Being in a three-person relationship can sound like a headline to other people, but in my home it often feels wonderfully ordinary. After nearly four years together and two years sharing a place, our days look a lot like anyone else’s. We argue about chores, message each other about milk, trudge through IKEA, and unwind with Netflix on a quiet weeknight. The biggest difference is that we are usually the only throuple in the room, and sometimes the only one anyone has ever met.
Polyamory might be more visible now thanks to TV storylines and celebrity chatter, but visibility does not automatically make real life easier. On Feeld, a dating app built for open minded dating and alternative relationship structures, interest in terms like polyamory and ethical non monogamy has surged, and threesome is still a common desire on profiles. The app’s co founder and CEO, Ana Kirova, has spoken about creating it after opening her own relationship, which mirrors how many people arrive at these conversations in the first place. Even so, living it is less about novelty and more about routine, patience, and a lot of talking.
My own throuple began almost accidentally. Paul and I had been together for seven years when we joined Feeld, curious but not looking for anything serious, and I was only starting to admit to myself that I was queer. Then we met Andrea at a cocktail bar in Stoke Newington, and I felt nervous in a way I did not expect because she seemed effortlessly cool. That tension snapped the moment a pack of French bulldogs waddled in and Andrea and I rushed over like kids, leaving Paul in the booth. A kiss at the end of the night became dinner, which became a whole weekend.
Our first date was in March 2020, right as Boris Johnson announced lockdown, and Andrea even texted as if that might be the end of us. Instead, we stayed close through group chats, memes, Zoom nights with RuPaul’s Drag Race, and photos of our cat, who appeared to adopt Andrea immediately. When we reunited, it was not awkward, it felt like picking up something that had been growing all along. From there, the questions started, especially the ones about jealousy.
Jealousy showed up sometimes, but it was not a deal breaker, it was information. I learned to trace that sting back to old insecurities, like the way school sports made me feel, rather than blaming my partners for feelings that predated them. Over time, I also found a surprising flip side called compersion, which is genuine happiness when two people you love are happy together. The practical side mattered too, because living together means rules have to evolve, and our set up includes multiple relationships to nurture, not just the group as a whole.
Family reactions have ranged from tear jerking to hilarious, including a birthday note from my dad welcoming Andrea before they had even met, and my mum laughing with relief once she understood I was not about to deliver bad news. Outside acceptance is less reliable, which is why we have sometimes simplified our story for landlords or avoided awkward assumptions in hospital rooms. Still, the moments that stay with me are the gentle ones, like meeting someone who barely reacted and casually mentioned she knew another throuple. That is the future I want, where love is met with curiosity or neutrality, not disgust.
What do you think makes relationships feel valid and understood in everyday life, and where do you think society still has the most catching up to do? Share your thoughts in the comments.
