Coming Out To Your Christian Family as Polyamorous

It's not easy, and it might not be pretty.

Photo from Jess Bailey Designs for Pexels

This might not be specific to a lot of people subscribed to my Substack, but I felt, to use a Pentecostal phrase, a “tug at my heart” or maybe even a calling to write this post. And if it’s helpful to even one person, that’s worth it to me. So here goes nothing.

There are a million articles out there about polyamory. Most of them come from the perspective of “opening up your marriage” and are aimed at cishetero couples who probably just want to try a threesome or something. There are also a lot of resources about polyamory from an individual, emotional sense — like, for instance, how to deal with jealousy. Or how to ethically date other people. Or staying safe with STIs. Or navigating through the endless amounts of terminology related to non-monogamy in general, some of it quite exhaustive and exhausting. And of course, there are also millions of articles about coming out, too, and people more explicitly involved in LGBTQ circles can offer advice about that.

As far as I know, there’s not a lot I’ve read about coming out as polyamorous to people in primarily Christian, conservative circles. For me, personally, the jealousy, the dating, the inter-relationship dramas, the immersion in polyamory culture, the adaptations in my marriage and family — that wasn’t the hardest part of being polyamorous to me. The hardest part was coming out to my conservative family. By far. But, here’s why I did it anyway.

1. I don’t think my kids should lie for me. Before I officially became polyamorous, I didn’t just feel like I was attracted to other people besides my husband. I was actively falling in love with other people besides my husband, while still being madly in love with my husband. I’d always felt attracted to multiple people even before I met him. So, the sort of relationships I have are not just sexual, but emotional, which is why I am polyamorous instead of just open or non-monogamous. It’s easier to keep non-monogamous, casual relationships under the radar, but much more difficult to keep established, important relationships secretive. I haven’t had much in the way of casual sexual relationships, but I only introduce my children to people I trust completely and have an established, ongoing relationship with. They know when other adults are affectionate with each other, and spend the night at their house. And when they are aware of our relationships, I do not think the onus is on them to keep it secretive — much less lie to anyone about it. It’s totally unfair to them. And it makes them think their parents are doing something wrong, when we’re not.

2. I think it’s disrespectful to my non-legally-binding partners. In the eyes of the law, my spouse is the only partner who matters. But to me, both my primary partners are of equal importance. I live with both, I’ve planned a future with both, I wear rings for both, I share finances with both, and I’ve committed my life to both. My secondary partners are also important to me as well. I don’t like keeping them “hidden” from the world. In the case of my non-spousal primary partner, I don’t even know -how- I could hide things. I love my partners. I’m not ashamed of my relationships with them. Why should I treat them like I am? Why should I have the good, “real” partner and keep the rest hidden under a rock?

3. I have the privilege to be able to be out. I do not rely on my family for any financial reasons. I do not live near my family, and I do not require them for childcare or anything else. Neither do my partners. I have a job in which nobody cares about my relationship status, and so do my partners. I’ve already made a tiny bit of a career being outspoken. I live in a relatively progressive part of Virginia. I have a support system in my partners, friends, church, and community here, and access to therapy to discuss any ongoing issues. The fact that I had kids made it a lot less likely that my family would want to cut me completely out of their lives. This is really, really important — privilege often plays a part in voluntarily coming out.

4. I wanted to remove the stigma. I’m often one of the only openly polyamorous people that my friends know. (I promise you, there are a ton more who are under the radar.) I’m almost certainly the only Christian polyamorous person, or maybe the only polyamorous mom they know. Since I have the privilege of being open, I choose to do so. Privacy is the language of shame, and I have no shame in loving more than one person. Not as a mom, not as a wife, not as a person with mental illnesses, and no, not even as a Christian.

5. I’m super bad at lying and secrets. I’m open. I’m honest. I’m a writer. I love connecting with people. I’ve always been this way, and I don’t know how to be any different. I don’t know how people are able to sit with big huge secret lives and not reveal them to people.

Here’s how I came out to my parents: on accident. I tweeted something about it really early on in 2016. I didn’t realize my parents were following me on Twitter. They read the tweet. They were devastated. I spent the next several months going back-and-forth in texts with them, about hell and sex and marriage and love and the Bible and all sorts of things. It was often heated and emotional. The thought of me being polyamorous often tormented my parents. They preferred not to think about it or acknowledge it.

Then I met Ty, and realized that this wasn’t just a short-term relationship. And, he was single when I met him. He didn’t have another primary partner, as my previous partners did, so he didn’t have his own established life with kids or whatever. His life became established -with- mine. With my family. And when he moved in with us last March, I knew that I would have to not just be open with my parents, but I’d have to be open with /everyone/ now. My in-laws. My extended relatives I never see. Random people from my hometown; the subject of endless gossip, I’m sure. Everyone who follows me diligently on social media, consuming my content ravenously. And so I did come out! And I don’t regret it, not even a little bit. Even though it was not easy.

It’s hard to come out to your conservative family.

But if you feel like you want to do so, I have some tips and advice for you going forward.

• Prepare for the worst. I mean it. Your family might never speak to you again. They might feel hurt, or betrayed, or like they failed somehow. They’ll try to blame things — in my case, my mental illness was often a suspected culprit as to why I “chose” to be polyamorous when my family discussed it with me. (I’ve been obsessed with romance for as long as I can remember, and have known I was bisexual since I was a young teenager.) They might condemn you to hell. They might withdraw financial support and emotional support. You might spend holidays without them. Have a plan for this, talk to a therapist about it if you can, and have a way to safely come out. And realize that even if they DO seem okay with it at first, they may end up rejecting you later as they realize it’s not just a phase. That happened to someone I love.

• Give them space to deal with it. If they are still open to having a relationship with you, let them explore their emotions, hopefully in a productive and respectful way. There are a lot of blueprints for LGTBQ kids to come out to conservative Christian family, and lots of examples of it in media and in real life. Almost all conservative Christians know someone with a kid who has come out as gay or trans. It’s a lot more mainstream. And the generally accepted science by everyone but the most extreme people is that being gay or trans is not a choice, and that conversion therapies are dangerous. Most parents don’t want their kids to kill themselves over something they can’t help. With polyamory, it’s still seen as a willful choice. Polyamory is immediately and totally sexualized by people. It’s rarely portrayed in media as a loving, healthy, normal thing. People who have been taught their entire life that anything outside of American marriage between a Christian woman and a Christian man is WRONG aren’t going to understand the nuances of your dramatically different life. If you’re able to be open, honest, vulnerable, and direct without backing down from your convictions — do it.

• Create boundaries and stick to them. My family is not allowed to talk down to my partners. If they want to visit me, they have to visit my house with both my partners living there. They have to treat them with kindness and respect. They are not allowed to talk down about polyamory or my partners to my children. They are not allowed to send me disparaging articles about sin or hell; I already know the theology they believe and there’s no point in going in circles with it. Conversely, when I visit my parents, they prefer that I not sleep in a bed with Ty — they don’t really have enough room, either. Daniel and Ty do not date; they do not sleep in the same bed. (Practically, polyamory is often difficult and more expensive for visits, so please keep that in mind.) So, the onus on me would be to either get a hotel, or honor their wishes in their house. Christmas was canceled by COVID, but my arrangement for visiting them in Nashville was going to be that Ty stayed with my sister and her family, while Daniel and I and our kids stayed at my mom and dad’s house, since they all live nearby.

• Offer your family resources about polyamory. There are a lot of books about polyamory out there, and even more articles. Find them. Share them with your family. I wish there were healthy depictions of polyamory in media, but that doesn’t exist at a widespread scale yet — but I’ve heard good things about Sense8. The growing pains of being part of an emerging culturally acceptable relationship structure are often painful, but the more you can be honest and open about it, and the more you can educate others about it, the better it will be for widespread acceptance. People don’t like the idea that we should educate others about our lives, especially on topics that feel so intense and emotional to us personally, but the truth is that some of us need to be willing to do the work to impact cultural change. I’m very, very much NOT a believer in the whole “educate yourself, I’m not doing the labor!” thing.

• Decide what you believe in regard to their religious beliefs. Do you think the religion of your family is bullshit? Maybe you’ve already come out as an atheist or agnostic or something, so being polyamorous wouldn’t be as shocking to your family as it was to mine, since we are still actively practicing Christians. Maybe you /haven’t/ come out with the “truth” about your religious beliefs (or lack thereof) and saying you’re polyamorous will lead to a larger and more in-depth discussion about what you actually believe. If you are still religious, how do you find your religion compatible with your lifestyle? Is it more a literalist, Biblical-style polygamy? Do you practice a more liberal and progressive faith? Your religious family will absolutely ask you theological questions about everything, so be prepared.

• Take space if you need it. Coming out as polyamorous to people who might not be accepting is exhausting. Like, so horrifying that many people never, ever do it. If you need to take some space from your family for a while, do so. You get to determine who is part of your space and your life.

• Find a community. Go online right now and find polyamory groups on social media or Reddit to join. If you’re lucky enough to have a local polyamory group, join it too. Knowing that there are other people who are going through the same thing you’re going through can be the most powerful feeling in the world. You can google polyamory + any term you identify with. Race, gender, mom, Christian, bisexual, mental illness, whatever. You CAN find resources, and you CAN find people to connect with. You need support, especially if your family rejects you. Therapy is good, but community is often even more healing. (I choose both!)

• Don’t demand perfection from yourself. Whenever we decide to rebel against our familial teachings in some way, we stubbornly want to prove to our family that we’re making the right choices. But you’re allowed to fuck things up for yourself. If your polyamorous relationships don’t work out, that doesn’t mean you “failed” at it. When you date more people, the likelihood of breaking up with them increases too. It’s just math. I’ve had a few failed relationships since embarking on the polyamory journey. That doesn’t mean I’m not polyamorous, or that polyamorous relationships don’t work out. Monogamous Christians get divorced EVERY SINGLE DAY, and nobody questions if it’s /monogamy/ to blame for the downfall of the relationship. One of my biggest fears is that either of my primary relationships don’t work out. But if they don’t? I still don’t regret it. Our relationships were not failures. They’ve brought me joy, and I love them deeply. Things don’t have to last forever to be successful.

Coming out to your conservative family might be one of the most painful things you ever do. But if you’re in a visible polyamorous relationship like I am, it might be necessary. If you need any specific advice about coming out to your family as polyamorous, you can reach out to me and I can try my best to help. Whatever journeys you take, or don’t take — I’ve got your back.