Your Rights. Your Privacy. Your Freedom.
 

“Why polyamorous people fear ‘coming out’”

Fusion

By Lux Alptraum

t long ago, I found myself chatting with a friend about the logistics of coming out to one’s coworkers. Given that I’m queer, and he’s a straight, cisgender man, it’d be reasonable to expect that it was my coming out that happened to be up for discussion. Reasonable, but in this case wrong: The coming out in question involved my friend opening up to coworkers about being one-third of a polyamorous triad.

Though my friend had long been quiet about his relationship status, a recent decision to share an apartment with the rest of the triad had put things in a new light. What if he wanted to invite coworkers to his home for drinks? Was it possible to have people over without that awkward conversation—or was coming out going to be necessary if he wanted to include coworkers in his life outside the office?

To monogamous people, the idea of coming out as non-monogamous, or polyamorous, might seem like a strange one. If your conception of non-monogamous life is wild sex parties, or “monogamish” couples who stoke the home fires with occasional extracurricular hook ups, then “coming out” can seem akin to just bragging to the world about one’s super crazy sex life. Sure, it might be something you tell a friend (particularly a friend you’re interested in having sex with), but do coworkers, or family, or the world at large really need to know?

For non-monogamous people, however, the situation can look a little different (and a lot more complex) than it might appear from the monogamous sidelines. While some non-monogamous people do fall into the “what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom” camp, others see being public about their relationship status as a personal, and potentially political, imperative. So what, exactly, does it mean to come out as “poly”—and why should it matter to the world at large? …