​“Hi my name is Tink and I’m a (something something) year old woman who is starting to date.”

I had been sitting with my partner having a bite to eat and telling him how I wanted to give myself grace as this whole “dating” thing is new to me. When he looked a bit suss at my statement, the words above popped through my head.

I smiled sheepishly. “It’s true’, I insisted, ‘I don’t have a lot of dating experience!”

Now anyone who knows me, would probably ALSO give me the side eye on this proclamation. After all, the relationship I’m in currently is not my first one by a LOOOOONG shot. And if you’re feeling a bit lost right now, let me get you up to speed on the silly wonderful fabulous situation I call “my norm”.

For those new to me, my name really IS Tink, and I am a polyamorous, bisexual, full time adult entertainer, and currently a software engineering student. My partner and I recently moved in together and BOTH of us date…separately. 

“How do you do it? How do you just accept that HE is with HER this weekend?”

The accusatory tone of the speaker was jarring. I was explaining that I’m in a poly relationship. That the man I love already had a married lover when he met me. That I didn’t even know he had “liked me liked me” at first. But when I found out, my world shifted and I suddenly found myself in the most wonderful loving healthy relationship of my life.

The skepticism was obvious on this person’s face when I mentioned my sweetheart was away visiting his lover and that no, I was not jealous of their relationship. Their connection had been going on a year + before I ever met any of them.

“I would NEVER be with a partner who slept around. If he’s mine, he’s mine only.” She said this with a harumph. 

Ahhhh there it was. The ever prevalent society accepted idea that we “own” our partners in any way shape or form. 

“He’s my everything”…

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes as another one of my friends pontificated on how the current man in her life had become the main focus of her world.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she meant it metaphorically, but it was the literal sense in which most of the women I knew took the sentiment that made me feel nervous.

Having someone be your “everything” is a lot of fuckin responsibility. And for the person expressing the feelings, it seems that all the other joys in life shrink to a very narrow idea. 

If he’s with her, she’s happy.
If he’s not, she’s not.

​I was standing in front of the full length mirror, light streaming in through the store’s front windows. The salesperson and I were both smiling. The dress was gorgeous. I felt gorgeous. There was absolutely no reason for me to buy this dress other than it was rare I found something that felt so right on my skin.

As most good things that come into my life, I had tried it on as a whim. 

It was the last one, on sale, at one of my favorite boutiques to window shop in. I rarely purchased anything in there for two reasons:

I don’t make a habit of buying something just for the sake of spending money.
The place was EXPENSIVE.

But the clothes were lovely, and being among beautiful things was a source of inspiration for me. So I had wandered in on this wonderful summer afternoon just to see the soft colorful fabrics and be on my way.

Until I saw this dress. And had to try it on.