December has always been a month of reflection for Me and many others. This year, I find myself particularly deep in thought but grateful for the courage to let go.
Living a 24/7 Female-led Relationship lifestyle isn’t just about what I’ve choose to embrace, it’s equally about what I choose to release. This month, I’ve been consciously clearing space in My life: friendships that require Me to hide who I am, professional connections that demand I soften My authority, even habits, routines, and possibly people that don’t serve the lifestyle I’ve worked so hard to cultivate.
There’s a particular freedom in saying “No” to things that don’t align with Me. Each boundary I set, each relationship I’ve allowed to naturally fade, creates room for something more authentic. I’m grateful for the clarity to recognize when something (or someone) belongs in My life and when it doesn’t.
The Weight of “Normal”
The vanilla world, including My family and “friends” have strong opinions about how I live. I’ve heard them all, in whispered concerns and outright confrontations alike.
They tell me that polyandry is unnatural, that loving and leading multiple partners means I’m incapable of “real” commitment or that I’m somehow damaged. Family members have suggested I’m doing this just to spite their best efforts to “raise Me right”. Exes have tried to convince Me I’m going through a phase. Former friends have accused Me of being selfish or manipulative. The message is clear: one woman with multiple partners challenges too many social scripts about female sexuality, scarcity, and possession.
They insist that 24/7 kink isn’t sustainable, that power exchange must be compartmentalized to the bedroom or it becomes abuse. Therapists who don’t understand the lifestyle have pathologized My consensual desires. Well-meaning acquaintances have sent Me articles about “healthy relationships” that describe everything I’ve built as red flags. The implication is always that I’m either a victim who doesn’t know better or a perpetrator who’s gone too far.
They claim that Female-Led Relationships will inevitably fail. They believe that male partners will grow resentful, that I’m emasculating them, that “natural” gender roles will reassert themselves. I’ve lost count of how many times someone has confidently predicted the collapse of My household, as if My happiness were a house of cards waiting for the slightest societal breeze.
The workplace presents its own minefield. I’ve learned to code-switch, to dim My natural authority in meetings, to laugh off comments about being “bossy” when I’d be called “decisive” if I were a man. The irony isn’t lost on Me that I can command multiple households but sometimes must carefully moderate My leadership in professional spaces. Dating profiles and apps are built for monogamous couples. Legal protections, insurance policies, and hospital visitation rights recognize only one partner. Every form I fill out, every “plus one” invitation I receive, reminds Me that My family structure doesn’t officially exist.
The isolation can be profound. There are holidays where I’ve had to help partners construct elaborate cover stories. Social events where I’ve attended alone rather than explain My relationship structure. Work after hours when I’ve chosen to just be “busy” vs trying to breakdown the nuances of ENM. Moments of crisis when I couldn’t share the full truth with people I’d considered close friends.
Grateful for the Struggle
And yet, I’m grateful. Deeply, profoundly grateful.
I’m grateful for these challenges because they’ve forced Me to continue to build something intentional rather than simply accepting what was handed to Me. Every obstacle has been an opportunity to ask: What do I actually want? What serves Me and My partners? What agreements do we need to make this sustainable? And those internal checks and balances are ongoing, even at this very moment.
The scrutiny has taught Me to be extraordinarily clear about consent, communication, and boundaries. When you know the world is watching for signs of dysfunction, you try to build something unshakeable. My relationships are more examined, more negotiated, more consciously created than most conventional marriages I’ve witnessed. Do they sometimes fail? Are there times when we have to admit actions and words aren’t aligning? That maybe someone bit off more than they could chew? Sure, we are only human after all.
I’m grateful to live in a time and place where building this life is even possible, despite its many, many complications. Previous generations of women in power-exchange relationships often had to hide completely or fragment their lives into disconnected pieces. Women who loved multiple people were branded with scarlet letters. Kink existed only in shadows and shame.
I have the privilege, yes, privilege, to be selective about what I let in and what I let go. I can build community with others who understand. I can find therapists who are kink-aware and polyamory-friendly (shout-out to My current one!). I can access resources, read books written by people like Me, connect online with others navigating similar paths.
The Practice of Letting Go
This December, My gratitude practice has become a practice of intentional curation. I’ve been releasing:
- The family members who refuse to acknowledge all My partners at gatherings. It hurt to create distance, but I refuse to treat the people I love as secrets or sources of shame.
- The friends who constantly question whether I’m “really” happy, as if My joy must be performance. Real friends trust Me to know My own mind.
- The professional networks where I have to constantly perform a more palatable version of Myself. I’m building connections in spaces that celebrate rather than tolerate who I am.
- The internalized voices that sometimes whisper I’m too much, too demanding, too unconventional. These voices were honestly never Mine to begin with, they were planted by a culture that fears powerful women who refuse scarcity.
Every release has been painful. Grief is real even when you’re choosing what’s best for you. But each letting go has cleared space for deeper connections with people who don’t need Me to translate or justify My existence. I know that this type of grief will come and go over the course of My time participating in such dynamics and lifestyle…and I’m okay with that.
Building in the Cleared Space
The space I’ve created has been filled with a richness I couldn’t have imagined when I was trying to make Myself smaller.
New friendships within the kink and select ENM communities, where I can speak freely about My (polyandrous) life. Partners who’ve grown more secure as I’ve stopped apologizing for our structure. Professional opportunities in spaces that value authenticity over conformity. A home that reflects our actual dynamic rather than hiding it behind closed doors.
I’m grateful for My partners, who choose this life with Me every single day despite the struggles. Who weather the questions from their families, who navigate the complications with grace, who trust Me with their imperfect submission even when the world tells them that their trust is misplaced.
I’m grateful for the community members who understand without explanation, the ones who get it when I mention juggling multiple schedules, who nod knowingly when I describe the particular challenges of leading an ENM household, who celebrate My successes rather than waiting for My failure.
Most of all, I’m grateful for the version of Myself I’ve become through this process over two decades. Letting go of things that don’t align has revealed what I’m truly made of. I’m stronger, clearer, more grounded in My authority than I ever was when I was trying to fit into boxes that were never built for Me.
Moving Forward
My gratitude practice has taught Me that clearing out is just as sacred as building up. Every “No” to misalignment is a “Yes” to My authentic self. Every relationship I’ve released has hopefully made room for future connections that nourish rather than drain.
To anyone else navigating alternative lifestyles in mainstream spaces: the challenges are real, but so is the endless possibility. You will face skepticism, judgment, and predictions of failure. Some people will never understand. Some spaces will never welcome you fully. That’s just the reality of the world we live in.
But you can build a life that’s truly yours anyway. You can find your people. You can create agreements and structures that work for you, regardless of whether they make sense to anyone else. You can be grateful for the opportunity to choose authenticity, even when authenticity is so fucking hard.
The vanilla world may tell you that what you’re building can’t work. Prove them wrong by building it anyway. And when you need to let go of the people and things that don’t support your vision, let them go with appreciativeness for the pellucidity and the space they leave behind.
The end of the year always reminds Me that gratitude isn’t just about what we have, it’s about what we have the wisdom to release.