Single lesbian matches with poly woman on Tinder and accidentally screenshots a Snapchat

Alternative title: How I learned polyamory is not for me.

When it comes to relationships and dating, I don’t believe you have to try something to know it’s not for you. In fact, I think it’s ignorant and patronizing to tell someone that they should try polyamory to see if they’re not actually monogamous. “Everyone should try polyamory at least once!” is a really bad statement. I understand what polyamory is and disagree with it being a stable relationship construct long-term.

I do think a lot of people, especially those with toxic traits, are drawn to it because they essentially get to have multiple partners who can cater to their different needs — but are actually pursuing open relationships under the guise of polyamory.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) systems, where the body is in a marriage with a monogamous person, sometimes wind up dating that one spouse, thus putting the spouse into what is essentially a polyamory relationship. Alters in DID systems may also have their own relationship, complicating the matter because the body itself falls into the polyamorous relationship construct, but alters in a system should be treated like individuals.

My DID system is not polyamorous. If one of us got a partner (a primary host only, in our case) who was comfortable dating others in the system, that would be OK. But it polyamory is not something we collectively agree on.

When we matched, I didn’t realize she was poly until I went back to read her profile.

Regrets.

We got to talking, and for some reason, everyone is super ready to take conversations off the dating apps. This feels a bit like a red flag to me?? Dating apps have systems in place to protect you from harmful interactions and scams. But I did anyway. I gave her my Snapchat, not that I knew how to use it.

We started chatting shortly after the bionic woman, because it was winter storm and I really bored. This was my first attempt at Tinder, which I only joined because I thought it couldn’t be as bad as OkCupid and Her, and other lesbian-specific dating apps felt more like Model Mayhem than a dating arena.

My 15yo male cousin explained to me how to do Snapchat, like for real.

Then she wanted a selfie, so I sent her one.

And she sent one back.

And all this time, I was holding my baby cousin, Iah, who was sleepy but just refused to go to sleep.

My phone fell, and I grabbed it.

I have really, really bad luck.

The thing about my phone is that you need three fingers on a lit screen for a screenshot.

So if you grab your phone before it manages to fully fall to ground, WHATEVER YOUR INTENTIONS, it is going to capture the screen unless you are the ⚡Flash⚡ and can grasp it by the edges.

Of course Snapchat tattled on me.

Polly said, “What the fuck?”

And I was just like, “Wait, what? Hold on.”

I explained the situation to her. She didn’t seem to believe, but wanted to keep talking and later said she needed to spend time with her primary partner.

I didn’t know what this meant, so my autistic self went on a deep dive.

I didn’t like what I saw, and it reminded me why polyamory was not for me.

I don’t remember what happened, but we stopped talking shortly after that. I’m not one for rigid age standards in lesbian dating, but when the other person is in their early 20s and using an app that I’m clearly gonna fuck up, and we don’t share the same relationship style, it’s a good time to bow out.

The pressure to “vibe” with someone is annoyingly obsessive.