Broadly, polyamory is the consensual practice of engaging in multiple romantic relationships—but it takes many forms. Parker and his partners have chosen closed throupledom: All three of them are sexually and romantically involved with each other, and they don’t date outside of their threesome.

“While we believe that love isn’t finite and there’s so much out there, you only have so much time and so much energy that you can give to others,” Parker says. “We kind of joke around that we’re at our bandwidth limit; we don’t have anymore for anyone else.”

Admittedly, I had some preconceived notions about non-monogamy: Is it for people who don’t want to commit? Does it only work if you never get jealous? But during my conversation with Parker, it quickly became clear that everyone in a relationship—monogamous or not—could learn something from the tenets of polyamory.

While the concept of non-monogamy isn’t new, it seems as though, in recent years, attention to—and interest in—polyamory has reached a fever pitch. Slate even went so far as to call it mainstream, citing Peacock’s new show Couple to Throuple as an example of how far we’ve come. 

That might be an overstatement—in 2021, researcher Rhonda Balzarini told Psychology Today that “anywhere between 26 to 43 percent of individuals who practice [consensual non-monogamy] report experiences of stigma and discrimination”—but, at the very least, recent data shows a shift in perspective is happening. 

According to 2024 stats compiled by SexualAlpha, 31 percent of Millennials consider themselves to be in a non-monogamous relationship. In 2021, Frontiers in Psychology found that one in nine Americans engaged in polyamory at some point in their lifetime

Slate looked at various studies to conclude that “two or three percent of all American adults are, by agreement, not strictly monogamous … [which] works out to millions of people—similar to the prevalence of peanut allergies.”

In February of this year, Ana Kirova, CEO of sex-positive dating app Feeld, told Axios that the pandemic may have driven individuals’ interest in non-monogamy. Lockdowns gave people time to think about their sexual identities and desires, she suggests. And the data backs her up: According to Kirova, Feeld has seen “a 500 [percent] increase over the last three years in the number of app users including the terms ‘ethically non-monogamous’ and ‘polyamorous’ in their profiles.” 

But some people, like Parker’s husband, Alex Aragon, have practiced polyamory for much longer. Aragon was in a five-year marriage with a man and a woman before moving to Salt Lake City, Utah, and meeting a then-26-year-old Parker. “I was still a closeted Mormon kid. He made the first move and asked me out,” Parker says. “We ended up dating. He was one of the first major relationships I had, and he helped me come out of the closet.”

Aragon was the first to bring up polyamory. Parker says the concept wasn’t completely foreign to him, since he’d grown up in the Mormon faith, in which polygamy was once common. Three years into their relationship, they started seeing other people and eventually moved to San Diego.

“When the two of us started dating polyamorously, there definitely was messiness. It was a lot harder, just because you don’t know how to react to things,” Parker says. “But as time went on, there were lessons learned; your own boundaries start being understood more.”

Every new relationship involves a learning period, where you’re figuring out how your partner wants to be loved and how that differs from past partners. In polyamory, that’s amplified, and practitioners have more practice than most at letting go of limiting ideas about how relationships can and should look. 

“Each individual that came in and dated us was different, and they would each have unique things that we would have to learn with them [and] go through disagreements,” Parker says.  “When you have two different people that have different preferences and different love languages … it’s so important to focus sometimes on how your partner needs to be loved rather than how you like to love other people.” 

Making it work requires a powerful level of communication and honesty: constant check-ins, early discussions of boundaries, and the willingness to voice desires and fears. 

“Some of that wisdom could be applied to every other relationship,” says Dr. Marie Thouin, a dating and relationship coach and expert in non-monogamy. “I think everyone should import some of the wisdom from non-monogamous communities, including compersion—the idea that love is not about controlling one another, but it’s about empowering one another to be our fullest self.”

Successful polyamory involves creating a safe space for everyone involved to explore their boundaries, feelings, and thoughts—including those about safety. In cases where two people are primary partners but have opened their relationship to include others, for example, “They may have an agreement that says, ‘Okay, we don’t wear condoms or barriers with each other, but every time we have sex with someone else, we wear a condom and maybe we get tested every two months,” Dr. Thouin says. Then, they’ll share their results with everyone they’re sleeping with, no matter what.

This stands in stark contrast to the myth that non-monogamous people are uninterested in commitment. In fact, they spend a lot of time cultivating and maintaining the connections in their life and learning other people’s needs.

They’re also not supremely evolved beings who’ve magically removed the jealousy gene. “When jealousy and insecurities come up, the idea is not to eradicate [them], because that’s impossible to do,” Dr. Thouin says. “Non-monogamous people know that. They reassure each other.”

The takeaway for my own monogamous relationship? Communication is key. I want to create a space for my boyfriend to share when he’s feeling insecure or unseen. I also need to work on expressing myself more instead of shutting down—a trait I’ve picked up over the years due to fear of others getting upset with me. 

I’ve heard from friends who have used Feeld that it’s refreshing to speak with its members because of how open and upfront they are about their wants, needs, and desires. Better communication right away could ease the process of meeting someone who shares your values and weeding out those who may not be a fit. 

What about you? Have you ever explored consensual non-monogamy? Would you? Let me know your thoughts in an email at [email protected].

Lastly, thanks to all who came out for our first singles mixer to celebrate six months of the column. After this week, we’ll be moving to a bi-monthly schedule—catch a new article back here on Friday, September 13.

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: Consensual Non-Monogamy appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

And the evidence is more than anecdotal—according to a Forbes Health survey this year, 78 percent of respondents reported experiencing dating fatigue “sometimes, often, or always.” That’s a pretty large number of burnt-out people when you consider that around 60 million people in the United States are using or have used online dating services. 

As a 42-year-old woman, this feeling has resonated with me for some time. Single millennials are essentially aging out of the “fun zone” of dating and are now carrying more relationship baggage than in our 20s—me included.

But tonight was about holding onto hope and not letting the numbers affect my evening. My outfit was a little black number that was equal parts baby doll and ’90s slip dress. I paired it with frilly ankle socks and mules. I felt cute. 

It has been three-and-a-half years since I’ve dated anyone, let alone felt attracted to someone. In that time, I’ve worked on myself and my career to become a more confident person and a better partner for someone someday. I was finally feeling ready to get back into the dating world, and the 10 and 10 Club seemed like the easiest way to get my feet wet.

When I arrived, I was greeted with an excellent soundtrack, a cheeseboard, and some social lubrication (thank god for Champagne) and started mingling for the first 30 minutes. During the night, we coursed through each of the three tables to ensure that everyone had the chance to meet. At these tables, we could ask each other questions from a printed list or play games such as flip cup. 

The questions varied from mirthful to deep. My group chose to ask questions—our red Solo cup skills were pretty feeble, but our vulnerability game was on point. Well, everyone’s but mine.

I play things close to the chest. I’ve never been in a committed relationship, though I’ve experienced plenty of situationships and have been intimate with men I’ve found attractive along the way. So, when talk of “deal breakers” and “most romantic gestures” enters conversations, I tend to clam up. I feel like I have nothing to offer and don’t want to run the risk of looking stupid or inexperienced. 

To a prospective suitor who wants something serious, I must look like a walking red flag. Why hasn’t anyone chosen her? What’s really wrong with her?

Despite my best efforts at sharing bits of myself and answering questions like What’s your worst injury? (falling off a bike in Germany hours into a hook-up vacation) and What would you change about society? (continue the trend of honoring mental health awareness), I didn’t make any connections with any of the men. 

To be fair, no one was my type, so I didn’t engage with as much enthusiasm as I should have. In general, the crowd was attractive and well-adjusted, with interesting careers, insights, and the ability to crack jokes. This is not always the case with these types of mixers, so it was a nice surprise. By the end of the evening, some couples were even pairing off for deeper chats.

Before we parted ways, all participants received an envelope with notes from members of the group—anyone of the same sex interested in fostering a friendship or from the opposite sex looking for your digits. I got one. From the host of the event. I couldn’t help but feel like the chaperone was taking pity on the girl who didn’t get asked to dance. It’s uncomfortable enough trying to put yourself outside of a very cozy comfort zone only to be mocked by a lack of interest literally on paper. To be fair, other women and men got notes. Just not me. Perhaps the note passing is a humble lesson in, “You get what you put into it.”

But I forged on with my night and met up with some friends at a local karaoke bar. I approached a woman who sang Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay.” She was petite and friendly. She mentioned going somewhere else.

“Do you want to come?” she asked.

“Sure!” I replied, fortified by male rejection and a very strong Jell-O shot.

My friends tapered off. She and I walked alone to the next bar. We chatted about her tattoos and who we knew in the neighborhood. She drank a Dirty Shirley with two cherries. 

We swayed on the dance floor to late-’70s no-wave bands. She inched closer, our hips attached, and she made her move. She kissed me, and I kissed her back. I knew people at the bar but couldn’t be bothered to care about them seeing. Kissing her felt nice and consequence-free—a low-stakes way to satisfy a long-standing curiosity. After the music died down and the lights came up, we moved it to my car for another make-out session, but that’s as far as it went. We exchanged Instagrams and I let her know that I got home safe. We haven’t talked to each other since. 

I don’t take that as rejection. We had what we had. 

What that night taught me is that maybe I’m not ready for something serious. And, quite frankly, that scares me. I denied a group of 10 eligible men who want a relationship for a random, cute woman with whom I know I have no future. Have I been unwittingly indoctrinated by my situationships to only be comfortable with a casual, surface-level hang? I know that, deep down, I want a serious relationship with a male partner. 

Ultimately, though, I’m scared of being singular—not single. I’m scared that I don’t have enough to offer another person, that I’m vapid and uninteresting and the one person who is undateable and unloveable. 

I’m afraid of being judged for who I am. Despite the many charming details of my personality, I’m afraid that no one will love my shadow qualities, from mental health issues to sloppiness and fiscal irresponsibility. I’m a 42-year-old relationship virgin without an Amex, who, more often than not, buys new underwear instead of doing laundry and still fantasizes about starting a band. 

Maybe I’ve been single for so long that the idea of committing to another person is what scares me even more. What really frightens me is that maybe I’ll lose my independence and the identity I’ve cultivated while learning about myself as a single person. I don’t want to have to calm my quirks for someone else, because I fiercely love those parts of myself. 

For anyone else in this position, maybe acknowledging that is the first step to understanding where to go from here. After all, calling out those fears may mean we’re finally ready to address them. As for today, do I see myself dating women in the future? No, I don’t. Did I have fun? Why, yes, I did. 

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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Over the course of the first two seasons, viewers watched as cast members Stassi Schroeder and Jax Taylor’s toxic relationship went through its ups and downs. Cheating. Screaming matches. Anxiety. It was hard to watch, but at the same time, it felt very familiar to me.

By season seven, Stassi had met her now-husband Beau Clark. While the two were still in the dating phase, Stassi confronted her friend and fellow castmate Kristen Doute, who was embroiled in a toxic partnership of her own. 

“I learned now that you don’t have to be screamed at ever. Like, you don’t,” Stassi told Kristen. “You can be in a relationship where somebody loves you and wants to be around you and is happy all the time to be around you and lifts you up and supports you and doesn’t demand that you pay for everything and doesn’t demand that you take care of everything. There is a relationship out there for you that you deserve.”

If you’ve never been in an incredibly unhealthy situation, this may seem so obvious to you. But for those of us who have loved someone so much that we’ve overlooked the glaring red flags, those of us who’ve struggled with self-worth, her words were a gut punch. 

Even at the time, I knew that what was happening in one of my past relationships was not okay. I knew that being called a c*nt when he was upset was wrong. That I should’ve walked out the door when he threw a beer can in my direction during a heated argument. Instead, I stayed and told myself that we had our problems, just like any other couple.

Stassi could have been talking to me, but back then, I wouldn’t have listened. 

I consider myself a pretty strong person. As an only child with immigrant parents, I had to navigate a lot of the intricacies of life in the US on my own—homework, financial aid, college applications. The experience made me more independent than many of my friends whose parents and siblings had figured all this out before. 

My parents have always been a huge support in my life, but there are things that only first-gen children will understand about learning to stick up for yourself and fighting for what you want. 

Love is a powerful thing, though. It can make us strangers to ourselves. I never thought I could fall into the type of relationship that would leave me broken and ashamed, making excuses for a man who treated me cruelly. 

“Why did you stay with him?” I often get asked. “Didn’t your friends tell you he wasn’t good for you?” 

How long do you have? I want to reply.

The answer isn’t simple. An uncountable number of psychologists, writers, and experts have attempted to explain why these unhealthy dynamics are so hard to escape. For some, it comes down to the fact that the unknown is scarier than the known.

“When given the option, most people will opt for the option that is most familiar, even if it is uncomfortable,” Sarah Epstein, LMFT explains in Psychology Today. “In relationships, familiar discomfort may be preferable to the unknown of being alone or in a different relationship. Some have a pattern of entering unhealthy relationships repeatedly, finding the familiar pain of similar dynamics comfortable and predictable, if not happy.”

What this all proves is that finding yourself stuck in a toxic relationship isn’t just relegated to the weak. You’re not alone if your love for someone makes it seem impossible to leave them. It’s not as black and white as those around you will make you feel. I also know that until you’re ready, you’re not going to say goodbye. After all, I’ve been in your shoes.

After my ex and I finally called it quits for good, I spent a lot of time single, working on healing and coming back to myself. Still, when I started dating Caleb (not his real name), I spent the first few months of our relationship fighting the internal dialogue telling me that if he wasn’t making me work for his affection, then it wasn’t real. Honestly, I still have to battle the subconscious urge to pick a fight just to feel those familiar highs and lows.

I’m sure I’ve been tough to date. I’ve mentioned breaking up twice, a knee-jerk reaction intended to protect myself from the heartache that I’m certain will come, since it always has in the past. Caleb was hurt and confused. 

Good, healthy relationships don’t work that way. I’m learning. 

What’s been a constant in our relationship, however, is a feeling of safety. He’s patient, kind, and affectionate. “I will wait for you to grow out of the circumstances you were in before me, because I see who you really are,” he once said. “It’s coming through in patches, and I can’t wait to get the full thing.” 

I share all this not to say, “I did it; I found someone—you can too!” but because I sincerely didn’t believe Stassi’s words until now. But if this is resonating with you, I want you to know: She’s right. 

Over the years, plenty of people became exhausted with my ex and me. I understood their frustrations. But if a person hasn’t gone through something like this before, they may not understand why their well-meaning advice doesn’t lead to a breakthrough. They haven’t experienced the intensity of a toxic dynamic, the way its rollercoaster emotions keep you frozen in place. They don’t really get it.

I do, though. I get it. It’s f*cking hard to choose being single again above being with someone who kind of, maybe, sorta is sometimes nice to you. It took me years to fully accept that there is a world in which you can date someone who behaves as though they’re the luckiest person to be with you. They won’t need to yell at you to resolve arguments. Won’t call you names while you cry in their car.

I don’t think one article from a stranger is going to convince you that there is something better out there for you, but maybe it’ll add to a list of reasons you’re mentally collecting to someday walk away. Even once you do, it’s going to be a tough road to healing, but take it from someone who sincerely didn’t think this kind of relationship was even possible: It is.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can finally exhale. That’s a good feeling.

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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My girlfriend was tired and I was tipsy, so I danced alone at the gay bar. A woman—curly hair, Doc Martens, shirt with the sleeves cut off—shimmied over and leaned in close, shouting over the music.

“Are you a dyke?” she hollered.

I glanced at my very butch girlfriend, perched on a barstool nearby. I’d been darting over to smooch her at regular intervals. Duh, I thought, but settled for, “Yep!”

The woman gave me a once-over. “Dykes don’t wear shoes like that,” she declared. The footwear in question was a pair of black, sling-back kitten heels. 

It wasn’t the first time I’d been accused of heterosexuality based solely on my affinity for uncomfortable shoes and lipstick (despite the latter being its own category of lesbianism). And most other femmes I know have faced the same scrutiny.

Being dismissed as the straight friend at the lesbian bar or having dating app matches assume you’re simply experimenting sucks—not only because it’s invalidating, but also because it makes it really hard to get dates.

While freshly out and hungry for community (and, frankly, a girlfriend), I used to go out of my way to look stereotypically “queer,” donning button-downs and chopping my hair short. As I settled into my identity, though, I found my way back to the super feminine style that felt most natural for me. I figured that any girl worth dating would find it sexy, not suspect—and while I was right, I do get approached by men far more than by women these days. 

It’s a gay dating struggle that came to mind right away when Nicolle asked if I was interested in guest writing for Unhinged, especially because newly out friends of mine have commented that—regardless of their presentation—just meeting women they like is one of the hardest aspects of entering the sapphic dating world. (We have dating apps, of course, but they’re afflicted by the same issues singles face when looking for heterosexual matches, with the added bonus of encountering tons of couples “looking for a third.”)

Being regularly read as straight on top of it all has meant that I’ve had to hone my flagging and flirting skills, often taking a more active role when it comes to meeting potential partners—a great confidence-builder. If you’re single and have been in my shoes (literally), here are my tips—ranked from least to most bold—for going forth and scoring dates. Happy gay dating!

Subtle Flagging

While technically the most passive move on this list, flagging can make all the following suggestions easier, as anyone who looks will get a pretty big hint right away that you’re into women. LGBTQ t-shirts and other goodies are easy alternatives to the shag haircuts and eyebrow piercings that ping gaydars (also, femmes can have those things; I just don’t). But I will be the first to admit that a lot of Pride apparel is not that cute. (Legions of gays make TikToks dunking on Target’s Pride collection every year for a reason.) 

I have found solace in cheeky baby tees like this one and this one. Though merch from lesbian-beloved artists holds less telling power as gay musicians crack mainstream charts, the classics—k.d. lang, Indigo Girls, Brandi Carlile—remain pretty firmly in the sapphic camp. Even more low-key is a rainbow pin on your tote bag or sticker on your water bottle.  

Join Gay Spaces

Whether you have one gay friend or 100, it never hurts to expand your network—the more queer women you know, the more likely you are to catch feelings for a new pal or get set up with cute singles. Plus, meeting someone in an LGBTQ space saves you both the Is she gay or just nice? panic that often plagues sapphic interactions.

Various local organizations offer beer league sports for LGBTQ folks. Some—including kickball, roller derby, cheerleading, flag football, and dragon boat racing—are dominated by shes and theys, either by happenstance or by design. Lesbian Run Club and its affiliated Lesbian Yoga Club are lower-comittment ways to get moving with fellow gays.

And you don’t have to sweat if you don’t want to. The Sapphic Book Club holds monthly events where dozens of LGBTQ folks meet to discuss a preselected gay novel or just hang out, and the queer-run Not Your Grandma’s Camera Club hosts photo walks for women and nonbinary photographers. Friends of mine have met partners while volunteering for Pride and other LGBTQ causes. 

Come Out—Strategically

We all want to fall in love at first sight after locking eyes with a woman over a pile of organic tomatoes at the farmers market. But IRL, epic romances often begin with “weak ties,” the sociological term for casual acquaintances and near-strangers in your network: the cute barista who always knows you want oat milk, the friendly girl with great arms who takes the same 7 a.m. pilates class as you, the neighbor you run into while you’re each taking your rescue dog for a walk.

I believe the potential for romantic connection with a casual acquaintance goes way up when you make a point to let them know you’re attracted to women. It doesn’t have to be awkward or forced—I once thought my hairstylist was pretty, so I joked in the chair that Harry Styles was the only man I was into. We ended up hanging out a few days after, and she brought flowers, signaling to me that it was definitely a date. 

Mentioning a Pride event when your elevator crush asks about your weekend plans, citing But I’m a Cheerleader in small talk about movies, or briefly referencing an ex with she/her pronouns (without bad-mouthing her, obviously) can all help turning chatting into flirting. 

Make the First Move

I know, I know—it’s scary! I’m not suggesting you walk up to the next girl you see with a mullet and ask her out (though if you are the kind of self-actualized legend who would do this, I salute you). But making meaningful eye contact with a woman at Gossip Grill—or, better yet, offering to buy her a drink—is far more effective than averting your gaze and hoping a handsome masc sends a G&T down the bar.

I’ve met women in the wild—that is, not-explicitly-gay spaces—simply by introducing myself and hoping for the best. Once, while alone at a crowded brewery, I asked a cute girl if I could join her group of friends at their table. After a couple hours, I had her number and, eventually, a date. Local events that bring a lot of people together informally, like Balboa Park’s Winyl Club or concerts and festivals, offer opportunities to compliment someone on her shirt or ask to pet her dog, kicking off a convo. 

As with the casual coming-out, you don’t need to be overly ceremonious about it. After all, there is a little truth to the “useless lesbian” stereotype—most of us, whether we’re rocking a carabiner full of keys on our belt or not, are just waiting for someone to make a move.

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: Dating Women When You Don’t “Look Gay” appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Today, she’s in her 30s and, though she has had sexual experiences, she has never had a boyfriend, a fact that she’s shy about sharing. Her lack of chances to experiment with dating as a teen isn’t the only reason for her single status, she tells me, but she can’t help but think it’s continued to play a role.

Felicity wants to be in a relationship and, eventually, get married and start a family. It weighs heavily on her mind that, each year, she’s drawing closer to an age when conceiving children is more difficult. She’s not alone, either. 

Last year, data from the US Census Bureau showed that nearly 47 percent of the US population (or just over 117 million people) is currently single. And, according to a 2020 study by the Pew Research Center, 35 percent of the country’s unmarried adults have never been in a committed romantic relationship. 

On TikTok, women come together under the hashtag #neverhadaboyfriend, sharing their stories of single life in their late 20s, 30s, and 40s.

“There is this feeling of being undesirable and unworthy for a relationship, especially if you don’t have a relationship in your formative years like high school and even college,” says 26-year-old creator @nicole.farina. “It is this feeling that you can’t really shake.”

She goes on to say that she has trouble being vulnerable with men because, in the past, when she’s opened up about her feelings, they haven’t been reciprocated—making her feel like something is wrong with her. At time of publication, her video has garnered nearly 4,000 comments and more than 415,000 likes and has been shared 73,000 times.

It hit a nerve, and Felicity can relate. 

“There was a guy who was interested in my [college] roommate and I was interested in him, and I knew my roommate was not interested in him. We developed a friendship and I wished it could be something more,” Felicity says. “I got drunk one night and told him.” He let her know he didn’t feel the same.

For anyone who has ever dated, rejection is a normal part of the game. It’s never easy, but hearing “You’re a great person, but I think we’re better as friends” or “You’ll find someone amazing; it’s just not me” time and time again can do a real number on you mentally. 

“The one thing that comes up across the board is the insecurity around it. They’re uncomfortable sharing it. The underlying thing that comes through is shame around that,” says San Diego matchmaker Sophy Singer of Sophy Love, who has worked with many clients who have never been in a committed relationship. “They feel broken, like, What’s wrong with me? Why haven’t I been able to do this?”

And society doesn’t make it any easier on them. 

Writing for Psychology Today, Bella DePaulo, PhD, explores the stigma faced by “relationship virgins,” people who have never had a romantic relationship. Her research found that people tend to view them as lonelier than others, less happy, and less well-adjusted.

Admittedly, when I’ve gone out with people in the past, hearing that I’d be a guy’s first-ever girlfriend has made me question whether he was ready to date or not. Without realizing it, I’ve probably fed into the lie that more experience equals a better partner. 

But when I stop to think about Felicity, I’m immediately aware of my error. She’s quick-witted, attractive, smart, and fun to be around. I get the sense that, while inexperienced, she’d make for a pretty great partner. She just hasn’t had a chance to showcase those qualities—and maybe that’s okay.

“The positive [of being a ‘relationship virgin’] is that you probably haven’t been wounded over [past relationships],” Singer says. “I think when people get to this point, they have generally kept themselves social and happy and fulfilled in other ways. What’s so cool is that now this is their next chapter of growth. It’s almost like coming to a blank canvas.”

“Baggage” is a term that’s come up a lot in my chats with San Diego singles over the last six months. It’s no secret that the older we are, the more likely we are to have learned bad dating habits or gone through traumatic experiences with ex-partners. And our past affects how we date. 

In that sense, coming into a relationship without experience can be a boon. Moreover, people who have remained single into adulthood have had ample time to figure out who they are without the influence of a partner. 

“I could make decisions for my future—like going across the country for grad school [and] traveling—without feeling held back,” Felicity says of being single throughout her 20s. “Relationship virgins” often have rich social lives, fun hobbies, a healthy sense of independence—all qualities many of us look for in a partner.

And as Dr. DePaulo points out in her article, the word “[relationship] encompasses friendships, family ties, bonds with neighbors and mentors, camaraderie with teammates, and more, in addition to romantic links. If you have had any of those kinds of relationships, you are not a ‘relationship virgin.’”

Whether a person has had multiple serious partnerships or zero, observing their connections with their friends, family, even coworkers will typically teach you more about how they interact with other humans than stories about their exes ever will.

For her part, Felicity remains hopeful. As we wrap up our chat, she shares the qualities she’s looking for in a man. 

“Someone that I can laugh with, someone who is a little bit more extroverted. Someone who is educated, and cultured” she says. “I like sports, too. So someone who is going to just watch football on Sundays with me.” 

Men, if you’re not reading “catch” from that last line, we need to talk. 

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: I’ve Never Been in a Relationship appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Something doesn’t add up. And I’d like answers.

Recently, I chatted with 39-year-old local Alex Sabbag about dating in San Diego. She hit on something that has come up in a few conversations I’ve had lately: Being an accomplished woman who also makes good money sometimes seems to make dating more difficult.

Early in her career, Sabbag established herself as a hard-working employee, which helped her quickly climb the ladder as a young professional. She went on to become an entrepreneur at 25 and moved to San Diego in 2020 at the age of 35.

“I was working as the chief marketing officer for an insurance technology company at the time and was the first hire,” Sabbag says. “I helped build the brand, built the story, built the team, and then a month after, I bought [my home] in Solana Beach.”

Today, she splits her time between Solana Beach and Palm Springs, where she runs her own yoga practice on the weekends. She also recently added “author” to her accolades and is touring the country with her new book. 

Sabbag is ambitious, intelligent, and confident—it’s immediately clear in how she speaks and how she has moved through her career. But she feels that it may be these same qualities that have kept her from finding a long-term partner.

“Women with drive and independence and big careers have no problem dropping right into their masculine energy, but it can kill a relationship so fast,” Sabbag says. “I’m [also] 5-foot-10 and taller than most [men]. I have owned beautiful homes. I don’t need [men]—I just want them.”

It’s the latter point that I find the most compelling. Men are an added bonus to the life she created for herself, not a necessity for a fulfilling future. Are men turned off by this energy because they want to feel needed?

Sabbag sees men’s disinterest in powerful women as a reflection of their own self-confidence and self-worth. It’d be easy to blame men here, though, and say that they are intimidated by strong, financially independent women—but that explanation seems too simple. 

Single parent and 39-year-old local Leigh Ann Wilson separated from her husband in August of 2022 and jumped back into the dating pool last year. “I’m in a whole different ball game,” she says. “I don’t think I was prepared mentally for these new worlds. I find it fascinating and hysterical and exhausting.”

Recently, she matched with a man on an app and began dating him. Two months in, she was beginning to picture their next chapter—when he suddenly cut all communication. No text, no call… nothing. 

Wilson was more confused than sad. “I’m in a place where I have my children, I’ve been married, I own my home, I have a good career,” Wilson says. “I’ll meet someone and it’s like, Do I intimidate you? Am I bringing out an insecurity in you that now you can’t handle?”

Psychology Today author Diana Kirschner Ph.D. points to studies that suggest men’s preference for marrying “down” is made up—though the rule of homogamy applies. The rule states that people marry partners who share similar values, religious views, attitudes, and yes, educational achievements.

This would stand to reason that more educated men prefer women who have the same level of schooling. So… men aren’t intimidated by high-achieving women? 

Torn between the anecdotal evidence and the science, I queried my male friends to hear their thoughts. All of them thought that it was a myth that men shy away from dating successful women. All said they have dated partners with titles above their own.

None of them, however, have ever actually been in a relationship with a woman who earned a higher salary than them.

“I’ve always welcomed it, but it’s only ever been in theory, which is unfortunate,” says my friend and 43-year-old Obecian Nate Miller. “To me, it seems like it can help a relationship be more in balance. There’s no weird power dynamic if your pay is nearly equal.” 

My boyfriend Caleb* tells me that my career goals and ambition were some of the things that initially attracted him to me. He, like the other men, says that he can’t see a woman’s success being a big issue with modern-day couples—though it may have been for our parent’s generation.

Millennials have slowly shifted the romantic script. According to Bureau of Labor Statistics data, there are more women in the workforce than ever before. Powerful career women are becoming the norm rather than the exception. 

Of course, Sabbag and Wilson’s experiences suggest that some men aren’t ready for the change—but all that means is that they haven’t yet found the right guy, one who will appreciate and celebrate their confidence and ambition.

What about you? As a woman, have you felt that men tend to consciously or subconsciously dismiss a future with you if you make more money or have a high-ranking title? Men, have you ever dated a woman above your financial status? Shoot me an email at [email protected] and let me know.

*The name Caleb is a pseudonym

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: Love & Ambition appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

So, when I saw that the bio on The Singles Society’s Instagram page declared, “Drop the apps, raise the bar,” I immediately clicked the link below those words. “We’ve created a vibrant community where singles can connect in real life,” reads the group’s homepage. “Our curated and themed events are designed for ambitious singles, ages 25–35, who value genuine connections and quality interactions.”

Brewery meet-ups, bowling tournaments, wine tastings, holiday parties, pickleball events—they’re all part of the formula that has attracted more than 28,000 followers on Instagram. Though the group is not located in San Diego (it’s based in Charlotte, NC), it seems to have latched onto a new trend in the dating scene: in-person group events. 

Yes, I know speed dating and singles mixers aren’t a new concept, but anyone who has ever tried to get to know a stranger on a 30-second “date” knows how awkward and cringe-worthy those events can be. What’s going on these days feels more intentional—activity-based gatherings intended to casually bring together singles with similar interests. 

It’s a natural progression of a phenomenon that was already gathering steam. “A perfect storm of pandemic-induced loneliness coupled with serious dating-app fatigue has turned the city’s sports leagues, running clubs, and gyms into the hottest places to date in New York,” The Cut reported last week.

The publication adds that some organizations have made matchmaking part of their mission. Hinge recently granted $25,000 to the Brooklyn-based Commonwealth Running Club to help it grow its in-person events.

It seems things have come full circle—we’re ready to meet our partners in real life again. 

“I think people are craving in-person connections, and we enjoy sporting events. We know that men frequent sporting events and sports bars, so we figured, ‘Let’s go where they already are,’” says Drafted Events co-founder Jillian Pfeiffer. 

I came across Drafted Events on IG recently (and if you’re an Unhinged subscriber, you got the inside scoop a few weeks ago). Pfeiffer and Marlenn Alba co-founded the LA-based group one night after trying to decide where to go out to meet a potential match.

“We’ve both been on the dating apps, and we’re sick of what we were coming across, and of having endless conversations that don’t really lead anywhere,” Pfeiffer says. “That’s how it started.”

They decided to invite singles to sporting events around the city, helping them interact in a fun and familiar setting without the awkwardness of first-date questions or cumbersome icebreakers. For their first event in April of this year, Pfeiffer and Alba rented out a section at Dodger Stadium on their own dime. About 60 attendees showed up. 

Since then, they’ve held seven events, garnered nearly 15,000 followers between IG and Facebook, and launched their first San Diego meetup on June 22 at the Padres vs. Brewers game. The event had 95 participants at the pregame and 70 men and women continued onto Petco.

“We’re not really a Dodger’s fan base group. We are a sports-centered singles group,” Alba says. “The Padres had a lot of demand, so that’s why we thought of heading down to San Diego. And Jillian actually lived in San Diego for some time.”

Pfeiffer has already seen how successful these events can be amongst singles in their 30s and 40s. “We’ve heard through the DMs that there were definitely some connections that led to first, second, and even third dates,” she says. 

In 2017, a similar idea had begun to take shape in San Diego, but, it wasn’t until December 2023 when the YES app finally launched, with the intention of helping daters “begin with experiences, not swipes.”

Instead of presenting users with a rolodex of potential matches, the app offers singles with a selection of people on a “Discover” page. A key part of each profile is the user’s suggested date—anything from “pickleball and drinks” to “a bike ride in Coronado.” Users can also choose to go on one-on-one dates, double dates, or group dates via the app, helping reduce the anxiety that may come with meeting strangers online.

“Then, you swipe down to get to the next date or the next profile, but it’s not like a yes or no situation such as with Tinder. You can converse from there, but that date is already set,” says YES co-founder Jordan McMurtry. “So you apply to a date and you already know where it is, what it is—time, date, place, and who’s paying.”

According to McMurtry, the app has about 4,500 users and counting. “We really wanted to create an app that you could connect with like-minded individuals in person, no matter the setting,” she adds.

As part of that mission, the YES app throws singles meetups across the city every month. Earlier this week, the YES team collaborated with adult athletics league Volo Sports to host a cocktail tasting at Techo Beso. The Gaslamp Quarter hotel bar is also the setting for the app’s sold-out pool party on July 13. 

If you didn’t get tickets, don’t worry, Drafted Events will put on their second SD meetup on July 31 in partnership with San Diego FC. So check their socials for updates if sports and cute people are your thing.

Something tells me that we’re looking at a new era in dating. I think we’re hungry for connection and eager to figure out how to move past the transactional nature of dating apps. I expect we’ll see more and more social groups catering to singles in cool, unique ways. As I come across these groups and check them out, I’ll be including them in my newsletter. Happy dating!

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

Sign-up now for the Unhinged newsletter for exclusive content, Q&As with Nicolle, and subscriber-only meet-ups!

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: Singles Are Ditching Apps for In-Person Events appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

It had been the better part of a year since my bed had had another body in it. And nearly four years since it had anyone but his body in it. It’s a funny sort of feeling when you sleep with someone new after years of waking up next to someone so familiar. 

When I eventually slept with Ryan (not his real name), I texted my best friend immediately. It was a little before midnight, and everything inside of me was screaming. There was this overwhelming sense of confusion—I liked him, but I felt like I knew absolutely nothing about him. A flood of memories of my ex swept through my mind, and I found myself comparing all that was familiar about him to all the information I lacked about Ryan. 

Does Ryan sleep with a fan on or, worse, socks? Does he prefer pancakes or eggs and bacon for breakfast? I didn’t know the curves of his face. I was questioning everything about the person lying next to me. There was once love in that bed, and yet there he was, this stranger taking up space. 

When my friend texted me back, she reminded me that these types of emotions are normal the first time you step back into the dating world. The thing is, I wasn’t missing my ex, not really. The memories were just a byproduct of what I was actually experiencing: the feeling of being smacked upside the face with all the firsts of starting over that I’d need to go through.

All of the “What do you do for a living?” questions, the anxiety of waiting to see if they’ll text you back, the wondering if my messy parts will be too much, and the highs and lows of understanding how another human views the world. 

I couldn’t look at Ryan, or anyone else for that matter, and guess everything he was thinking. He didn’t know about my family dynamics or what type of pizza I liked. These things would have to be earned through hours of time together, months of phone conversations, and many nights in the same bed 

But it’s exhausting. I’m tired. 

I’ve been dating since I was 16 and have loved four men in that time. In between, there have been dates, months-long relationships, situationships, and names that exist only in my Notes app, but none of them have changed my last name.

Twenty-four years of searching had led me to this moment—a brand-new starting line. I’m guessing that, like me, many of us at this age are frustrated with dating because it feels like the finish line keeps moving further and further away. And we can’t do anything about it.

I get it. I’m with you. Like I’ve said plenty of times, I don’t have the answers. But I’m holding onto hope that there were reasons why nothing ever worked out previously. And maybe the finish line isn’t moving—instead, our distance is getting shorter.

Over the next few weeks, Ryan and I talked almost daily. He was good about texting, just not about making plans. One night, he asked if he could come by after work. It was a Friday at 8:30 p.m. Other than asking me to lunch when he was already in my neighborhood once, he hadn’t made any other attempts to hang out. 

Admittedly, I felt lukewarm about our connection, but since I’d been intimate with him, I felt like I should try and give it a fair shot. I texted him letting him know that I didn’t want to be just another hookup, and, if wanted to see me, he’d need to start being more intentional with hanging out.

He agreed and said he’d be sure to plan something for us to do. When he left my house the next morning, I didn’t hear from him again until Sunday, when he let me know he couldn’t put that much effort into dating. 

I’ve barely thought about him since that text. Part of me knew the whole time that it wasn’t going to be anything significant. Connor (not his real name) and I also had our second date. We had a nice evening getting to know each other, but we both felt there wasn’t a romantic connection.

So, here I am again, toes on the line. I don’t know if it’s going to be a sprint or a marathon—all I can do is keep running.

If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here and follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week.

Sign-up now for the Unhinged newsletter launching this month. Get exclusive content, Q&As with Nicolle, and subscriber-only meet-ups!

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The post Unhinged, A Dating Series: Contact Sports appeared first on San Diego Magazine.