Member-only story
My kitchen table poly is the bomb.com. It started with one partner who was funny, kind, caring, embodied, and believed in the ethical treatment of others whether that was ascribing to anti-racist practices, gender equity, or even just the use of yoga as a tool for the elevation of his feelings. Let’s call him Walker.
Walker’s partner is non-binary and I will refer to them using they/them pronouns for this article. Let’s call them Riley. Riley wanted to meet after Walker and I had gone on a handful of dates before I came to their house for the first time.
Riley and I met in a coffee shop. They were wearing a bulky Carhartt jacket, and we awkwardly stumbled through small talk. After about 25 minutes of us both pretending to be people we weren’t we both got into the real talk. Our coffee chat extended for another hour of us talking about everything from queer identities, gender expression, polyamory if we wanted children and even a few moments of tearful honesty about our past relationships.
“Walker is at the grocery store,” they said. “I am supposed to hang out with him this afternoon,” I reply. “Want to come to our place then?” They asked, I smiled. “Yes, let’s surprise him!”
Walker came into his partner and chatted about the store while I hid behind a wall. I then jumped out and surprised him! The look on his face was…
