Hi, I’m Izzy, and a back injury put me out of commission for about a year and a half. Over my entire 24th year of life, I didn’t fuck, didn’t even think about fucking, and maybe went on two first dates; both that went nowhere. I was mostly just in pain and tired.
While my back still isn’t 100%, I’ve definitely gotten back in the game over the past few months. And as a polyamorous pansexual with an internet connection, who is just looking to meet people and have a good time, the sky is the fucking limit.
By polyamorous, I mean that I am capable of being romantically and/or sexually attracted to more than one person at a time. I would say that more people are this way than not, which is why 30%-60% of married individuals are statistically expected to cheat on their spouses, and definitely a part of why over half of marriages end in divorce. We’re animals. What we want and need changes all the time as we grow and gain new experiences. We’re horny AF. It’s nbd.
I mean, it is a big deal, because a big pillar of society is that if you don’t only fuck one person of the opposite gender until you die, and love it, you’re a bad person, and that’s still haunting a lot of people, but it ain’t haunting me. No chains of heterosexual monogamy rattling on my porch in the wee hours. No, sir.
And by pansexual, I mean sex, gender, and gender identity don’t define for me who I should be attracted to and who I shouldn’t. While, I of course notice these things, a thought like “Wow, she’s a woman so I can’t be attracted to her” is just not a part of my thought process. I have experienced within queer spaces, that some queer people are suspicious of trans, gender non conforming, or bi and pansexual people like me, sort of on principal. They don’t want to fuck us or really even respect us. They think we’re shady or playing some kind of game. For me however, thoughts like, “They are trans so I shouldn’t be into them” or “I can’t date this bisexual person because they identify as bisexual” aren’t really how I think.
“I think the most important part of dating is finding out what doesn’t work for you, regardless of your sexual orientation. And this can be a super shitty process. “
Unless you are also polyamorous and pansexual, you probably read those last few paragraphs as me buttering you up to let you in on my non-stop pornography grade bacchanalian sex fest, a la Tinder. You probably think I’m guest versing in threesomes for straight couples left and right, shouting “Mr Worldwide” like some kinda lubed up Pitbull. You’re probably thinking I moonlight as a pair of left handed scissors and daylight as a ball rest for a wealthy older gentleman.
For the record, I don’t really. I think Tinder and Bumble have been as kind and unkind to me as anyone else. We’re talking the Led Zeppelin song “Good Times, Bad Times” or maybe even “Dazed and Confused,” and not all the other ones about wreckless good old fuckin.
Straight and gay men and women always tell me they wish they could be like me, because it must be so easy to be ok with getting fucked by anybody and as many at a time as possible.
I’m not actually a walking perpetual gangbang machine, you guys.
Just because sex and gender don’t define my attraction, and I don’t think enforced monogamy works, doesn’t mean that literally nothing matters to me when it comes to who I date or fuck, or that I’m building a harem. Let me tell you, I have been on enough bad dates with all sorts of people (like, will go in my future stand up special bad) to know that there are a lot of things that don’t work for me. Tbh, I think the most important part of dating is finding out what doesn’t work for you, regardless of your sexual orientation. And this can be a super shitty process.
Over July-August I have met five men off Bumble and Tinder. One of them was incredible. One I thought was incredible, but turned out to be a dick. One is a dick, but he’s very open about it, and I respect that. One was haplessly immature in a way so common, that if you’re a millennial, you know at least 18 dudes just like that. And one I only hung out with for about 40 minutes, before he ran out of my house crying because he was having performance anxiety.
Definitely a mixed bag, am I right? We’re talking two different countries and an age range of 22-40.
If I were a man writing this, that would definitely be read as a brag. Since I’m a biological female writing this, the intent is less clear. Do I want to shock you? To disgust you? To tantalize? To make you feel concern? Or envy?
If it helps, I’m just tryna tell you some shit I seen. You can sort out however you want to feel about it on your own time. I’m not responsible for that. I’m just one human being that spent over a year in a sexless marriage with my TENS unit, who’s tryna have a good time and figure out what I like and what I don’t.
As someone who has been socialized as a woman, I feel like I’m doing something really important for me right now. Many women grew up reading magazines which told us how important it was to get bae, and keep bae, and be all you can be for bae, but no one ever really asked us what kinda things we wanted in bae. We’re told that if you aren’t hot or thin or white or whatever enough, you have to be grateful for whatever bae you get. If any man pays any kind of attention to you, hold onto him and never let go, because that’s all there is for you. And if anything goes wrong it’s your fault.
And that’s just not real.
Over this month I have learned so much about myself and what I like and what I don’t, that I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Even that one time where that guy I barely knew ran out of my house crying. Shit happens. If an ex-performer turned real estate agent in his late 30s cancels on you last minute, because he’s having issues with his divorce, don’t make it about you, man.
Just keep swiping.
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Isadora Teich is a freelance writer and traveler. They’ve written social media copy, tabloids, news, erotica, opinion pieces, quizzes, have worked on film scripts, and do some ghostwriting from time to time. Isadora lives for artistic experimentation and is working on a novel.