Polyamorous, Demisexual, Gay, and Fifty

“How are you still single?”  I get that question a lot when people get to know me.  If you’ve read my blogs on how I got to this point in my life, you know that my last long-term relationship ended in 2011.  Some of you may also know that my last date was in 2016.  What very few people know is why.  Today, I’d like to explore that answer as we talk about labels.  Let’s talk about what it is like to be polyamorous, demisexual, gay, and over 50.  In other words, we’re going to talk about what it is like to be me.

The simple answer to why I’m still single is because I’ve chosen to be.  It isn’t the result of a curse or bad luck.  I just stopped trying.  Knowing how to navigate the dating world in a way that feels authentic has evaded me.  I’m not a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” kind of guy. People are complex.  I’m no exception.  Let’s explore some of the labels that add to the complexity.


I will be the first person to tell you that I think labeling everything is a bit out of control.  I’ll probably even say it while I crank out labels on my Brother P-touch and slap them on things all over my house.  Don’t get me wrong.  Labels are not the problem.  The need to shove everyone into one little box for the rest of their life is the problem. 

If a label works for you, great.  If you need more than one label, go for it.  There are people who don’t want to be labeled. They shouldn’t have to be. (Seriously, stop invading people’s privacy to force them to share things before they are ready.  It is selfish and wrong.) For those people who want to try a new label and change things up, they should be allowed to do that too.

Okay, I guess we’re really doing this

There are some labels I’ve avoided applying to myself out of fear.  Coming out as gay in the South was SO MUCH FUN (not), that I cringe at the thought of doing that again?  Labels tend to limit options too.  For example, if I say I like guys with red or blonde hair, then an amazing brunette might be afraid to approach me.  Likewise, just because I love Thai food doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy Italian.  No, that wasn’t a veiled reference to the types of guys I like.  Panang Curry is just that good. 

I’m trying to explain why I, and many others, are hesitant to share facets of themselves with the world.  Personality, mood, and desire are fluid.  Once a label is applied, it is assumed that the person is that thing forever.  It shouldn’t be that way.  Maybe this example will help. When I was five years old, I told people I was five.  That was a label.  Did any of them think I’d be five forever.  Did they think being five was all there was to me?  Of course not.  People change and evolve. Labels change and evolve with them.  Be open-minded enough to understand that before pigeon-holing someone. 

On the other hand, if you never let people know what you need, then your chances of them giving you what you need are slim to none.  So, I’m putting this out there.  I know I’m not the only person who feels like this, and things like this don’t get discussed enough.


Let’s start with the easy one.  I am strongly attracted to men.  Therefore, I tell people I’m gay.  If you know anything about the other labels in the title, you might have guessed it isn’t that simple.  I’m hesitant to write this next bit for fear my ultra-christian mother will see it and think, “Yes! There is hope that this is just a phase after all.”  No, my attraction to men isn’t a phase, but there has been one woman I was attracted to in this life.  She and I used to joke about how we’d “make gorgeous babies together”.  In all honesty, there were two other women that might have turned into attraction, but never got that far.

You might be asking, “Then why don’t you say you are bisexual or pansexual?”.  That would be a valid question.  Bisexuals are attracted to both sexes.  I am not.  Pansexuals are attracted to the person regardless of form.  That is closer to the truth than bi, but still doesn’t quite fit.  There has been one woman I was attracted to.  I was attracted to the person, not to the fact that she was a woman, if that makes sense.  This leads us to the next label.


Demisexuality basically means that a person doesn’t typically feel sexual desire towards someone else until they have some type of feelings for the other person.  I’m not saying that I need to be in love before sex is on the table.  For me, there just needs to be some type of emotional attraction to a person before I can enjoy a sexual relationship with them.  It can also mean developing an attraction towards someone in a traditionally non-sexual relationship as you get closer to them.  Hence, the one woman I was attracted to.

Demisexuality is both a blessing and a curse. Considering men tend to think with the head of their penis before the one on their shoulders, let alone their hearts, it is like being cursed twice. Think about dating, specifically gay dating.  It really is as bad as all the stereotypes make it out to be.  Online dating apps, and the people you interact with on them, will suck your soul right out of your body long before you find someone willing to suck on anything else.  It is all “no cock pics, don’t bother”, “send nudes”, “no strings attached”, or “hookups only”.  Even if you get a date, you won’t be getting a second one as soon as that person finds out he probably isn’t getting laid that night.  My year of fifty blind dates is proof of that.

I’ll let you in on a secret

It may not be like this for all demisexuals, but I don’t even think about a guy’s junk when I first meet him.  Big, average, long, skinny, wide…I don’t care.  All I need to know going into a new situation is that everything is functional should we get to a point when we both want to have sex.  I don’t even ask about that.  It is just assumed that if you are dating me, your equipment works, and I can touch it should we get to that point.  For a demi person like me, typical gay dating, especially online dating, is like an extended stay in the outer ring of Hell. 

(Why did I add that “can touch it part” to the explanation?  I added that after going out with a guy who didn’t want anything touching his little soldier.  For a guy who thought he’d seen or heard it all, that was a new one on me.  Don’t ask how that worked either.  This isn’t that kind of blog.  I’ll just say it didn’t work well…that’s for sure.) 

Don’t get me wrong.  I CAN have sex without feeling anything for the person, but I can also drink Robitussin when I’m sick or eat liver when I’m starving..  That doesn’t mean I enjoy either of those things.  Sex with another person needs to be more than just “getting off” to be good.  If it isn’t, then why bother?  I can take care of things just fine on my own.  If I’m making an effort to be social, I want more than that.

The other side of Demisexuality

Flip that demi coin over and you’ve got to face having feelings for, and possibly developing sexual desires for, inappropriate targets.  Friends, cousins, co-workers, people of a different sex than your identified preference…all potential possibilities to be mindful of.  Friends to lovers may be a common trope in romance novels, but most of your friends don’t really understand, or appreciate it, if they find out you have more than friendly thoughts about them.  Even when the friend doesn’t mind, the wives and husbands of those friends are going to cut you out of their lives due to sheer paranoid jealousy when they find out.  Ask me how I know.

This type of thing doesn’t happen to me as often as it used to, but it is a part of demi-ness that isn’t discussed often.  It can also screw with a person’s head the most too. I can remember feeling like even more of an odd duck because of it when I was younger.  Why do I keep having feelings for these people? Why do they treat me like feeling this way is wrong? If that is you, you are not broken.  There isn’t anything wrong with you.  Yes, you will probably need to learn to identify when these types of feelings are starting to develop so you can address them.  Addressing your feelings like a mature adult does not mean changing who you are though.  Remember that.


Polyamorous means engaging in multiple relationships, usually of a sexual nature, at the same time.  No, this does not mean that I’m just another sleazeball looking to score as much as possible.  If you made it this far and think that, you were skimming. Go back and re-read.

To be honest, I don’t really know if this label even fits.  It is also the label I am most hesitant to talk about because, in my mind, it is the one that might cause me to miss out on a great experience with one guy because he’s constantly worried that I need more than him to be happy.  All I can say, is that I’ve been in traditional, monogamous relationships for my whole life.  Just because I’m open to non-traditional relationships doesn’t mean that’s a deal breaker. Labels and life are fluid, remember?

Why did I worry this label might not fit?  That’s easy.  I’ve had a couple of three-ways which were disastrous.  I thought for a long time, it meant I wasn’t polyamorous after all. Having come to terms with the fact that I’m demi, I can look back and understand why they failed.  It was just sex with strangers. That rarely works out with one person for me. Why would two be any different?

Pack Mentality

Now, let’s talk about why I still believe I am polyamorous. I’ve always felt like I should be in a pack rather than alone or even in a couple.  If you don’t like the canine reference, then substitute coven or chosen family. Whatever floats your boat. Having a boyfriend is great, but having two boyfriends who also care for each other sounds even better.  Being part of a couple just never seems to check off all the boxes when it comes to my emotional needs.  Having just one person to take care of never felt fulfilling either.  It just always seemed more natural and right if a group of people who loved and cared for each other came together as a unit. 

Even though I’ve always known this about myself, I’ve never been brave enough to voice it to the people I dated.  Figured it would just register as “Oh, he wants a 3-way.  What?  Am I not good enough?”  The male ego really is a fragile thing, ya’ll. I should know. I’m a man with an ego.

Things really hit home for me when I read “More Than Everything, Family Edition” by Cardeno C.  After the Harry Potter books, that book goes down as my most re-read book ever.  What Charlie, Scott, and Adan build together…that is what I want.  Not with my two ex-husbands mind, but with two other people.  If you haven’t read the book, you should.  As a funny romance, it is awesome even before you add in the polyamorous aspects.

Author’s note

If you are looking for another great book exploring polyamory, “The Life Revamp” by Kris Ripper comes in right after “More Than Everything” on the list of most re-read books. The entire Love Study trilogy is great and deserving of a read when you have time.

If you want to find some great slow burn, gay romances, I can also recommend Anyta Sunday’s Signs of Love series. There have been one or two in the series that only rate as good, but most of them rank as great. I had trouble putting at least half of them down at all meaning I read those books in one sitting.

Back to the topic at hand

Finding a pack is easier said than done though for someone like me.  Do a search for “polyamorous gay couples” or just search for “throuple”, and read how they got started.  Every article I’ve found starts with “met one or both people in a current relationship, had sex immediately, and decided to keep doing that till we fell in love”.  Meeting one man who wants a slow burn romance is hard enough, and here I am admitting I’d like to find two of them.  Oh well, no one ever described me as someone who shies away from a challenge. 


Age is such a silly thing to focus on, but in gay society, it means almost as much as the size of your…um, assets.  I say almost because apparently, if you have assets of porn star proportions, age doesn’t matter.  For those of us with more human proportions, trust me…age matters.

When I turned 26, I was told that I “wasn’t chicken anymore”. That didn’t bother me. I despised the description. When I hit 35 and was told that I was “basically dead”, that bothered me.  The whole shtick about Grindr sending me a death certificate if I’d still been on it was a bit much.  I was with my second husband though, so I didn’t let it get to me.  Fast forward to him dumping me a little more than three years later so he could buy a Mustang convertible, join a gym, start wearing far too much cologne, and date other people…then, “being dead” bothered me. 

One of my longest friends, Laura, met her younger, total hottie of a husband when she was in her late 40’s.  In my mind, that meant there was still hope for me.  That was over 10 years ago.  Now, I’ve crossed over into 50.  Hope doesn’t shine as brightly.  (FIFTY…good lord that even sounds old.)  It doesn’t help that I don’t feel or even look 50.  Heck, I was still getting carded until I was in my 40’s, and I am not complaining about that AT ALL.  I wouldn’t even change the fact that I still deal with acne at 50, but like everything else, it isn’t all sunshine and roses. 


People hear you are 50 and automatically conjure an image in their mind.  You did it.  I know you did.  I do it too. If the person is younger, 50 sounds SO old.  If someone wants a daddy, they don’t want someone with my looks.  Trust me, there are men in their 30’s that look more like a daddy than me.  People who may think I’m attractive at first glance seem to forget that initial attraction when they learn my age.  Older men tend to lose interest when they realize I only look younger than my age.  I don’t act young.  I’ve got my own money and don’t settle just because someone else wants to throw their money my way.

Friends tell me to just lie since I don’t look 50.  Can’t do that.  Lying is despicable.  I think back to all those dates where someone posted a picture that was clearly twenty or more years old, or of a different person entirely, or who described themselves as “in shape” while sporting a waist wider than two of me.  I can’t do that to someone else.  A relationship built on a lie is not the way to go.  So yeah…fifty.  YAY?!?  Jury is still out on that.

New Year, Same Me

Polyamorous, demisexual, gay and fifty.  That’s me.  At least those are some of my labels.  We could talk about others like painter, smartass, bookworm, he/him, firebug, quilter, pyrographer, blogger, introvert, gamer, geek, Ravenclaw, tech junkie, etc., but those were the four I wanted to talk about today. 

Recently, I was talking with my friend Joy about Hunter Doohan’s character Tyler from Netflix’s Wednesday and how I’d like to meet a nice, romantic guy like him.  Yes, I know how the show ended.  No relationship is perfect. More importantly, did you see Hunter’s smile?  His smile could make me forgive A LOT.  <Swoon>  Joy’s response was “New Year, New You”.  That wasn’t her entire response, but this is my blog.  I get to be the wordy one here.  I know what she meant though.  I’m just not sure that is the right way to look at it. 

It is a new year.  Admittedly, I am tired of just existing. I don’t think I need a new me.  Embracing more of the real me rather than hiding him is probably a better way to go.  I’ve waited for years for a knight in shining armor (okay, maybe two knights or a knight and his hot squire) to find their way to my door and refuse to give up until they won me over.  It hasn’t happened.  So, in 2023, I figure I should at least let people know what I’m about.  It seems as good a place to start as any.

What about you?

Does any of this ring true for you?  Did you think, “OMG!  I thought I was the only one who felt this way.”, as you read this blog?  You’re not alone.  I’d love to hear about it in the comments.  Comments can be as anonymous or as public as you like.  The identification fields are optional.

Do you have a wonderful, funny, cute friend, or couple, who thinks the right guy is just going to show up in their living room?  Pull out your bow, quiver, diaper, and wings and play Cupid for us.  It’s the start of a new year…everyone needs a bit of good Karma to counteract all the fun things you’re going to do over the course of the year.  Play matchmaker.  It is still a valid profession.  Maybe you’ll find a new calling. 

Regardless of what happens, if there is a label you’ve struggled to accept, I hope 2023 can be the year you start learning to embrace more of who you are. 

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