Q: My boyfriend of eight months, K, and I are polyamorous. We started the relationship on that foot, and for a while I was the partner he spent the most time with. There have been ups and downs, but overall our relationship is solid and loving. However, recently we both started dating the same woman, L, and they have been spending more time together than with me due to my work schedule. They both reassure me that they love me and care for me deeply, but I am an anxiously attached person, and sometimes I have panic attacks when they spend more time with others/themselves and fear that they’re going to leave me. I’m working on becoming more secure via books on cognitive behavioral therapy, and I’m looking into in-person therapy. This is my first serious relationship, but not his (I’m 22, he’s 35). And while K has been superpatient with me, my worry and grasping is a point of friction in the relationship. K has told me he doesn’t want to be solely responsible for my sexual satisfaction and my need for constant reassurances that he cares. The anxiety has been flaring up most strongly concerning sex—we’re all switches, and K and L are both professional dominants. I feel neglected if K doesn’t penetrate me but he penetrates L, or if L gets to penetrate K via a strap-on and I don’t. He’s very good about voicing what he desires, while I’m learning to speak up despite feeling like I’m just being needy and grasping again. I love both my partners, but I’ve been feeling sexually neglected—and with a HIGH sex drive, it’s been quite painful. This is my first “trio rodeo,” and I really want to make it work—I’ve seen a future with K for a while (the I-want-your-children kind), and L is joining those future visions. How can I find a way to create more opportunities for sexy time and not ruin it with anxiety attacks? —BDSM Enthusiastic Lover on Voyage4 Emotional Durability
Committing yourself to therapy is a good idea, BELOVED. Everyone should commit to working on their emotional and mental health. You and your therapist can start by reevaluating whether a poly relationship is right for you in practice. In theory, you understand poly, and you may want a poly relationship. (Particularly if it’s the only way you can have K.) But as someone with anxiety issues and hang-ups about all sex acts being divided up equally, poly may not be right for you, or it may not be right for you right now. After a little therapy (or maybe a lot), who knows? (Also: Trying to portion out sex between three people like you would ice cream for three small kids—making sure each kid gets the exact same number and size of scoops—is unrealistic. Sometimes you’ll get more; sometimes you’ll get less. Eyeing those scoops too closely is only going to generate conflict.)
Advice professionals often urge us to confront exes who did us wrong—many find closure in those confrontations—but we rarely talk about reaching out to people who did us right (in every sense of the term). My first truly serious boyfriend, who I met at college, was a wonderful and very sexy guy who helped me grow in so many ways. He definitely left me in far better shape than he found me—like CTOFA, I was able to express my gratitude to him before he died and I’m so glad I did. (RIP, Tommy Ladd.)
