly from the people around me.

My best friend moved when I was in elementary school and I remember sharing my strong feelings for a few boys in my class with a girl I started playing with at recess. I pointed out all the boys I liked to her and began to describe in detail all the reasons why I thought they were great. Before I could finish describing my feelings for the 3rd boy she cut me off and quite sternly told me that I “couldn’t” like all of those boys. I didn’t understand what she meant by “couldn’t”... I knew I wasn’t lying, I did like all of those boys, and I liked them at the exact same time. I tried to explain my feelings to her but she thought I was ridiculous. She promptly told me that Girls that like more than one boy at the same time are sluts, and she doesn’t hang around sluts. She never spoke to me again but wasted no time in sharing how despicable and “slutty” I was to the rest of my classmates. I liked a lot of boys, so that meant I was a slut. I didn’t quite understand it, but I was not going to pretend that I did not like all the boys that I did. I was very confused as to what exactly the problem was. That was my first, but certainly not my last, experience of being judged and shamed for being honest about liking several boys at the same time.

As I got older I learned to be a bit more strategic in the way I communicated what I instinctively knew I wanted both romantically and sexually, particularly because every time I shared how I really felt and what I really wanted in a relationship, it was immediately associated with promiscuity. It became overwhelmingly hurtful to be judged so often, especially for something that felt so natural and pure for me, so I decided I would be very careful about who I shared my desires with. It wasn’t until I was in college that I even discovered Polyamory and the Polyamorous community.

The word Polyamory means many/several loves and it is “the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships where individuals may have more than one partner, with the knowledge and consent of all partners”.

You can’t imagine my joy when I found out about Polyamory. Having spent years wandering around with these feelings, and with the desire for multiple concurrent relationships with a combination of people bottled up inside, I suffered deep and dark feelings of isolation. After some years I had convinced myself that I had to learn monogamy if I was ever going to have a “normal” life. I knew I wanted to be married and have children and just experience love. But because I had not found anyone that saw love in the way that I saw it, there must be something wrong with my way of thinking… right? So, when I found out there was an entire Polyamorous community I was so happy that I was wrong in thinking nobody saw love and relationships as I did, and burned any thought of monogamy that had been bouncing around in my head.

Now that I knew the name for what I was, I began to search the internet looking for my community. I found dating websites geared specifically towards Polyamorous people as well as monthly meetups in my city. I decided since I was “technically” new to the community and wasn’t familiar with the appropriate language for certain things, that it would be best if I took things slow and started with the dating websites.

I eagerly made my profile, posted my picture and filled my about me section with large paragraphs describing my history of being Polyamorous without knowing what Polyamory was. I was so happy.

Then I got my first message.

It was from a white couple. I read the subject line before I opened the message and it read “ Seeking Ebony ”. The language made me incredibly uncomfortable, but I decided to read it anyway. The couple described in detail how impressed they were with my profile and my apparent intellectual prowess. Translation? “You speak so well”. They went on to say that for long they have been looking for a girlfriend so they could form a triad, but they specifically wanted a “smart black girl” because they are both incredibly attracted to black women, and so far had been disappointed on the site due to the “lack of intellect” on the profiles of black women …. So they must "have" me...

I immediately deleted the message and sat quietly for a while. I was probably about 19 at this time, and though my parents had provided me with literature and political discussions at the dinner table on the subject of race, I was certainly not the person I am today, so I had quite a difficult time processing the message. I knew I didn’t like what I read but I wasn’t sure if I should be angry about it. I had just discovered a community of people like me… and then I get this message. What did it mean? Was this my community or wasn’t it? I decided that it was just one bad message and that I shouldn’t make a big deal about it. I logged off and didn’t check the site until a few days later. When I logged back on I had over 200 messages in my inbox. They were all from white couples or single white men and all the messages resembled the first one I received. Remarks on my intellect, my skin color, my hair. Now at this time of my life, I was not completely closed off to being with a white man, but I also knew that I did not want to be anyone's black plaything. I decided to delete my profile and forget about Polyamory for a while.

Some time went on and I indeed had pushed Polyamory into the back of my mind. I reluctantly entered into a series of monogamous relationships. Within those relationships, I made attempts to create spaces where polyamory, or at least some kind of openness, would be possible but it always ended horribly. The men I dated were completely interested in sleeping with other women and carrying on relationships with other women, but I was not allowed to do the same with other men. It was frustrating. I still felt polyamorous, but what was the point of being polyamorous if I had nobody with whom I could be polyamorous.

The last monogamous relationship I was in was a complete disaster, mostly because I tried so desperately to make it work. I wasn’t initially willing to try another monogamous relationship again, but I also knew I didn’t want to be alone, so I had to make it work. Combine that desperation with an incredibly abusive partner and you have quite a disastrous relationship.

After it ended, I knew without a doubt that monogamy wasn’t for me and I was also certain that I couldn’t be the only black polyamorous person on the planet.

So much time had passed at this point that I was very solid in my politics and what I wanted for my life, and I knew that it in no way, shape or form, involved any type of romantic interaction with white bodies. My experience and my education had taught me that there was no way the gaze on my body was not going to be oppressive. I had to find black polyamorous people.

I understood now that there was a general social stigma when it came to Polyamory. That the wider society viewed Polyamorous people as incredibly promiscuous and the entire lifestyle centered around sex - which couldn't be further from the truth. A classmate of mine had shared with me that she knew of a few polyamorous people that frequented a local adult play lounge. She suggested I check it out - and I did.

What I found was more disappointment. My first few nights at the lounge, I saw not one single black person and was subjected to the same racist sexual gaze I experienced on the dating site, only this time it was in real life so it was that much more painful and dangerous to navigate through. I saw some black guys a few nights, but they were not at all interested in me, nor were they polyamorous, they were only interested in “sexually free” white women who would participate in group sex.

I don’t attend the lounge anymore ( maybe on special occasions for the pool ) and I am not as disappointed as I once was.

I’ve learned that in a lot of ways, Polyamory is a privilege. A privilege that most black people are not able to explore. Because we exist in a monogamous society, one must have a certain degree of access to explore anything outside of what our immediate environment teaches us - Black People have little access to almost everything. I didn’t even know about Polyamory until I was in college. Surviving in a white supremacist society is difficult enough, and there is not enough knowledge or support of Polyamory in the lives of black people to even make it seem like a viable relationship option. Additionally, there is a huge socioeconomic element involved in the most basic exploration of polyamory as the community does exist in the shadows to some degree, and one must be able to meet the financial demands to enter into those shadows (similarly to the kink community). Ultimately though, black people like to know that other black people exist in the spaces that they are entering. I know the first thing I do when I walk into a room is to look for another black person. I feel safe as soon as I see them. Currently, white is the face of Polyamory and has been for quite some time. It more than likely will remain that way. The face of the world is white - why wouldn't the poly community be the same?

I still have hope that I will find black polyamorous people somewhere and that I will have the romantic relationships I have always wanted.

One day. :)

Some days, I feel like I’m doing all the right things and surviving.

Other days, I’m just floating, no thoughts, no direction, faint pulse.

December 2023, I was constructively dismissed from my management role for doing the job I was hired to do, advising my employer that, in order to align with the organization’s stated mandate, a public statement in support of Palestine should be released.

They disagreed.

They questioned my expertise (the same expertise they hired me for).

They called Palestinians terrorists.

They told me I didn’t know what I was talking about.

They accused me of being aggressive, confrontational and worse.

(I’ll get into the outrageous details of the anti-Black racism, financial fraud, and misogynoir in a paid post soon.)

Since then, I haven’t been able to find consistent employment. I’ll land a consulting gig here and there, but mostly, I’ve been completely unemployed, financially hanging on by a thread so thin and so worn, it has mold on it.

So yes, this newsletter/blog/thingy is partly about survival. But it’s also about a lot more than that.

I’m a full-time caregiver for my aging mother.

Not having a stable income has made everything harder, for both of us.

You learn a lot about yourself (and the people around you) when you’re struggling to pay bills and feed yourself (and your dog)

But I feel like that learning hits different when you’re polyamorous.

The combination of no money and 24/7 caregiving took up so much space that I couldn’t keep up with the emotional maintenance of certain relationships. My energy and patience ran dry, and I realized: reciprocity wasn’t happening.

Because I wasn’t performing my usual emotional labor, because I couldn’t be as available as I once was, those relationships fell apart. Quickly

It was devastating.

And also… freeing.

What I uncovered was that the distress I carried in certain relationships wasn’t just about me being unwell, or too traumatized, or “bad at polyamory” like some folks would have me believe. It was about me creating and maintaining one-sided connections.

I stayed in relationships with people who liked my humour and my softness, who enjoyed having me around as long as I was cooperative and useful. But they had no real desire to meet my needs. Not emotionally. Not practically. Not at all. And that part, the staying too long, the over-giving, that part is on me.

What can I say.. I’m a flawed, experimenting, person (Poor Things is a great movie)

So heres the thing..

I like knowing what’s happening.

Why I’m yelling.

Why I’m crying.

Why I’m hurt.

Why I need to be held.

I like to understand myself.

But for the last few years, I haven’t known why.

It’s like that framework..

• the things you know

• the things you know you don’t know

• and the things you don’t know you don’t know

I didn’t know I didn’t know.

Only now am I beginning to piece together the blurry puzzle of unknown unknowns (cue that Boondocks clip).

Like:

• I give too much to men who tell me they love me, even when I know they’re lying.

• I’m afraid of getting close to women.

• I don’t know what it feels like to be cared for in the ways I need.

I’ve been meaning to write this intro post for eight months.

Since launching this Substack, life has been doing what life does:

• My mom had a full shoulder replacement.

• I unexpectedly got accepted into the 2nd best social work grad program in the world.

• My dog has been regressing in her training

• I ended a significant relationship

• I went to a fertility clinic

• My book is still not done.

So writing here felt impossible. But here we are.

I’m writing something.

Finally.

Anyway…

The internet used to feel like home. A safe, honest place. But lately, it hasn’t felt safe. And I’m not sure I belong here anymore. So this Substack is me trying to find my way back. And like I said.. it’s also about: Getting a coin (because… hello)

What to Expect Here

The goal:

5 posts a week.

• 1 free post

• 4 paid posts

(Which I think is fair—my big head brain and annoying personality are free all over the internet already.)

This is also secretly a fundraiser. I’m trying to launch an advocacy group.

Content will include:

• Rambles

• Academic breakdowns

• Film nerd moments

• Audio/podcast-style entries

• Book reviews

• Big feelings

• Small chaos

• All of the above

Okay. I think that’s chaotic enough.

K thanks bye.

💋

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