It’s funny how time can change your perspective on things.

A few months ago I felt very high on life and my certainty that I was following this beautiful path down the road of polyamory. I thought, yes! I’ve finally found where I feel like I fit in with the realisation that different people offer me different things.

I didn’t have to put so much pressure on my on/off person, for example, because voila! I can get the consistency or communication that was lacking in that relationship from somewhere/someone else and just focus on what I do get from that relationship. I could see other people casually and still get that hit of emotional connection I feel with him and the two should balance each other out.

I felt confident in this approach. Happy. Excited even.

Until I didn’t.

At some point, after seeing several different people recently I mostly just felt like I had a never ending stream of people coming in and out of my life and none of them were really giving me what I wanted or needed. It just felt like I was ending up with the leftover scraps in each of these relationships.

And instead of feeling elated or excited by it, I just felt …exhausted. Disheartened, demoralised. I haven’t felt very motivated in any of the connections I’ve made recently. And I’m questioning it all again.

Am I actually poly? Or do I sometimes try to convince myself that being poly is for the best when it’s really something I’ve fallen into not my choice but by circumstance?

I don’t have any answers for those questions. But it is something that I’ll think about more.