I’m in a throuple - a three person relationship - and sometimes I have to remind myself that a lot of people think that’s weird. Because for us, after almost four years as a throuple and two of living together, it’s just our lives. Our relationship isn’t wildly different to anyone else’s. We spend boring weeknights watching Netflix, we go to IKEA and get annoyed with each other in the Marketplace section we disagree on who should take the bins out, we text each other to get milk, we go on holidays together and to family events. But we are the only throuple we know. We don’t have throuple friends. And we’re also the only throuple most people have ever met. So I guess, technically speaking, it is kind of weird.
Alternative relationship configurations have been in the news a lot lately, thanks to shows like Channel 4’s The Couple Next Door, Netflix’s You, Me, Her or to high profile relationships like the one between Una Healy, David Haye and Sian Osborne. Dating app Feeld, which turns 10 this year, have seen a 400% increase in searches for ‘polyamory’ and ‘ethical non-monogamy’ among women, and ‘threesome’ remains one of their most commonly listed desires on profiles on the app, where users write a bio explaining to potential matches what they’re looking for. The app's co-founder and CEO, Ana Kirova, was inspired to launch the app when her and her partner decided to open-up their own relationship.
My own throuple came about more or less by accident - like a lot of relationships. Paul and I had been together for seven years when we joined Feeld, an app aimed at couples and polyamorous folks looking for threesomes (as well as more serious polyamorous relationships). We had talked about joining the app for a while. Paul and I knew we were solid in our relationship and we’ve always been pretty adventurous as a couple.
I’ve always known I was queer, on some level (though, like a lot of queer people I’d managed to do a scarily good job of hiding it, even from myself) and so we decided to dip our toe into opening up the relationship. We chatted about what this might look like for us. At the time, we agreed that this was something we wanted to explore together, and a threesome with another woman felt like the right thing (Paul is straight, I’m queer, so this was a relative no-brainer). At that time, we weren’t looking for anything serious. In fact, at that time, if you’d asked me if I thought throuples could work out long term, I’d probably have said no. Back then, I believed a lot of the misconceptions that people confront me with today. I thought that monogamy was the only real option because I’d never experienced, or really seen, any living examples outside of that. For most people, monogamy is the default, it’s the thing our parents, our extended families, the education system, films, TV shows, advertising, pop songs, all position as the one valid option: no wonder stepping outside of that feels impossible.
We’d been on a few casual dates with other folks by the time we met Andrea. Some of these had been a big hit and had led to fun hookups with people we are still platonically friendly with today - others were super awkward disasters. But hey, that’s dating, especially when it involves an app. We’d arranged to meet Andrea at a cocktail bar in Stoke Newington and for some reason I felt nervous this time - Andrea had a slick website portfolio of her graphic design work, she speaks three languages, she has that put together kind of style that I’d always envied. She seemed, there’s just no other word for it, cool.
I’ve always been a bit intimidated by coolness. After six months of dating, she admitted she’d felt exactly the same way about us. But that first night, the ice was broken very quickly when a pack of French Bulldogs waddled into the bar and Andrea and I (both dog obsessive) totally lost it, abandoning Paul in the booth to go say hi to our new dog friends. For the rest of the night the three of us chatted about normal stuff like our jobs, our interests, our friends, as well as what had brought us all to Feeld. Saying goodbye outside the bar, Paul did what I’d been afraid to do earlier in the night and asked Andrea for a kiss - I was relieved he’d made the first move because I was kicking myself for not doing it earlier. A couple of weekends later, we invited Andrea over for dinner on a Friday - we ended up spending the whole weekend together.
Paul did what I’d been afraid to do earlier in the night and asked Andrea for a kiss
That first date happened in March 2020. On the night Boris Johnson announced lockdown, Andrea texted Paul and I: it was nice knowing you guys :( But there had been a real spark there, and it didn’t feel right to just let it die. We’d all felt something special and so, through the lockdowns, we kept in touch. We watched Ru Paul’s Drag Race ‘together’ on Zoom, we set up a group chat to share stupid memes, updates about work, what we were having for dinner, and for Paul and I to send Andrea pictures of our cat (who somehow already preferred Andrea over us).
When lockdown eased, we met up and it already felt like our relationship had developed. We felt nervous again, this time that it’d be awkward - Paul and I had been in lockdown together, but we hadn’t seen Andrea in months. It wasn’t awkward. Another thing about our relationship that’s the same as any other is that cliche saying: when you know you know.
Some people ask if I was worried that I’d be pushed out somehow, or that Paul would decide that he ‘prefers’ Andrea over me. Back when I believed polyamory couldn’t work, I might have thought this way too, but this way of thinking misses a massive point: why would a person choose a preference when nobody is asking them to make that choice? People who cheat on their partners and are given an ultimatum (“it’s me or them”) might do this. In polyamorous set ups you get different things from different partners (more about this later). It’s not an either or situation. It’s also interesting to note that nobody, not once, has ever asked Paul: “Oh wow, aren’t you worried she’s going to run off with this other woman?” And the sexism inherent in that deserves a minute, I think.
Yes, there are challenges. Being in a relationship like this does take work. One of the most common things people say when they meet us is “Oh God, but don’t you get jealous?” It’s as though people think we must have some kind of super-human immunity to jealousy. Yes, we used to get jealous sometimes (not so much anymore). For me though, jealous feelings have ultimately been positive in the long run - teaching me more about myself than I’d ever have thought possible.
For example: why did I feel jealous when Andrea and Paul started doing work outs together? This feeling cropped up one afternoon and really surprised me, especially because I hadn’t felt jealous at all at other times - such as in sexual situations. I went for a walk by myself and thought carefully about where this feeling had come from and I realised it was rooted in hang ups from when I was younger. I always got picked last for sports at school, P.E. teachers were often unkind to me and I always felt self-conscious about that. And wow, that hang up had followed me into adulthood and I’d never even acknowledged it before. I talked honestly with Andrea and Paul about how I felt and realised I was bringing an old anxiety into a totally unrelated situation. So what if I’m not super sporty? That’s got nothing to do with what makes me an attractive person, or what makes my partners love me.
In the early days there were other small instances of jealousy - for example, when I went away for a weekend and Paul and Andrea went for dinner together. I briefly wondered if they were having more fun without me. But then I realised: I want them to have fun, because I care about both of them. There’s actually a word for this in polyamory: compursion. That’s a feeling of genuine happiness when two people you love are happy together, as well as with you.
When our relationship started to become more serious we started to reassess some of the boundaries we’d put in place in the earlier days. Initially we’d only go on dates all together, for example, but when you’re a long term throuple, when you live together, that’s just not practical or realistic. I mean, if one of us is away on a work trip what are the other two expected to do? Sit in separate rooms and just wait until that person get back? Obviously not. Just like any relationship, ours has evolved and so the “rules” have evolved with it. Our relationship involves a lot of communication and we’re not afraid to say when we’re feeling unsure about something or insecure. We reassure one another and we don’t let anxieties curdle. Who knew communication is the big secret to a good relationship, huh?In our throuple, we all date each other. There are different types of throuple set ups, including what’s sometimes called an ‘open-ended triad’ which is where one person dates two people, but those two people aren’t dating one another. In our set up, I really have four dynamics to think about: my relationship with Paul, my relationship with Andrea, our relationship as three people and (to a lesser extent) Paul and Andrea’s relationship with one another. If that sounds like a lot, well, it kind of is. But just because something is challenging sometimes doesn’t mean it’s not hugely worth it.
In a relationship like this you learn a hell of a lot about yourself and your own insecurities, and boundaries. In the earlier days of our relationship, I had a tendency to often try to step in if Andrea and Paul were having a disagreement - so much so that I started to jokily call myself 'The Moderator'. But after a while I realised this was another thing I was dredging up from my past (looking at you, divorced parents) and ultimately, trying to always smooth things over wasn't good for my own stress levels, or for the relationship in general. When I stopped doing this, Andrea and Paul learned better ways to communicate with one another without my help, and the relationship grew stronger because of that.
The best kinds of relationships help you to improve yourself. When Paul and I were a couple there were things we helped each other with, all sorts of ways we lifted each other up. And now Paul, Andrea and I continue to do that as a three. We celebrate each other’s wins just like a couple would. This year we’ve celebrated Andrea and Paul both landing amazing new jobs and me getting onto a postgraduate course at Cambridge University. Like any couple would, we take each other out for dinner to celebrate. We celebrate the big wins and the little ones. And there’s three of us, which just means more wins.We’ve been on a bunch of great holidays together. We prefer to sleep in the same room at hotels and we’ve never had an issue with this - although some hotels will insist we get a bigger room with an extra sofa bed, but this is just a case of them seeing an opportunity to charge extra.
At Christmas we're usually not all together - Andrea visits family abroad, while Paul and I stay home. We haven't been able to go with her in previous years, but definitely plan to in the future. We've made our own little tradition, having a mini Christmas on New Years Eve when Andrea is back, saving our presents to open together and cooking up a feast. And we always do lots of other traditional festive stuff in the run up. Last weekend we went to the panto (Hackney Empire) with an old school friend of mine and her two year old daughter. We've put up our Christmas tree already, decorated with a weird and wonderful collection of baubles that we've built up over the years. So Christmas as a throuple also isn't that weird either, I don't think.
Paul is not open about our relationship with all his friends, for fear that some of them might not be very understanding. For Andrea, visiting family means going home to a country where homosexuality is illegal
Our families, for the most part, have been not just accepting, but joyfully supportive. I’m acutely aware that not everyone is so lucky. When Andrea’s birthday rolled around, a few weeks after I had explained the relationship to my Dad, a bottle of Champagne arrived unannounced in the post. The note made us all cry. It read: To Andrea, Happy Birthday. We have yet to meet but I can see you’re making Abby very happy. Welcome to the family.
When I told my Mum, a stricken look crossed her face as I got all serious and said “Mum, I’ve got something to tell you.” When I’d finished explaining she burst out laughing and said “Oh thank god, is that all? I thought you were about to tell me you’re ill or something.” They didn’t necessarily understand straight away, but they could see we were happy and so they were happy for us. I’ll always be grateful for that.Of course, the world at large isn’t so accepting, sadly. Paul is not open about our relationship with all his friends, for fear that some of them might not be very understanding. For Andrea, visiting family means going home to a country where homosexuality is illegal.
When we moved in together we lied about our relationship, saying we were a couple and a friend, because we assumed no landlord would want to rent to a throuple. This brought its own host of problems as agent after agent refused to meet us because the landlord didn’t want ‘sharers’. This was despite us being three professionals with good salaries - this struggle would be ten times harder for a lower income throuple. Last year, when I went into the hospital with suspected appendicitis, the doctor looked at us with narrowed eyes. I’d already introduced Andrea as my partner. He looked at Paul and asked if he was… what? A housemate? Sure, I said, not wanting to invite invasive questions.
What we work hard to remember is that this stuff is coming at us from the outside. On the inside, we know that we love and support each other, even if some people still can’t, or won’t, accept that.
For the most part, people are curious in a well-meaning way. I’m happy to answer questions, even though they tend to be the same questions over and over. Don’t you get jealous? Do your families know? How does that work? Do you sleep in the same bed? This one, for some reason, is actually the single most common question. Yes, we do, I tell people, but it’s very large.
Sometimes (though, luckily, very rarely) people rear back like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head. They screw up their nose, sometimes they even say ‘eurgh’. These reactions come from a big tangled root of misogyny and homophobia that I don’t really want (or have time) to unpack here. People who react to love with disgust aren’t worth the energy.
Sometimes (rarely) people hardly react at all. That’s my favourite response - the one that barely happens. There are lots of reasons Paul, Andrea and I sometimes choose not to explain our relationship. It’s not always as serious as fear of persecution, sometimes we just can’t be bothered with the questions. But when a person takes our dynamic at face value, there’s no reason at all to hide. At a friend’s birthday recently, I mentioned that Paul, Andrea and I are a throuple and the lovely woman I was talking to didn’t bat an eyelid. When I commented on this, and told her people usually have questions, she shrugged. “I know another throuple, actually,” she said. I had a question then: would she introduce us?
Every time I write a piece about our lives I run it by my partners and I ask “Is this ok?” We would love to live in a society where our relationship is always ok, with everyone. The very fact that I’ve written this, and you’ve read this far, helps me to believe that one day this will be the case.
