If You Related to Francesca Bridgerton’s Orgasm Difficulties, You’re Not Alone

Season 4 of Netflix’s Bridgerton, based on the book series of the same name by Julia Quinn, focuses primarily on the love story between Benedict Bridgerton and Sophie Baek. However, the subplot follows Francesca Bridgerton and her new husband, John Stirling, as they navigate sexual challenges in their marriage. Specifically, Francesca experiences orgasm difficulties: she’s unable to climax and she never has.

Fair warning: this post contains spoilers for Bridgerton, including the recently-dropped first half of Season 4.

Francesca, who has been married and trying for a baby for several months, doesn’t even know what an orgasm (or “pinnacle,” as they euphemistically call it) is. I found this storyline refreshing in a series that has given us a lot of “zero-to-fucking-in-ten-seconds” and “all simultaneous orgasms from penetration all the time” sex scenes.

People who have never experienced challenges with pleasure or been unable to climax might write this off as a product of the times. But if, in relatively sexually liberated 2026, you related to Francesca’s difficulties with orgasm? You’re not alone.

What Francesca’s Orgasm Difficulties Says About Sex Education

A recurring theme in the Bridgerton universe is women entering married life without a single clue about sex or their bodies. From Simon lying to Daphne about his “inability” to have children (when he’s actually just using the notoriously-unreliable pull-out method) to Eloise and Penelope wondering how an unmarried woman could become pregnant so that they can prevent it from happening to them, the naivety of these characters may be exaggerated for television but points to something real: in many times and places throughout history, a lack of basic knowledge about sex and their bodies helped to keep women in a place of powerlessness.

Things are no longer so bleak for young women, of course, and not just because our families aren’t generally marrying us off when we’re barely out of our teens. Most of us receive at least some education about the physical mechanics of sex, however incomplete and heteronormative that education may be. If all else fails, we can turn to the internet with questions like “how does a lady come to be with child?” (Love you Eloise.) But in a different way, misinformation and a lack of comprehensive sex education is still harming people of all genders.

How much time did your sex education curriculum dedicate to pleasure? If it was anything like mine, very little if any at all. In my school, the boys learned about female masturbation but the girls didn’t. Make that make sense. (Hint: it’s misogyny.) The messaging the girls received? That boys would pressure us for sex and it was our job to say no. That sex meant unwanted pregnancies and STIs, not pleasure. It wasn’t quite don’t have sex, because you will get pregnant… and die,” but it wasn’t far off.

Mention of the clitoris? Completely absent. I learned of its existence from a slightly older friend who talked very openly about her masturbation habits. I have to assume no-one taught us about women’s pleasure for one of two reasons: an assumption it wasn’t important, or a fear that it would make us want to have sex, undermining the “don’t do it” messaging.

But when we don’t learn about pleasure, we don’t know how to get it. More importantly, we don’t internalise the message that we deserve it. This insidious messaging leads people, and especially people with vulvas, to endure unsatisfying sex, feel obligated to fake orgasms, and minimise pain during sex.

Orgasm Difficulties Are Super Common

Very few people will come every time they have sex. Not being able to get there occasionally is not, generally, a cause for concern. But anorgasmia, or the persistent inability to reach orgasm even with extensive sexual stimulation, is far more common than you might think.

According to the Cleveland Clinic, up to 15% of cis women report never having had an orgasm (primary anorgasmia) and far more struggle with orgasm at least some of the time. The numbers for cis men are lower, with around 10% reporting orgasm difficulties according to San Diego Sexual Medicine. One study suggested that around 1.5 men in 1000 suffers from primary anorgasmia.

For trans women and trans men, rates of orgasm difficulties were 29% and 15% respectively according to one study. I haven’t been able to find any reliable statistics on non-binary people specifically.

What Causes Anorgasmia or Struggles with Orgasm?

The short and perhaps unhelpful answer is “it depends.” In no particular order, some of the possible causes can include:

  • Insufficient stimulation or the wrong kind of stimulation
  • Many medications including SSRI antidepressants and blood pressure medications
  • Hormonal changes (for example, due to menopause, pregnancy, or breastfeeding)
  • Physical health conditions (including both acute and chronic illness)
  • Pain during sex (which itself has many potential causes)
  • Mental health challenges such as depression, anxiety, and stress
  • Relationship issues such as conflict or lack of trust
  • A history of sexual abuse or assault
  • A strict, restrictive upbringing
  • Poor self-esteem or body image
  • Substance use
  • Fatigue
  • Ironically, too much pressure to get there (either from yourself or your partner)

What’s Wrong with Me If I’m Unable to Climax!?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

One of the most touching scenes in Bridgerton Season 4 is when Francesca confides in John that not only did she just fake an orgasm, but she’s never had one. My heart broke for her when she blamed her lack of orgasm for their fertility struggles, saying “forgive me, I do not know what is wrong with me.” Sweet and supportive man that he is, he reassures her that there’s nothing wrong with her and that she, and their relationship, are already just right.

So in case you need to hear the same, I’ll say it again. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re not broken. You’re just struggling with something that is actually incredibly common.

Do Orgasm Difficulties Mean There’s Something Wrong with My Relationship?

Not necessarily!

Many people believe that sexual problems in a relationship mean that there’s something inherently wrong with the relationship itself. But this often isn’t the case. As we established already, anorgasmia and orgasm difficulties can happen for all kinds of reasons. Relationship difficulties are one possible cause, and something you might want to examine if your orgasm problems started during a challenging time for your relationship. But there isn’t necessarily a correlation and even if you determine that there is, it doesn’t necessarily mean your relationship is doomed.

If I’m Unable to Climax, Does It Mean I Don’t Really Fancy My Partner?

Again, no, not necessarily.

In Bridgerton, Francesca has been set up as a queer character who has feelings for her husband’s cousin, Michaela (this change was made for the TV series; in the original book, Michaela was Michael.) However, this doesn’t necessarily mean she doesn’t feel love or attraction for her husband. She could very well be somewhere under the bisexual or pansexual umbrella. In fact, the showrunners have explicitly stated that viewers shouldn’t interpret Francesca’s orgasm difficulties as related to her sexuality.

Of course, problems with sex and orgasm do lead some people to realise they’re not attracted to their partner. This could be because their sexuality is different than they assumed, or because that particular relationship has run its course. But being unable to climax is really common even amongst people who are wildly physically and sexually attracted to their partners. In and of themselves, orgasm difficulties don’t say anything about your attraction to your partner.

So What Now?

If Francesca’s story struck a chord with you… me too. I’ve had plenty of orgasm difficulties throughout my sexual history, from stress-induced loss of desire to pressure-induced faking it to medication-induced anorgasmia.

Bridgerton is not a series that aims for realism. At its heart, it is pseudo-Regency softcore smut, and that’s fine. None of us are watching it for a history lesson. But truth is often wrapped in fiction. And Francesca’s storyline this season highlighted something many of us will relate to.

I’m going to write another post soon about practical strategies for dealing with orgasm difficulties. This one, though, is just to reassure you that if you’re unable to climax (sometimes or always), you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you’re just right, just as you are.

[Toy Review] Nothosaur Meo’s Ridge Extra-Long Dildo

We seem to be in something of a golden age of fantasy sex toys right now. More and more designers and manufacturers are popping up, and existing retailers are also realising the potential of these types of toys and beginning to stock them. From dragon dildos to Zodiac sex toys to tentacles and much more, if you can think of it then someone has probably made a version of it you can fuck. And for whatever reason, fantasy toys and oversized toys—from ultra-girthy to extra-long dildos—very often seem to go together. This week, Nothosaur is back as a site sponsor once again and has asked me to review their Meo’s Ridge extra-long dragon dildo.

Meo’s Ridge: An Extra-Long Dragon Dildo

The Meo’s Ridge by Nothosaur is a sex toy inspired by a dragon-like creature. Its suction cup base, adorned with spikes, gives way to a long and rippling shaft with rich and beautiful scale-like texturing. It really does make you think of the spines and scales on a mythical creature.

Meo's Ridge extra-long dildo from Nothosaur dragon range

The Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo is available in four sizes from XS to L, and three firmness levels: soft, medium, or hard. You can also add a vac-u-lock base, if you want. Lengths range from 9.4″ up to 17.5″ in total length, and 8.4″ up to 16.3″ in insertable length. Here’s Nothosaur’s useful size chart so you can compare the sizes and figure out which is best for you:

Size chart for Nothosaur Meo's Ridge extra-long dildo

I requested the Small size (the second smallest overall, measuring 12.2″ in overall length and 10.8″ in insertable length) in medium firmness.

All Nothosaur products are made from body-safe silicone.

As with most Nothosaur toys, you can also customize your Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo with your choice of colours. There are set suggested colourways available, or you can pick from a single solid colour, a two-colour fade, a covered colour (different colours for the inside and outside), or a marble effect with two or three colours.

I chose the pastel pink A-07 and pastel turquoise C-06 shades. The way they’ve blended together in the final fade, with a lilac colour in the middle, reminds me of a pastel version of the bisexual pride flag! This wasn’t intentional on my part, but I’m into it.

By the way: if you want the full set, you can also get the Meo’s Scales grinder (which I have and absolutely love) and the Meo’s Claw!

The Meo’s Ridge Extra-Long Dragon Dildo: Impressions & In Use

Meo's Ridge extra long dragon dildo

The first thing that struck me about the Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo when it arrived (apart from its size – more on that in a minute) is how pretty it is. The scales and ridges are a work of art. The level of detailing that has gone into it is truly impressive. I love the colourway I chose – I think it’s giving “queer pastel femme but make it a little bit edgy.”

The silicone looks and feels to be high quality. It is very matte, so it can feel quite “grabby” against the skin and this is amplified by the texturing. Just make sure to add plenty of lube to this toy. I recommend the boil-sterilising method of cleaning. All those little ridges and crevices can harbour germs and bacteria if you don’t clean the toy thoroughly.

The tapered design of the Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo is excellent. If you’re new to experimenting with extra-long dildos, trying out “depth training”, or just prefer a slower warm-up, a tapered toy is a great way to enjoy gradual insertion without things feeling too intense too quickly.

Meo's Ridge dragon sex toy dildo tip close up

I also like that the Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo isn’t too girthy. The diameter at the widest insertable point ranges from 1.5″ (XS) up to 2.7″ (L), though this point is right near the base of the toy so many users may never insert it that far. The first bulge, towards the top of the shaft, ranges from 1.1″ up to 2.2″ in diameter. Not everyone enjoys both length and girth; some people prefer longer but slimmer toys, and this is an ideal design for those people.

By the way: the length, softness, and texturing of this toy also make it amazing for grinding on, if that’s something you’re into. There’s never just one way to use a toy and there’s certainly no right or wrong way. This was one additional use I found for the Meo’s Ridge dildo.

Let’s Talk About This Toy’s Size and Softness

The size of the Meo’s Ridge dragon dildo is quite something. Despite being only the second of four sizes, the Meo’s Ridge in Small is literally the length of my forearm! I can’t imagine any universe in which I could insert it all or would even want to try. But that’s fine; bodies are different and preferences are different.

You don’t need to insert the entire length of an extra-long dildo like this to enjoy it. If you only ever use the first two or three inches, or even less than that, as long as you’re having fun nothing else matters. Sex toys aren’t supposed to be a challenge unless the challenge turns you on!

Nothosaur Meo's Ridge dragon sex toy, an extra-long bent in half

I was a little surprised by just how floppy and flexible the Meo’s Ridge dildo is. When I stand it up on the suction cup, it completely flops over. The advantage of this is that the softness and flexibility makes it super comfortable to insert. You can bend it virtually any way you like and the silicone has tonnes of give to it. You can also flex the toy once it’s inside you to target your G-spot or any other internal spot you’re looking to stimulate.

The downside is that it can make initial insertion a little tricky. I found that if I don’t get the angle exactly right, the tip of the toy bends away from my body when I apply pressure to insert it.

It has a suction cup, which theoretically makes it hands-free and harness-compatible. In reality, though, the Meo’s Ridge isn’t likely to be a suitable toy for either of those activities due to its length and floppiness. It is anal-safe if that’s your thing. However, even the medium firmness is soft enough that I imagine anal penetration would be tricky for most users.

Meo’s Ridge Dragon Dildo Review: Verdict

If you’re looking for a soft extra-long dildo that isn’t also extremely girthy, the Meo’s Ridge is a great choice. Its dragon dildo aesthetic is unique and detailed, and sure to appeal to fantasy toy lovers. I love the textured surface, the tapered design, and the slimline shaft in particular.

One quick pro tip: if you get this toy, I’d really recommend choosing the “hard” firmness level unless you’re intentionally looking for something very soft and floppy.

The Meo’s Ridge retails from $59.99 for the smallest size in a standard colourway. Larger sizes, custom colours, and additional customisations all impact the final price you’ll pay.

Thanks to Nothosaur sex toys for sending me this dragon dildo and sponsoring this review! All views are, as always, mine.

[Toy Review] Blush Novelties Avant Lucky Glitter Dildo

I’m back with another Blush Novelties Avant range review following my recent review of the P3 lesbian flag dildo. Today we’re looking at the Avant Lucky. This gorgeous sparkly glitter dildo in a pink/purple/blue ombre was sent to me by The Pleasure Garden inclusive sex shop. Though this isn’t officially one of Blush’s pride dildos, the Lucky’s colourway matches the bisexual flag.

What is the Blush Novelties Avant Lucky?

Blush Novelties Avant Lucky glitter dildo

The Avant Lucky is part of Blush Novelties’ range of affordable and cute as fuck silicone dildos. It measures 8″ in total length, 6.5″ in insertable length, and 1.5″ in diameter. It has a straight shaft design in a semi-realistic style, a slightly pronounced head, and a suction cup base.

I love this dildo’s shimmering glitter bisexual pride flag colourway.

Are Sparkly and Glitter Dildos Body-Safe?

I knew what I thought my stance on this subject was before writing this review. However, I did some additional research to be sure. So are sparkly dildos with glitter actually body-safe?

The short and (I’m sorry) unsatisfying answers are… “maybe” and “sometimes.”

Glitter dildo in pink blue and purple from Blush Novelties' Avant range

Some glitters (and related materials like mica) are body-safe, others are not. Think about the ones used in reputable sparkly cosmetics, for example, vs. the stuff you buy in craft stores. The problem with glitter sex toys is that, unless the company chooses to disclose it, there’s almost no way to tell what type of glitter they’re using.

Back in 2021, the fabulous sex blogger Felicity at Phallophile Reviews noted some issues with the Avant Lucky; specifically, she was concerned about glitter flakes delaminating (making their way out of the toy) and the possible safety implications of this. Shortly after, Blush responded to apologise for the problem and to let her know that the glitter they use in their sparkly dildos is non-toxic and body-safe. Felicity also discovered that the Avant Lucky is made by mixing the glitter into the silicone, which is a far safer option than the alternative of adding it as a coating at the setting/curing stage.

I know that, with my Avant Lucky, I haven’t had any issues with glitter flakes coming out of the toy so it’s entirely possible Blush were true to their word and fixed the issue. So is this toy truly body-safe? I’m going to say probably though I don’t feel confident enough to say definitely.

I think the risk here is small, if there is any. Personally, I feel comfortable using this toy. But you’re ultimately the only one who can decide your own risk tolerance. If you’re not sure but you still love the toy, you can always pop a condom over it.

What I Like About the Blush Novelties Avant Lucky Sparkly Dildo

I have to hand it to Blush: they are knocking it out of the park with their range of body-safe dildos in beautiful colourways at affordable prices. This dildo’s sparkly silicone feels high quality and soft enough to rival (or beat) many of the far more expensive products I’ve tried. It has a satisfyingly velvety texture that’s a joy to touch, hold, and use.

Avant Lucky glitter silicone suction cup dildo in bi pride colours

The Avant Lucky is made of fairly firm and dense silicone, with minimal “squish.” Its rounded shaft is the same width all the way down, making it ideal for lovers of medium girth toys. The shaft has a little flexibility. It also has some light texturing on the shaft, a little like the veins of a bio-cock, making it a good in-between option for those who enjoy some texture but find heavily textured toys too intense.

The slight protrusion of the head is great for G-spot or prostate stimulation, and the suction cup base makes it anal safe, harness compatible, and easy to use hands-free if that’s your thing.

Anything I Didn’t Like?

My personal preference is for curved dildos rather than straight-up-and-down ones. For that reason, the Blush Avant Lucky sparkly dildo isn’t quite a perfect pick for my body. This is, of course, different for every individual so it’s important to be aware of your body’s needs and preferences. I also find straight toys somewhat less ideal for strap-on sex than curved ones due to issues with positioning.

Avant Lucky Verdict: A Sparkly, Glittery Bisexual Dildo at an Affordable Price

Blush Novelties Avant Lucky glitterly bisexual flag dildo

As long as you’re comfortable with using glitter toys, the Blush Novelties Avant Lucky is a solid basic dildo in a medium size at an affordable price. It probably isn’t one I’ll use much on myself, but I’ll keep it on hand to use with lovers who prefer straight toys to curved ones.

The Avant Lucky retails for £36.50.

Thank you to The Pleasure Garden for sending me this product to review. All views, as always, are mine. This post contains affiliate links – clicking through and shopping with them sends me a small commission at no extra cost to you.

Everything The L Word: Generation Q Got Wrong About Polyamory

I just finished my rewatch of The L Word: Generation Q. This follow-up from the hit series from the early-mid 2000s catches up with fan faves Bette (Jennifer Beals), Alice (Leisha Hailey), and Shane (Katherine Moennig) 10 years later as well as bringing in a host of new gay, queer and trans characters. The L Word Generation Q also covers new ground including polyamory and the much-discussed triad (“throuple“) relationship of Alice, Nat, and Gigi.

From here on out there will be spoilers for all three seasons of the series, so stop reading now if you want to avoid those!

It’s safe to say that, in many ways, Generation Q tries to fix some of the things that The L Word got wrong. Notably, there is significantly improved representation of Alice’s bisexuality (and bisexuality in general), much better trans representation (Shane’s apology to Max for “the way we were back then” reads to me as an apology from the producers to the entire trans community), and the addition of non-binary characters as well as butch women characters.

One thing it still manages to get horrendously wrong, though, is its representation of consensual non-monogamy and polyamory. The most notable polyamory storyline features Alice, her girlfriend of two years Nat, and Nat’s ex-wife Gigi, but I also have things to say about Shane and non-monogamy.

Back in 2018, I wrote about all the things You Me Her got wrong about polyamory (spoiler: a lot.) Let’s give The L Word: Generation Q the same treatment, shall we?

The L Word Generation Q’s Alice, Nat and Gigi: The Inevitable Throuple Trope

This is the eternal problem of polyamory in fiction: most writers seem to think that the default configuration for polyamory is a triad (or, to use a cringeworthily terrible word I wish would die already, “throuple.”) That is, three people in a relationship all together. In the vast majority of cases, this is the only representation we get.

The reality is that triads are fairly rare. Stable, healthy, functional triads are even rarer. It’s a really difficult dynamic to both find and sustain, with a very high failure rate, and is just not representative of how most people do polyamory.

The only slight saving grace of The L Word Generation Q’s throuple storyline is that it’s three women rather than the “one man, two women” configuration we usually see.

When Triads Do Happen, They Don’t Usually Result From Drunken Threesomes

I wouldn’t have had a problem with The L Word Generation Q’s throuple story if it had been handled differently. The show could have done something interesting with Alice, Nat and Gigi having the threesome and then having to deal with the resulting awkwardness and emotional fallout. Things happen, particularly when unresolved feelings and a lot of tequila are involved. And frankly it’s a fucking hot scene.

But for an alcohol-fuelled spontaneous threesome to transition to a full-on triad in the space of about two days is flat-out ridiculous.

The L Word Generation Q’s Throuple Involving Two Ex Wives is Hard Mode on Speed

Look, I understand that the point of this storyline was to show that Nat and Gigi aren’t over each other and that Nat genuinely loves Alice while also genuinely loving Gigi. But The L Word Generation Q’s bungled throuple storyline was the worst possible way to do it. Anyone with a modicum of polyamory experience would have been screaming watching this.

Poor Alice never stood a chance in this situation. Pro tip: if you’re going to try polyamory, a triad is hard mode. If you’re going to try a triad anyway, doing it with your (or your partner’s) ex is the worst possible way to go about it.

Why Does Nat Give Alice False Hope With a Promise of Monogamy?

After the L Word Generation Q throuple falls apart, Nat turns up at Alice’s show recording to win her back. She promises Alice that she wants to love and be with “just her.” But they’ve barely reconciled when Nat os coming out as polyamorous, and has apparently been thinking she might be poly for a long time.

So why, then, did she make a promise she knew she might not be able to keep? This just seems exceptionally and needlessly cruel to Alice.

Does Alice Have to Be So Judgy?

Alice has been subjected to a fair amount of bigotry and prejudice on both the original L Word and Generation Q, not least a lot of biphobia (including from her friends.) She’s also a fan favourite, and perhaps the character I personally relate to the most. So it was really, really disappointing to see this exchange:

Nat: “Monogamy isn’t for everyone.”
Alice: “It’s for most people. Except the bad ones.”

I can accept that Alice can’t handle polyamory in her own relationship. That’s fair. Like monogamy, it’s not for everyone. But it makes me really sad to see her being so harsh and judgemental about it. When Nat goes and cries in the bathroom after this exchange, my heart broke for her.

When Did Nat and Alice Discuss… Literally Anything?

In a pretty tender and emotional L Word Generation Q scene, some time after their throuple with Gigi falls apart, Nat comes out as polyamorous to a horrified Alice. Next thing we know, she’s coming back from her first overnight sex date. I hate that the show totally skipped over everything that comes in between these two points. The hours of talking, negotiating, processing, discussing agreements and boundaries and more… all skipped.

Obviously we couldn’t see all of this, because the show only has so much time. But one or two scenes is, surely, not too much to ask for. Instead, it gives the impression that the opening up journey is a quick hop, skip and jump from “I think I’m polyamorous” to “overnight dates.”

How the Fuck Has Shane Never Heard of Polyamory?

After Shane inevitably cheats on her girlfriend Tess (played by the gorgeous and fabulous Jamie Clayton of Sense8 fame) and they’re trying to work things out, Tess asks Shane if she wants to do ethical non-monogamy (ENM.) Shane, the player and womanizer extraordinaire who also lives in a huge liberal city and has been part of the LGBTQ community for decades, has apparently… never heard of this concept.

It’s even implied at one point that Shane and her ex-wife Quiara had some kind of non-monogamous relationship when Quiara says something like “you and I have never done things the conventional way.” Yet later on, Shane’s somehow never even considered this possibility. It makes absolutely no sense.

And One Thing The L Word Generation Q Got Right: The Heartbreak of a Failed Throuple and Fundamental Incompatibility

I hate how it got there, but I actually think having Alice and Nat break up over their incompatible views on monogamy was a good and powerful storyline. Because in those situations, where one of you wants monogamy and the other doesn’t, breaking up is often inevitable and usually the best choice (even though it utterly sucks.)

Credit where credit is due, this was a far better choice than either Alice reluctantly going along with polyamory or Nat reluctantly going along with monogamy.

But seriously, when are we going to get better polyamorous representation on TV? When are writers and producers going to start actually, you know, talking to polyamorous people?

Sapphic, Lesbian and WLW Erasure in Polyamory, Kink, and Other Alternative Sexuality Communities

Those of us who are active in alternative relationship and sexuality communities such as polyamory, consensual non-monogamy, and kink like to believe that we’re operating in a utopia. We so want to think our little bubble is apart from the rest of the world, unaffected by society’s ills. It’s a seductive narrative, but it is a lie. Today I want to talk about a pervasive and insidious issues I’ve been thinking a lot about recently. Specifically, sapphic erasure and lesbian invisibility in the queer, kink, and polyamory communities.

A quick note on terminology: I can’t write about this topic without acknowledging the ways in which the the anti-transgender hate movement has co-opted the concept of “lesbian erasure.” Anti-trans activists often erroniously claim that to accept trans women as women is to erase or undermine lesbian identities and that cis lesbians routinely experience pressure to transition to male. I absolutely and unequivocally reject these ideas. Trans women are women. Trans, non-binary, and gender-diverse sapphics are our siblings and family. They are just as much a part of the community as their cis counterparts.

With that said, I want to talk about the systemic erasure and devaluing of sapphic, lesbian, and women-loving-women (WLW) identities and relationships within polyamory, consensual non-monogamy, kink, and other adjacent communities.

Queer Erasure in Sex-Positive Spaces: Who Counts as a Couple?

Let’s start with the obvious: many non-monogamous spaces, particularly those geared around casual sex and swinging, are simply not set up in a way that allows for any configuration of people that isn’t “one man and one woman in a relationship” or “a single cisgender person.” The result of this is lesbian and sapphic invisibility and the erasure of queer polyamory and non-monogamy.

The most obvious example of this is gendered pricing. This has tonnes of its own problems anyway and completely falls apart when you account for anyone who isn’t straight, cis, and in a relationship that appears monogamous from the outside.

Many lifestyle events, clubs, and parties would class my girlfriend and I as two single women if we attended together. (Whereas, of course, if I attended with a male partner they’d class us as a couple.) Two women could be literally married to each other, and this would still be the case. Because in the eyes of those spaces, a “couple” is a man and a woman.

“But you’ll get in cheaper if they count you as two single women!”. Yeah, this isn’t the gotcha you think it is in this situation. I’d much, much rather pay the same rate as any other couple rather than have my relationship minimised, othered, and erased on account of our genders.

It’s often more insidious than these fairly blatant forms of discrimination, too. When people talk about “couples” in non-monogamous spaces, they will often casually refer to “the man” and “the lady” (or, worse, “girl”) as if that is the only configuration for a couple to take. If I refer to a partner without gendering them, most people will assume I am talking about a man. I really don’t believe this is malicious in 99% of cases. At worst, I think it is privilege-blind and clueless. But that doesn’t make it any more right or any less hurtful.

The Aggressive Gendering of Kink

I love the BDSM community in so many ways. I’ve been finding my home, my place, and my people within it for the best part of 15 years. But the longer I stick around, the more I see something I can’t unsee. The kink community still has a pervasive gender-norms problem that we still need to address.

Absent very explicit context to the contrary, people still broadly assume that men are Dominant and women are submissive. They’ll expect kinky and D/s relationships to look broadly heteronormative. And sure, Femdom exists. But all my Dominant women friends have countless stories of men treating them as little more than fetish dispensers. Dommes are expected to service those men’s needs and follow precise directions while pretending to be in charge. All without regard for their own needs and desires.

There is very, very little representation of kinky sapphic relationships of any description in our media, our online spaces, our educational materials, or our event leadership demographics. Why is that? Because it sure as hell isn’t “because kinky sapphics don’t exist.”

I suspect it’s for a few reasons. First, a lack of imagination that assumes all kinky relationships must play out a sexy version of 1950s gender roles. Second, because cisheterosexism still means that—even in alternative spaces—men are more likely to hold positions of leadership and influence. And third, because parts of the community can be pretty damn unwelcoming for queer people and especially for queer women.

More than once, when I’ve played with other women in public kink spaces, we’ve been interrupted by men. They either try to give unsolicited advice or try to insert themselves into our scene. On one memorable occasion, I was topping for an impact play scene with a friend (who, in her words, was “having a perfectly lovely time”). Out of nowhere, a man I’d never met came over and tried to physically grab my flogger out of my hands.

Because I was a woman, I was assumed to be incompetent. Because we were two women playing together, we were assumed to need a man. Our happy little play bubble was totally ruined by some random dude’s ego and entitlement.

This isn’t an isolated incident, either. Virtually every queer woman I know who plays in mixed kink spaces with other women has a similar story. Is there any wonder we’ve started making more and more of our own spaces?

To be fair, this does seem to be slowly getting better. But there’s some way still to go.

“But You Still Like Men, Right?” Minimising of Lesbian and Sapphic Relationships in Heteronormative Polyamory Communities

When I mention my girlfriend to people who know I’m non-monogamous (or can reasonably make that assumption, such as at a lifestyle party or social), one of the first I’ve been asked on numerous occasions is whether or not I also date or fuck men.

My friend Violet calls this the “are you heteronormative enough for my comfort zone?” question. Which… no. No I am not.

My usual response to this, until now, has been to say yes but emphasise that it’s fairly rare for me to fancy a man enough to want to do anything about it. In the future, though, I think I might change my response. “Why do you ask?” or “well I’m not sleeping with you if that’s what you’re really asking” are strong contenders.

I want people who ask me this question to ask themselves why it’s the first place their mind goes on learning that I’m sapphic. After all, if a woman mentions a boyfriend or husband, almost no-one is going to ask her “but you still date women too, right?” Ultimately, what they’re asking is whether I am still sexually available to men – a thing that patriarchy both demands of women and villifies us for.

There’s a strong connection between all of this and the commodification of sapphic sexuality in service of the male gaze.

Polyamory, Sapphic and Lesbian Sexuality, and the Male Gaze

People often believe that there is no sapphic, lesbian and WLW erasure issue in polyamory and kink because there are so many bisexual, pansexual and queer women in these spaces. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s quite that simple. In reality, my experience and the experience of many sapphic friends I’ve spoken to about this, is often not so much one of acceptance but of fetishisation, followed by devaluing when we refuse to conform to a safe, male-gazey idea of what our sexuality should be. And fetishisation is not acceptance. It certainly isn’t love.

Lesbian, sapphic, bi+, and queer polyamory exists in contexts that have absolutely nothing to do with performing for men.

I’m reminded of the man at a polyamorous speed dating event about a year ago. He aggressively quizzed me about what my former metamour-with-benefits and I got up to in the bedroom. He was then clearly bored and put out when I refused to engage. In the 16 years or so I’ve been out, I really thought we’d moved past men asking sapphics “but what do y’all do in bed anyway!?”. Apparently we have not.

I’m also reminded of the man who hit on me and my girlfriend in a gay bar on Pride weekend. Because apparently what two sapphics in love desperately needed in that moment was his dick. I have literally dozens of other examples like this that I can pull out with very little thought.

Expectations of Performativity

In sexualised spaces, including parts of the polyamory community, people continue to expect queer women to perform their sexuality in a way that appeals to the male gaze. Two different male exes of mine became extremely upset or angry when my girlfriends were either not their physical type or not willing to sleep with them. This made me feel like my sexuality, my relationships, were only valid as long as they provided benefits to men. Which, of course, is a classic way that society devalues and commodifies WLW relationships.

One of these partners literally asked me what was “even the point” of me being queer. If I didn’t perform in a way that fulfilled his lesbian porn fantasy, my identity was irrelevant. Other male partners and metamours have tried to demand titillating details, photos, or even the right to “watch.” I’ve been hit on by so many men who want me to play with their wives. This is inevitably not because she wants a sapphic experience, but because he wants her to perform one for him.

Patriarchal entitlement to women’s bodies persists, even when we are tell you we are far more interested in each other than we are in you.

Unicorn hunting is another extremely common variation on this theme. In those dynamics, the original male/female couple will often pull a bait-and-switch tactic in which they use the woman to lure other queer women in, then spring the boyfriend or husband on the unsuspecting “unicorn” as a kind of polyamory package deal. I hope I don’t have to tell you how grossly unethical this is. That’s why I now run from prospective female dates at the first signs that they’re going to expect me to be sexually available to their male partners.

And that brings us to…

One Penis Policies in Polyamory: Are Lesbian and Sapphic Dynamics Less Threatening, or Are You Just Homophobic?

This particular trope is so common within non-monogamy that it’s now a cliché. A cisgender man and woman open up their relationship. The man then tells his partner he’ll allow her to date other women, but no men. (In practice, what this means is “no-one else with a penis“, which is also transphobic.) The reason? Women are just less threatening. They don’t make him feel emasculated or threatened in the way that a man (or penis-haver) would.

The subtext? His wife could never leave him for another woman. She could never like having sex with another woman more than she does with him. She could never gain more fulfillment from a sapphic relationship than from a straight one. A man could steal her away, but a woman couldn’t. So his place in her life is safe. Right?

This comes from a belief that relationships between women are less real, less valid, and less important than hetero-appearing relationships. In other words it’s straight up, common-or-garden, fucking boring homophobia.

These men, by the way, are often the same men who expect their wives’ sapphic relationships to offer them something in terms of sexual access or live-action lesbian porn on tap then get very upset if they don’t.

But of course, lesbian, sapphic and WLW relationships are just as deep, meaningful, and sexually satisfying as hetero ones in both polyamory and monogamy. Hell, for many of us they’re often more so. If you believe your wife can’t possibly glean as much happiness or fulfillment from a relationship with a woman, you might be in for a very rude awakening. If you see another man as a threat but not a woman, all this tells me is that you believe men are inherently superior and hetero relationships are inherently more desirable or important.

The fact that this practice and way of thinking is so common tells me, in itself, that there’s still a lot of homophobia towards lesbian, sapphic and queer women within polyamory.

So What Can We Do About It?

I try to make these blog posts something more than just rants. So if we accept that sapphic, lesbian and WLW erasure are huge problems in these communities, what can we do about it?

Here are a few of my ideas for how we, as a community, can start combatting this issue:

  • Stop all gendered pricing for events, now. If you want to limit numbers of single men, fine. You can sell only a certain number of tickets or vet them carefully or both. But pricing according to gender, and defining “couple” as meaning a man and a woman, is homophobic, cissexist, and exclusionary.
  • Vote with your feet and your wallet. Attend events that are inclusive and avoid those that are not.
  • Stop asking queer women whether we also sleep with men. Some of us do, some of us don’t. Either way, it is solidly none of your goddamn business unless we’re going to sleep with you. And unless we make it very clear, you should probably assume we’re not.
  • Stop asking queer women for details of our sex lives. This includes asking if you can “watch,” asking for pictures or details, or treating us as lesbian porn fantasies.
  • If you’re a man practicing polyamory with a queer female partner, give your partner’s sapphic relationships equal weight to yours.
  • Do not assume that hetero-presenting relationships or marriages are “primary”. Don’t assume they are more important or take precedent over queer relationships in non-monogamous networks.
  • Push back against unicorn hunting and one penis policies wherever you see them. Let people know that they are fetishising, homophobic, transphobic, and all-round gross.
  • Use non-gendered terms when talking about kink roles such as Top, bottom, Dominant, submissive, and so on. Do not assume that all Dominants are men, that all submissives are women, or that all kinky relationships are heteronormative.
  • Uplift and support queer women as educators, speakers, organisers, and leaders within the kink, polyamory, and sex-positive communities.

Of course, fixing this kind of stuff takes more than just a few steps. Erasure of sapphic and queer women is deeply ingrained and pervasive, and communities like kink and polyamory are not immune. Undoing it will require a massive cultural shift both within our little subcultures and in wider society. It won’t happen overnight, of course. But I do believe we can get there. Let’s start by acknowledging that lesbian and queer polyamory exist, are valid, and are beautiful.

So You Want to Find a Unicorn?

Spend ten seconds on any polyamory forum or Facebook group, and this issue will come up. “We’re a couple, she’s bi and he’s straight, and we’re looking for a unicorn to join our relationship!” (The hapless couple might also refer to the unicorn they’re looking for as “a third” or, even worse, “a female.”) The community, particularly people who have been doing this for a long time, have little patience for this phenomenon. Commenters may be fairly harsh towards the couple in question. And I get it! I too roll my eyes every time I see yet another iteration of this. But why is unicorn hunting bad?

Yelling at and berating unicorn hunters doesn’t help to educate them. It just turns them off and, often, causes them to double down. So I thought I’d address this issue in depth here. What is this “unicorn hunting” thing all about, why is it problematic, and what options do you have instead?

What is Unicorn Hunting, Anyway?

A “unicorn”, in polyamory[1], is a woman[2] who is willing to join a pre-existing couple to form a triad[3] relationship. It is usually understood that the relationship will be closed (i.e. no additional partners outside the triad) and that the unicorn will be expected to conform to an array of rules that the couple determined ahead of time with no input from her.

The reason this phenomenon is called “unicorn hunting” is that it’s typically so hard to find this person that she might as well be a mythological creature.

___

[1] In swinging, the term is sometimes used more broadly to refer to single women who are willing to play sexually with couples. That’s not what we’re talking about here.

[2] There is some debate in the community over whether there is any such thing as a male unicorn. Some believe there is, others believe that couples looking for unicorns is a strictly gendered phenomenon. I have seen a male unicorn be referred to as a “Pegasus” or a “Dragon”, but these terms don’t seem to have caught on very widely. In this post, I will sometimes use “she/her” pronouns to refer to unicorns as that is by far the most common iteration of this trope. However, the advice here and the bad things about unicorn hunting apply no matter the genders of the couple or the incoming partner.

[3] Three-person romantic relationship, also sometimes called a “throuple.”

Before We Talk About Why Unicorn Hunting Is Bad, Let’s Establish Who I’m Not Talking About

This post is not about everyone in a three-person relationship or triad.

Did you have two partners, who then met and also happened to fall for each other? Or maybe you were one of two partners to a hinge person, then you also fell for your metamour. Perhaps you and your partner made a friend or started a casual sexual relationship with a lovely someone, and romantic feelings developed between all three of you. Or possibly you’re just theoretically open to the idea of a triad if the right person/people come along.

If any of these situations, or something like them, match yours then I am not talking to you. Your situation (or hypothetical situation) is what I’d call an organically formed triad. There’s nothing whatsoever wrong with those!

If, however, you’re a couple who has recently (or not so recently) opened up your relationship and decided that looking for a unicorn—a bisexual woman to form a closed triad with you both—is what you want, I’m talking to you. I’m going to be as kind as I can. But I’m also going to say some things you might not want to hear. I gently challenge you to make it to the end of this breakdown of the bad things about unicorn hunting with an open mind. Then consider whether you think I make any good points.

The purpose of this post is to educate and encourage you to think more critically about this dynamic. It is not to berate you, scold you, or push you away from the polyamorous community.

Why Do You Want This Specific Dynamic?

I have often asked couples trying to find a unicorn why they are looking for this set-up in particular. I have rarely received satisfactory answers. So before you go any further, if you’re a couple looking for a unicorn, please ask yourselves this question and really interrogate it. Why can’t you date separately, if polyamory is what you want? Why don’t you try swinging instead if casual sexual experiences together are your priority? What is it specifically about a closed, three-way relationship with a bisexual woman that appeals to you so much?

“It’s just what we want!” isn’t an answer, by the way.

Let’s address some of the common answers I see to this question, and my responses to them.

  • “My wife is bisexual and wants to try being with a woman.” Okay, this desire can be addressed either by swinging/casual sex or by her dating women separately.
  • “My husband says other women only, no men.” This is called a One Penis Policy (OPP). It has so many issues that I’m going to write another entire post about it. In the meantime, read this.
  • “If my partner is dating someone else separately, what am I getting out of it!?”. I mean… seeing your partner happy? Supporting their joy, pleasure, and exploration? The opportunity to also date people separately yourself? Viewing non-monogamy simply through the lens of “what’s in it for me?” is unlikely to lead to happiness. It can lead to seeing your partner’s other relationships as commodities for your consumption.
  • “I’d be too jealous if my partner were dating someone separately/my partner would be too jealous if I dated separately.” Oh my sweet summer child. Virtually every polyamory newbie ever has made this mistake, including me back in the day! Dating together is not a cure for jealousy, which can (and likely will) absolutely crop up in a triad or other group relationship. Also, jealousy is a normal human emotion to be felt, processed, communicated about, dealt with, or just sat with until it passes. It’s not the enemy.
  • “I don’t feel safe dating without my partner/my partner doesn’t feel safe dating without me.” You may need to do some work on regaining independence, which is absolutely possible from within a relationship. It is healthy to be able to do some things separately! There are also healthy ways to keep yourself physically, emotionally, and sexually safe while dating, but doing everything together at all times isn’t one of them.

Whatever your reasons for unicorn hunting, you are likely to find that there are better and healthier ways of addressing those needs and desires.

What’s So Bad About Unicorn Hunting Anyway?

“That’s all well and good, Amy,” hopeful couples might be saying right now, “but we’re determined to keep looking for our unicorn and we’re willing to wait if necessary! What’s wrong with what we want? Isn’t this community supposed to be open minded!?”

I hear you. It’s not nice to be told that what you’re looking for is a problem. However, the reason experienced polyamorous people are wary of unicorn hunting is that we’re all too aware of all the ways it can go wrong. Many of us have learned from very bitter personal experience, on one side or the other of this equation.

So let’s look at a few specific things that are problematic about unicorn hunting.

Unicorn Hunting is Bad Because It Dehumanises Bi Women

Bisexual women are already aggressively and often non-consensually sexualised by society. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve mentioned being bi and someone has either said “that’s hot!” or asked if I’ll have a threesome with them and their partner.

Unicorn hunting reduces bi women to a highly sexualised monolith. The reality is that we fall all over the sexuality spectrum. Some of us are very sexual, some of us are demisexual, some of us are asexual. Some of us are into threesomes, group sex, and group dating, while others are not. And yes, plenty of us are actually monogamous!

What bisexual women are not, though, is sex toys designed to spice up the bedrooms of bored couples. The idealisation of the MFF closed triad directly stems from the male gaze, the hyper-sexualisation of bi women, and the trope that sapphic love and sex exists for male consumption.

I’m a pretty sexual person. I love sex, and I love folks of multiple genders. I also love group sex, threesomes, moresomes, and all that goodness when they’re in the context of a trusted dynamic with people I like. What I DON’T love is the assumption that I am available to couples in general, or the feeling that my being bisexual and having a vagina are the only reasons someone is approaching me. I’m a person, not your “two hot bi babes” fantasy.

A Person Cannot “Join” an Existing Relationship

A triad isn’t a single relationship. A triad is actually four relationships: three dyads (A+B, A+C, B+C) and the relationship between all three people. Seven relationships, if you count the relationship each person has with themself. (Which you probably should, because self-care and a stable relationship with yourself are even more important in non-monogamy.)

So an additional person cannot meaningfully “join” an existing relationship. If you’re in a relationship or married, you and your partner/spouse have a dyadic relationship that you’ve been building for however many years. That relationship will continue, though it will undoubtedly be changed, when you date other people either together or separately.

In the context of a triad, you will each be creating a new dyadic relationship with your new partner. You’ll also be contending with shifts and changes in your dyadic relationship with one another. And, of course, you’ll be creating a brand new relationship between all three of you. See how that’s much harder than just fitting someone into a vaguely person-shaped box labelled “insert bi gal here”?

Viewing the incoming partner as an “addition” to your relationship will not lead anywhere good for any of you. Treating them as an add-on can leave incoming partners feeling like little more than accessories or human sex toys. Which leads me on to…

You Can’t Expect Someone to Feel Exactly the Same Way About Two People

All the successful triad relationships I know have a few things in common, and this is one of them: they allowed, and continue to allow, the individual relationships within the triad to develop, fluctuate, change, and grow at their own natural pace. People don’t fall in love with two people at the same rate, in the same way, at the same time. Human emotions simply don’t work like that. To be in a triad, you have to be comfortable with the fact that each dyadic relationship within it will look different.

Another question I see a lot in polyamorous forums is a variation of this: “Help! We formed a triad but now it seems like our girlfriend is connecting with my wife more than me!”

In an ethical, organically formed triad, this difference in connection needs to be okay. You might have challenging feelings about it, of course. That’s normal. You may need to seek reassurance and extra affection from one or both of your partners. You may even need to renegotiate some aspects of your relationship. In a unicorn situation, this disparity in levels of connection – which is incredibly normal – can be enough to get the newer partner ejected from the relationship.

In addition, an ethical triad allows for the possibility that one (or more) of the dyadic relationships may have conflict, deescalate, or even end… without any expectations that other dyadic connections need to end as a result. If you have a rule that says your partner must date you in order to date your spouse, this leaves them a spectacularly shitty choice if they just don’t feel that way about you or if your relationship is no longer working: fake a connection to you that they do not feel, or lose their relationship with your spouse, i.e. someone they love.

Do you see how unfair that is? Do you also see how it lays the groundwork for coercion, abuse, or even sexual violence? I don’t know about you, but I would be horrified if I realised someone was having sex with me that they didn’t want, just because they thought it was the price of admission to get access to my partner.

Unicorn Hunting Is Bad Because It Centres the Couple

Unicorn hunting typically centres the original couple, even without intending to, by putting their desires and needs front and centre. Often, they’ve made the rules before a third party has even entered the picture, giving her no say in their creation. This means that the unicorn is seen as an add-on to the couple’s relationship, rather than an equal partner.

The couple often expect – even tacitly – the new partner to prioritise their needs and wants above her own. They also tend to expect that, in the event of conflict, their relationship will be the one prioritised. This is often the case even when the couple pays lip service to their new partner being “totally equal.”

The result? Once again, the newer partner ends up feeling like an accessory rather than a human being.

Think about some of the ways you’d like your relationship to look if you did successfully find a unicorn, or the rules you’d want her to follow. Will you permit her to have dates, sex, and so on with one of you without the other present? If not, will you also be refraining from any one-to-one intimacy with each other? (The answer to this is often “no” and “no”. That is, by definition, not an equal set-up.) If things go swimmingly, will you want your unicorn to move into your home? Would you ever consider moving into hers, or buying a new place all together? Will you introduce her to your family and friends, bring her home for the holidays, or tell your work colleagues about her?

When you start checking your assumptions about how your dream triad relationship will go, you might find that there’s a lot of inequality baked in. That’s because unicorn hunting is almost always couple-centric. Relationships that spring from unicorn hunting involve three people, but tend to only benefit two of them.

Most Polyamorous People Don’t Want Closed Relationships

There are exceptions, of course. Polyfidelity is a thing and can be valid! But the vast majority of polyamorous people are polyamorous, at least in part, because it enables them to be open to new connections of all kinds that may come into their lives.

If you’re seeking a closed relationship with your hypothetical unicorn, I invite you to consider why that is. Most answers will fall into one of two categories.

“I/we would be too jealous if our girlfriend was with anyone else.” Again, jealousy is a real feeling and it can be overwhelming. However, if you want to be non-monogamous, you can’t simply avoid it by setting up rules and restrictions for your partners. At least not if you want happy and healthy relationships.

If you’re not ready to confront and handle jealousy when it arises, you’re not ready to be non-monogamous. It won’t always be easy. Sometimes it’ll utterly suck. But it is necessary if you want to live this life. It is spectacularly unfair to ask a polyamorous person to cut off their chances to enjoy other connections just because you are trying to avoid a difficult feeling.

“I am/we are worried about STIs.” I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about sexual health. If you’re non-monogamous, it’s absolutely something with which you need to concern yourself. However, having a closed relationship is not the only way to protect your sexual health. Everyone in your polycule and wider sexual/romantic network should be getting regular STI tests. You should all be communicating openly about barrier usage or lack thereof and incorporating risk-aware practices.

Often, when I hear “we want a closed relationship because we don’t want STIs”, what’s at the root of it is actually just good old-fashioned slut-shaming. Did you know that consensually non-monogamous people actually have lower STI rates than supposedly-monogamous people who cheat (which is a huge percentage)? They are also more likely to use barriers and to practice regular testing. (Source: Dr Justin Lehmiller in The Journal of Sexual Medicine.)

Ultimately, you have to be okay with some risk of contracting an STI if you are going to be non-monogamous… or if you’re going to have sex at all. No prevention mechanism is bombproof. People lie, people cheat, and people make mistakes in the heat of the moment. You can mitigate the risk but you cannot entirely eliminate it.

If you want a closed relationship, stay monogamous or date other people for whom polyfidelity is their ideal choice. Don’t try to push people who would prefer an open dynamic into a closed one. Polyamory isn’t just monogamy with an additional person.

It’s Just Statistically Unlikely

Back in the days of Livejournal, Emanix wrote this article outlining some of the numbers involved in unicorn hunting. Not being a numbers person, I have no idea how mathematically sound this is, but the message is clear. Unicorn hunting is damn hard, with seeking couples outnumbering interested bi women by 100 to 1[4]. There’s a reason couples sometimes pop up complaining that they’ve been looking for a year, five years, ten years, and still haven’t found their “one.”

Remember: we call these people unicorns because it is so hard to find one that they might as well not exist!

[4] I pulled this number out of the air. I have no idea what the actual figures are. But suffice to say that if you’re a couple looking for a unicorn, the odds are hugely stacked against you.

You’re Probably Not the Exception

“We’re not like that!” you might be saying. “We’ll be different! We’ll treat our unicorn like a queen!”

I hate to break it to you, but you’re probably not the exception. This is because the inequalities, objectification, and mistreatment that make unicorn hunting so problematic are baked into the very structure.

The assumptions, beliefs, and practices that underpin a couple looking for a unicorn come from a place that causes harm. The only way to unicorn hunt ethically is not to do it.

So What Can You Do Instead?

If you’ve got this far and you’re still with me, great! So you want to be non-monogamous and you want to be ethical about it. Amazing! So what now?

Luckily, there are loads of ways you can enjoy consensual non-monogamy as a couple without looking for a unicorn. Here are just a few for you to consider.

If your priority is enjoying sexual variety and you want to do this together, try swinging. This enables you to enjoy different bodies, different kinks, and fun experiences together with other people who want the same. Many swingers do form friendships with their playmates, and sometimes these connections can turn romantic. Be clear about what you want and can offer upfront, look for others whose desires match, and you’ll minimise the chances of hurting someone.

If you want to build more romantic connections with other people, try dating separately. It might be more emotionally challenging, but it’s also tremendously rewarding. You’ll have far more luck finding dates, particularly with experienced and skilled polyamorous people. When you free yourselves and your prospective partners from restrictive expectations, you’ll allow things to flourish naturally. You’ll also most likely treat other people, each other, and yourselves better.

It’s also important to make sure you’re not using “dating separately” as a way of looking for a unicorn without seeming to be looking for one. Presenting yourself as available for solo dating, only to spring your partner on your unsuspecting date with a view to getting them together too, is not ethical.

Like the idea of both these relationship styles? Yes, you can be both polyamorous and a swinger! Plenty of people do both, or a mix of the two. There’s not even always a strict delineation. Polyam people can have casual sex, and swingers can have deep and romantic attachments. Non-monogamy is a spectrum and a world of options to choose from. It’s not a set of rigid boxes into which you have to cram yourselves.

There’s even the possibility that you can have a triad relationship without falling prey to these pitfalls and hurting someone. Plenty of people do. “No unicorn hunting” isn’t the same thing as “no triads.” But it won’t happen for you by going out with a laundry list of criteria and looking for a bi woman to be your unicorn as a couple. If it happens, it’ll happen organically while you are out there doing your non-monogamous thing.

And if not? There are numerous other wonderful, fulfilling, and healthy ways to enjoy this thing we call non-monogamy.

Naming My Sexuality: What is Sapphic?

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the words I use to describe my sexuality. I started identifying as bisexual when I was 17, having always experienced attraction to folks of different genders. But in recent years, this term has felt less and less adequate to describe an expansive and often confusing identity. As I’ve tried on different terms for my sexuality, the one that feels increasingly right is “sapphic.” Let’s talk about the definition of this lesser-known LGBTQ+ term and what it means to be sapphic.

Am I Still Bisexual? Yes… and No

I’ve always liked the term “bisexual” and proudly claimed it for a number of reasons:

  1. It feels extremely important to claim a label that people often dismiss as “not really queer” or “queer lite”, despite being literally the third letter in LGBTQIA+.
  2. It’s an easy shorthand that most people outside of the LGBTQIA+ community have at least some understanding of.
  3. Claiming an expansive definition of bisexuality (“attraction to two or more genders”) is important in pushing back against the false narrative that bisexuals only fancy cis people or that bisexuality is a trans-exclusionary sexuality. (They don’t and it’s not.)

So now I’ve started defining my sexuality as sapphic, am I also still bisexual? Yes and no. I’d say that I still identify as under the bi+ umbrella, given that I’m neither a 0 nor a 6 on the Kinsey Scale (“exclusively heterosexual” or “exclusively homosexual”, respectively.) Taken on its own, though, I haven’t been finding the label “bisexual” entirely accurate or sufficient to describe my reality.

Sapphic Sexuality Definition: An Expensive LGBTQ+ Identity?

So what is sapphic?

The official definition of sapphic is an LGBTQ+ term “relating to sexual attraction or activity between women” (Oxford Languages.) As a sexual orientation or identity, the LGBTQIA+ Wiki defines sapphic sexuality as referring “to a woman or woman-aligned person of any sexual orientation who is attracted to other women and/or women-aligned individuals.”

Fun fact: the term “sapphic” derives from the name of Sappho, an Archaic Greek poet who lived circa 630-570 BCE and whose work described erotic desire and romantic love between women. The word “lesbian” comes from Lesbos, the island where Sappho lived.

Why Identify My Sexuality as Sapphic?

As I said, I’ve played around with a lot of sexuality labels over the years and particularly over the last few months. Though I’m definitely somewhere on the bi+ spectrum, I’m also definitely not a Kinsey 3 (i.e. bang in the middle of the spectrum between exclusively gay and exclusively straight.)

I’m probably somewhere between a Kinsey 5 and a 5.5. That is, much more frequently attracted to people with similar gender identities and presentations to mine (i.e. women, femmes, and women-aligned folks) than to those with very different identities and presentations (i.e. men, male-aligned, and masc-of-centre folks.)

In truth, if I could name 100 people I found attractive right now, at least 95 of them would be women, femmes, or women-aligned. The men in my romantic life are wonderful (and it’s really “man”, singular, these days). But they’re also increasingly rare exceptions.

Sapphic as a Reclamation of Queer Visibility

Sapphic is an umbrella term for many different ways of being within queer sexuality. It can encompass people who identify as lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, queer, and in various other ways. What I love the most about this particular label is that it doesn’t necessarily mean exclusive attraction to women (in the way that the term “lesbian” is often assumed to, though even this is complicated. Bisexual lesbians exist!) It does, however, centre that attraction.

As a woman and as a femme, most of the world would conceive my sexuality primarily in relation to men. Specifically, the assumption is that I will be exclusively or primarily attracted to them and that, even when I am not, my interest in other women will be performed in a way that centres men. In fact, one of the most common biphobic and lesbophobic tropes is that queer women’s sexuality primarily exists for the titillation and enjoyment of men. (See “can I watch?” and “that’s hot” and “so if you’re bi, can we have a threesome?”)

People often assume that I’m “straight really”. They accuse me of just dabbling in queerness for funsies because my nesting partner happens to be male. I recently told a man who was trying to pick me up that I was “wayyyyyy towards the gay end of bisexual”. Somehow, all he gleaned from that revelation was “so I still have a chance?” (Reader, he did not.) Even—perhaps especially—when you’re loudly and proudly queer, heteronormativity can seem very very pervasive sometimes.

So yes. I think “sapphic” is the most succinct and accurate way to sum up my sexuality right now.

Choosing a term to describe my sexuality that specifically places my love for and attraction to women at its heart feels like a small act of reclamation and celebration for my queerness. Every time I think about referring to myself in this way it makes me smile. I think that means I am on the right lines.

[Toy Review] Avant Pride P8 Bi Pride Dildo

What better way to show your bisexual pride than through your sex toys? Today I’m pleased to be reviewing the P8 dildo from the Avant Pride range.

Avant Pride P8 Dildo: Details

The Avant Pride P8 by Blush sex toys is a hand-poured silicone dildo in the bisexual pride colours: pink, blue, and purple.

Avant Pride P8 bisexual pride dildo

Aesthetically, I love this toy straight away. Weirdly, it looks super shiny in the product pic but the real version is definitely more matte (though no less beautiful.)

The Pride P8 offers 6.9″ (17.7cm) in insertable length, and just under 1.5″ (3.8cm) in girth. It is semi-realistic in shape, with a veined shaft leading to a lifelike pronounced head.

The Avant Pride P8 comes with a strong suction cup base, allowing you to affix it to any solid surface. This toy is also harness-compatible. You’ll need a 1.5″ O-ring to pair it with your favourite strap-on harness.

Avant Sex Toys Bisexual Pride P8: In Use

This toy’s silicone is super silky, squishy and velvety. It feels lovely to the touch.

The Pride P8 dildo’s shaft is straight, but very flexible. It has tonnes of give which allows for comfortable insertion and thrusting, and it flexes with your body so you can angle it in the way that works for you. Honestly, if anything, I might have liked a little LESS flex. I occasionally found it hard to get the amount of G-spot pressure I prefer. I also would have preferred a little more of a curve to the shaft.

People who like girthier sex toys might find the Bisexual Pride P8 too narrow for their tastes. Personally, I love a good slimline dick sometimes (too much girth can hurt) and the P8 is an ideal size.

Avant Pride P8 bisexual pride sex toy in bi pride flag colors

With that said, the P8 still feels great in use. The ridges provide gentle internal stimulation and the head is just the right size and shape. I’m likely to reach for this dildo when my body is craving something gentler than my rigid toys.

Bi flag sex toy from Avant Pride dildo range

This toy is also anal-safe, thanks to its flared base. The Bisexual Pride P8’s slim design might make it particularly good for those who are just exploring anal play and find thicker sex toys intimidating.

Verdict

The Avant Pride P8 is a simple yet stylish, effective, and versatile dildo. It’s comfortable to use and visually gorgeous.

If you’re a bisexual babe (or ally) of any gender looking to show off your pride through your sex toys, you’ve come to the right place. The Avant Pride P8 retails from £40/$60 and is available from Good Vibes, Babeland, Shevibe, and Sex Toys UK.

I received this item for free in exchange for an honest review. All views are mine. Affiliate links appear in this post.

All the Things “You, Me, Her” Got Wrong About Polyamory

Regular readers might remember that I briefly flirted with a ridiculous quest to review and recap every episode of You, Me, Her, the polyamory-centered romcom that premiered on Netflix in 2016. However, this fizzled out somewhere in the middle of Season 1 because I ran out of time, energy and fucks to give about this stupid show.

By the way: if you enjoyed this post, you might also enjoy my review of everything The L Word: Generation Q got wrong about polyamory.

You, Me, Her was inexplicably well-received, receiving an average review rating of 84% on Rotten Tomatoes and 7/10 on IMDB. However, I suspect the vast majority of the watchers and reviewers were monogamous people who enjoyed this show as a titillating peek into what they imagine polyamory to be like. Amongst polyamorous people, though, it was pretty much universally trashed.

Heads-up that this review contains spoilers for the first three seasons of You, Me, Her.

In case you haven’t seen it, You, Me, Her is an American comedy-drama series following suburban married couple Jack (Greg Poehler) and Emma (Rachel Blanchard.) Bored with their marriage, both members of the couple hire much younger sex worker, Izzy Silva (Priscilla Faia.) When they both fall in love with her, they decide to enter a polyamorous triad. Chaos ensues.

Instead of reviewing this mess one episode at a time, I thought I’d bring you all the things I think it got wrong about polyamory – so far – in one easy post.

1. Triads don’t typically start with married couples hiring the same escort

Or: Izzy would never date these two idiots.

Izzy is a 25-year-old college student who is doing sex work to pay her way through university. Jack hires her for a date and, when Emma finds out, she does the same thing because that’s how mature, married adults slap a bandage on cheating, apparently. However, Izzy inexplicably decides she’s super duper into both of them for real. This would never happen.

Any sex worker in Izzy’s place would do her job, take the money, and leave this pair to work out their shit in suburban hell by themselves. Polyamorous relationships can start in lots of ways, but “we both hired the same sex worker” isn’t one of them.

2. Being polyamorous in Portland would not destroy your life

This show is set in Portland, Oregon, a city that is not only famous for being super liberal, but where I know for a fact there’s a huge polyamorous community. Sure, there are some conservative people there as there are anywhere. But the idea that being outed as bisexual and/or non-monogamous in fucking Portland would totally destroy Emma’s life is wildly unrealistic. If the writers wanted that narrative to work, they should have set it in rural Alabama or something.

3. Partners are not commodities that you have to share out equally

Jack and Emma agree that they each get “two nights with her… I mean you” (that is, with Izzy) per week. They then have a debate about who “gets” Izzy first.

Do I really have to spell out all the ways this is gross beyond belief? She’s a human being, not a pie to be shared out in equal slices. Ethical polyamory does not involve married couples treating third parties like literal toys.

4. Using polyamory to save a failing marriage never works

The entire You, Me, Her polyamory situation begins when Jack and Emma decide they’ll each go on dates with Izzy, then come back fired up and ready to ravish the hell out of each other. However, that’s not how polyamory works. That’s also not how feelings or sexual desire work. And once again, it’s objectifying as hell. They’re basically using Izzy as a human sex toy.

Opening up the relationship isn’t how you inject sexual spark back into your ailing marriage. “Relationship broken, add more people” is a cliche because people attempt it all the time and it works… literally never.

Also, can we talk about how angry Jack gets mad Emma comes back from her date and isn’t up for fucking him right there and then? Your partner doesn’t owe you sex just because they just went on a date with someone else.

5. Jealousy is inevitable, but courting it isn’t healthy

Jealousy in polyamory is normal and fine, as long as you deal with it in a healthy way. Trying to make your partner jealous deliberately in order to make them want you more is manipulative, cruel, and ineffective.

Jack and Emma use Izzy to make each other jealous. Izzy then uses Andy, who is a kind of dick but seems to be really into her, to make Jack and Emma jealous. No-one is having a good time.

6. Polyamory isn’t just for rich white people

Jack and Emma are the type of white, affluent, married professionals you’d expect to see at a swingers’ club. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, except that the polyamorous community is actually hugely diverse and we’re all bored as hell of seeing every representation of polyamory reduced down to “rich white people who don’t like fucking their spouses any more.”

7. No-one falls for two people at the same rate, at the same time, and in the same way

Unfortunately, this is exactly what Jack and Emma expect of Izzy. In fact, it’s pretty much what all inexperienced unicorn hunters expect of their new partners and it is wildly unrealistic.

At one point in the show, it becomes apparent that Izzy’s connection with Emma is growing stronger while her connection with Jack is developing at a slower pace. Instead of dealing with his feelings or communicating with his partners, Jack throws a fit and fucks off for several days.

8. You don’t have to live with all your partners (and most people don’t)

Jack, Emma and Izzy move in together almost the moment they’ve decided to give a triad relationship a go. Not only is this the mother of all bad ideas, it’s also just unrealistic.

Most people, regardless of relationship structure, want to wait until a relationship is stable and established before cohabiting is even discussed. Many polyamorous people never want to live with all their partners. Many of us have one nesting parter. Others prefer to live alone.

By the way: regardless of relationship set-up, the trope of three people sharing a double bed every night trope is sweet but unrealistic. Being the middle spoon is lovely for about five seconds, until you overheat or both your partners start snoring.

9. Extremely conservative, homophobic parents don’t come around in three seconds flat

When Emma’s parents visit, they inevitably find out about the polyamory situation almost immediately. However, they also transition from being hyper-conservative, openly-homophobic bigots who only care about Emma having babies to being totally chill with everything in less than five minutes of screen time (which equates to perhaps an hour in plot-time).

People can come around, of course. People question their assumptions when they are directly confronted with them by someone they love. But it usually takes more time than this, and often much more.

10. Communication, not sex, is the way to solve your problems

Whenever Jack, Emma and Izzy have a relationship problem, they just fuck and it all goes away (until it inevitably returns, of course, because they didn’t actually address it.) Sex is great but it’s not a way to fix problems. Only honest, open, and respectful communication can do that.

And by the way? Treating someone like shit until they leave and then chasing them through an airport is not romantic.

11. And finally, we are all monumentally sick of MFF closed triads

Many people assume that all polyamory is one straight, cisgender man with two bisexual, cisgender women in a closed triad. Polyamorous newcomers often assume this is the most desirable configuration. However, it’s actually a fairly rare set-up, hard to attain and even harder to maintain over a long period of time. Yet it’s the only fucking representation the mainstream media is willing to give us.

Can we move on to something more representative and less male-gazey already, please?

You, Me, Her review: a bad show with worse messaging

I am convinced the people who made this show have either never met a polyamorous person or don’t like us very much. This is bad representation. It furthers negative stereotypes, it romanticises behaviour that is at best toxic and at worst abusive, and it views polyamory through the “tee-hee look at these weirdos” gaze of the monogamous world.

There are two more seasons of this show still to come, so maybe I’ll watch them and come back with a full review when we’ve seen how it ends. On the other hand, maybe I don’t hate myself that much.

Did you enjoy this You, Me, Her review of sorts? If so, please buy me a coffee!