Category Archives: Being Human: Relationships & Reflection

Exploring the emotional, relational, and existential threads that make us human. From love and loss to connection, identity, and meaning, this category gathers essays and insights on how we live together, grow, and navigate the complex beauty of the human experience.

Polyamory: The Questions That Never Go Away

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The other day, I found myself having a familiar conversation with a friend, the kind I’ve had countless times with people curious about my relationship orientation and wondering if it might be a fit for them. It struck me that I’ve been here before, walking through the same starting points, answering the same questions. So I decided to put my thoughts into a reference piece. That way, when the topic comes up again, we can skip the “Polyamory 101” stage and dive straight into the richer, deeper conversations that matter most. With that all said, here’s how I think about the moral, ethical, and societal questions people often ask me about polyamory.

I’ve been openly polyamorous for decades now. Long enough to have seen the word move from whispered corners of niche communities into mainstream conversations, long enough to have been called both a dangerous libertine and a brave pioneer. And no matter how many workshops, blog posts, and late-night kitchen-table talks we have, the same core questions always seem to come back: Is this right? Is this fair? And what does it mean for the world we live in?

These are the moral, ethical, and societal questions about polyamory. I’ve lived with them, wrestled with them, and come to see them not as irritants, but as invitations to think more deeply about love, freedom, and responsibility.

The Moral Questions: Is It Right?
The first challenge people throw at polyamory is moral. We’ve been raised in a culture that equates “true love” with exclusive love. From fairy tales to wedding vows, monogamy is painted as the gold standard of moral romance. So when I say I love more than one person, and mean it, some people hear betrayal or moral failure.

But morality isn’t just about what’s familiar. It’s about how we treat people. I’ve always believed that love is not a finite resource; my love for one person doesn’t diminish my love for another any more than loving one child means I love the others less. In my experience, the moral litmus test for polyamory isn’t “one or many”, it’s whether everyone involved is respected, valued, and cared for.

Jealousy often gets cast as a moral signpost too. In monogamous thinking, if you’re jealous, it must mean something wrong is happening, or that love is being stolen away. In poly life, jealousy is a signal, not a verdict. It asks: What do I need? What am I afraid of? Can we talk about this? It’s uncomfortable work, but it’s moral work, the kind that builds rather than breaks trust.

The Ethical Questions: Is It Fair?
Even when people accept that polyamory can be moral, they ask about ethics, the fairness and integrity of the thing. And here, I’ll be the first to admit: it’s easy to get this wrong.

Polyamory rests on the foundation of informed consent. That’s not just a buzzword. It means that every partner knows the full truth of the relationship structure and has genuinely chosen it without manipulation or coercion. If someone’s “agreeing” because they fear losing their partner, that’s not consent, that’s survival.

It also means telling the truth even when it’s messy. Ethical polyamory is radical honesty in action: “Yes, I have feelings for someone else.” “Yes, I’m sleeping with them.” “Yes, I want to go deeper with them.” That kind of disclosure can sting, but it’s the only way this works without slipping into betrayal.

Then there’s the question of power. In polyamory, mismatched emotional maturity, financial independence, or social status can easily tilt the playing field. I’ve seen relationships where one partner held the “permission card”, and the other lived in quiet resentment. I’ve also seen polycules where new partners were treated like secondary accessories rather than full human beings. Ethical polyamory demands constant checking of those dynamics, because it’s all too easy for someone to feel trapped in what was meant to be a consensual, liberating arrangement.

The Societal Questions: What Does It Mean for the World?
Even if you sort out the personal morality and the interpersonal ethics, polyamory still sparks societal questions. Should we, as a culture, recognise polyamorous families in law? What would that mean for marriage, for inheritance, for child custody? These aren’t abstract questions when you’re raising kids with multiple committed partners, or when a hospital only recognises one “next of kin.”

There’s also the matter of public perception. Polyamory still carries stigma, enough that people can lose jobs, face custody challenges, or be ostracised from their communities if they’re open about it. That stigma bleeds into how we’re portrayed in media: either as exotic free-love rebels or as moral cautionary tales. Rarely as ordinary, loving, responsible adults living in families that just happen to be larger than average.

Public health debates make an appearance here too. Some assume that more partners mean more risk, full stop. The truth is more nuanced. In my experience, poly people, because we have to talk about sexual health with multiple partners, are often more rigorous about testing, safer sex practices, and ongoing health conversations than many monogamous folks.

And then there’s the question of the next generation. What does it mean for kids to grow up in polyamorous households? I can only speak from my own circle, but the kids I’ve seen raised in poly families tend to understand diversity in relationships from a young age. They learn that love can take many forms, that honesty matters, and that family is defined by care and commitment rather than a strict headcount.

Living the Questions
I don’t pretend polyamory is for everyone. It’s not morally superior to monogamy; it’s simply another valid form of relationship, one that requires its own skills, boundaries, and resilience. But I’ve learned that these moral, ethical, and societal questions are not hurdles to clear once and forget. They’re a constant part of the landscape.

Every time I commit to someone new, I’m asking myself: Is this right? Is this fair? What will this mean for the web of relationships I’m part of? Those questions don’t weaken my relationships, they strengthen them. They keep me honest. They keep me accountable.

Polyamory, at its best, isn’t just about loving more than one person. It’s about loving with more integrity, more awareness, and more intention. And in that sense, the questions aren’t a problem to solve. They’re the very thing that keeps the love alive.

The Paradox of Progress: Why Social Change Often Feels Like Loss To The Majority 

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In the work of a business consultant, change is a constant theme. Helping teams and organizations evolve often involves navigating the resistance that accompanies any disruption to the status quo. But this resistance isn’t unique to the corporate world, it mirrors broader societal reactions to social rebalancing efforts aimed at addressing inequality.

When societies attempt to redress systemic inequities and provide fair treatment for historically marginalized groups, resistance from the majority is a predictable, if not inevitable, response. What feels like progress to one group can feel like a loss to another. This phenomenon, rooted in psychology, social dynamics, and cultural identity, often transforms equality into a battleground.

Fear of Loss: The Power of Perception
Psychologists point to loss aversion as a key driver of resistance. People fear losing what they perceive as theirs more than they value gaining something new. In the context of social change, efforts to redistribute opportunities or resources to marginalized groups, such as workplace diversity initiatives, can feel to the majority like favoritism or unfair quotas. The reality that their rights remain intact often does little to assuage the emotional perception of loss.

Compounding this fear is a mindset known as zero-sum thinking. Many see opportunities and resources as a fixed pie: if one group gets a larger slice, another must get less. This belief frames the push for equity as a direct threat to the majority’s status, even though social equity often creates broader benefits for society as a whole.

Identity Under Siege
Resistance is not just about resources, it’s also about cultural identity. When dominant norms are challenged by changes like gender-neutral policies, anti-racist education, or expanded LGBTQ+ rights, these shifts can feel deeply personal to those who see their traditions as under attack. This fear of cultural loss often fuels narratives that frame change as an existential threat to the majority’s way of life.

Visible changes exacerbate this perception. Policies aimed at diversity, for example, are often highly noticeable: new hiring practices, updated media representation, or inclusive language reforms. These changes stand out more than the entrenched inequities they seek to address, making them seem disproportionate or unnecessary.

Status and Power: The Fight to Stay on Top
Social dominance theory offers another lens to understand the pushback. Those accustomed to holding power within a social hierarchy often resist efforts to level the playing field. For these groups, rebalancing isn’t just about perceived loss, it’s a challenge to their very status, sparking defensive claims of oppression.

The perception of threat is amplified by polarized media and political rhetoric. Leaders and platforms that oppose social progress often frame equity efforts as an attack on the majority, fueling fear and resentment. This narrative turns equality into a zero-sum game and victimizes those who already hold power.

The Role of Historical Context
Another factor driving resistance is historical amnesia. Without an understanding of the systemic barriers faced by marginalized groups, rebalancing efforts can seem unjustified. For instance, policies like affirmative action, intended to address historical inequities, are often misinterpreted as preferential treatment, rather than as remedies for long-standing disadvantages.

Bridging the Divide
Resistance to social progress isn’t rooted in actual losses of rights, but in the perception of loss. Psychological tendencies, cultural attachment, and divisive narratives all play a role in creating this resistance. Addressing it requires empathy, education, and open dialogue.

By fostering an understanding of systemic inequities and the broader benefits of equity, societies can bridge divides and navigate the inevitable pushback that accompanies change. Social progress may be disruptive, but it paves the way for a more inclusive and equitable future – one where progress is not seen as a loss, but as a shared gain.

The Billion-Dollar Bonk: A Light-Hearted Look at How Much Men Spend Chasing the Booty

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Let’s face it, men across the globe, are hopelessly, hilariously, and historically committed to spending absurd amounts of money trying to see, touch, or vaguely interact with sex. Whether it’s through in-person escapades, premium subscriptions to people named “CandyHearts69,” or an emotional relationship with a chatbot named “Mia the Naughty Elf,” men have collectively built a sexual spending empire that could probably fund world peace, colonize Mars, and still leave room for snacks.

Sex Work Is Work… and Business Is Booming
According to a 2023 report by Statista, the global commercial sex industry (we’re talking in-person, real-world sex work here) rakes in over $180 billion USD annually. That’s “billion” with a “B,” as in “Bonkers.” To put that in perspective, that’s more than the GDP of Hungary. That’s more than people spend on coffee. More than on Netflix. More than on avocado toast. Basically, if sex work were a country, it’d be hosting the Olympics by now.

Of that amount, it’s estimated that 90–95% of clients are male, making men the financial backbone of the world’s oldest profession. In other words, if the sex economy were a chair, men would be all four legs, the cushion, and probably the wobbly bit under the seat nobody can tighten.

Porn – The Only Subscription Men Never Cancel
Now, onto the virtual wonderland that is online porn. This is where the numbers get truly pants-down ridiculous.

According to a 2022 report from the University of Nevada, the online pornography industry brings in about $15 billion USD per year. That includes everything from subscriptions to OnlyFans, cam sites, custom videos, and, yes, that one guy still buying DVDs in 2025.

OnlyFans alone had 190 million users as of 2023 and paid out over $5 billion to creators in a single year. The majority of subscribers? You guessed it – men. The platform is less “OnlyFans” and more “OnlyDudes-Willing-To-Pay-$12.95-a-Month-To-Be-Called-Baby.”

Cam sites like Chaturbate and Stripchat bring in hundreds of millions annually, where men tip tokens for things like “wiggle,” “bounce,” “moan,” or the sacred “ask-me-about-my-feet” tier. For some reason, knowing it’s live makes it feel more “authentic,” like artisan cheese or handcrafted bread, but much sweatier.

Let’s Not Forget the Analog Guys
There’s a whole other demographic of men still spending money in more traditional ways: strip clubs, bachelor party dancers, and sketchy motel rooms with plastic plants and a mirror on the ceiling. While harder to quantify, strip clubs in the U.S. alone generate over $6 billion a year (IBISWorld, 2023). That’s just men throwing cash into the air to temporarily feel like a 2003 rap video.

Don’t get us started on massage parlors with “happy endings,” where the happiness is subjective and the endings are suspiciously pricey.

A Global Brotherhood of Bonkonomics
Let’s break it down globally, shall we?
• Japan: Home of the “soapland” and cosplay cafes, Japanese men drop $24 billion USD a year on the adult entertainment industry (Deloitte Japan, 2022).
• Germany: Legal sex work contributes $20 billion USD annually, making it both efficient and very, very naked.
• United States: Between porn, sex work (legal and not-so-much), and clubs, American men alone contribute $35–50 billion to the sex economy.
• United Kingdom: British men spend about £5 billion (≈$6.3 billion USD) annually, presumably while apologizing and calling everyone “love.”

Everywhere, men are paying for sex in some form like it’s a gym membership: full of guilt, poorly hidden, and rarely used to its full potential.

What Could That Money Buy?
So, what could men have done instead?
• Bought every citizen on Earth a decent sandwich.
• Rebuilt Notre Dame in solid gold.
• Cloned David Beckham 48,000 times.
• Paid off the student debt of every art history major in North America – twice.

But no. We have chosen nipples over Nobel Prizes. We live in a world where men will argue over who pays for dinner, then quietly drop $300 a month on a cam girl who once said “hi” with a winky face.

A Round of Applause (and Possibly Penicillin)
Let’s not judge too harshly. After all, sex, paid or not, is part of being human. Yet the sheer economic scale of men’s pursuit of orgasms is an impressive, bewildering testament to male dedication, desire, and sheer… enthusiasm. Whether through a screen or in person, whether it’s emotional support from an AI waifu or a dancer named Sapphire who knows how to make eye contact feel like a confessional, men will continue to spend.

Because in the end, some things are eternal: death, taxes, and a man handing over his credit card to see some booty.

Sources
• Statista, “Size of the global commercial sex industry,” 2023.
• University of Nevada, “Pornography Industry Report,” 2022.
• IBISWorld, “Strip Clubs in the US – Market Size 2023.”
• Deloitte Japan, “Adult Industry Revenue Report,” 2022.
• The Independent (UK), “Britons Spend £5 Billion a Year on Adult Services,” 2023.

On the Illusion of Self-Discovery 

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In an age where “finding yourself” has become a lifestyle brand, it’s hard not to notice, gently, how strange it all is.

You see it everywhere: bright, hopeful faces on “healing journeys,” framed against sunsets in Bali; corporate executives burning out in glass towers only to reappear months later as “authentic living” coaches after a $12,000 retreat in the Andes. Suburban families decluttering their closets in search of inner peace, as if enlightenment might be hidden somewhere between last season’s jackets and the yoga mats.

Modern self-discovery, especially among the comfortable and educated classes, has become an elaborate ritual. The tools vary: yoga teacher trainings, digital detox camps, van life road trips, artisanal workshops on gratitude, but the impulse remains deeply human: the yearning to feel whole, to understand oneself beyond the blur of obligations.

And yet, with a kind of quiet sadness, you realize that much of this restless effort misses the heart of what older wisdom traditions have long tried to say: that the self you are chasing cannot be caught like a butterfly. The ego, the needy, striving “I”, is not a puzzle to be solved or a prize to be won. It is an illusion to be gently seen through, a dream to wake up from.

In this softer light, it’s clear that modern self-discovery often becomes a new form of grasping. A gentler grasping, perhaps, dressed in mindfulness retreats and ayahuasca ceremonies, but grasping nonetheless. Transformation is packaged, marketed, and sold, with self-actualization offered for a price. It’s not that these experiences are without value; many carry glimpses of beauty and honesty, but when the pursuit becomes a new identity, a new project of consumption, it quietly reinforces the very suffering people hope to leave behind.

Meanwhile, the genuine work, the real, hard, simple work, remains overlooked. It doesn’t glitter. It looks like sweeping a floor without resentment, holding silence without needing to fill it, sitting with discomfort without demanding it change. It looks like living, fully and without drama, in the plainness of an unremarkable day.

Ancient teachings, whether whispered under the Bodhi tree, scribbled in the margins of Stoic letters, or passed hand-to-hand among Sufi poets, point always to the same difficult kindness: You do not find yourself by changing scenery. You find yourself by changing how you see.

And sometimes, by realizing, with a soft sigh, not a harsh judgment, that there was no fixed, shining “self” to find after all.

This truth is not meant to mock anyone’s search. It is not meant to diminish the sincere longing behind every yoga mat, every travel blog, every self-help journal. Longing is sacred. The path is sacred. It is only that the destination, in the end, may be smaller and quieter than expected, not a place to arrive at, but a way of being already waiting inside the life you have.

And that, perhaps, is enough.

The “True Love Will Change Him” Myth

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One of the most persistent cultural myths about relationships is the idea that “true love” can fundamentally change someone’s nature. It appears in countless stories: the roguish bachelor who becomes the devoted husband, the restless wanderer who finally settles down, the free spirit tamed by the right partner. In the context of polyamory, this myth often takes a specific form: the belief that a happily polyamorous person will eventually abandon multiple loves when they meet the “right one.”

For many polyamorous people, this is a familiar experience. We disclose our relationship orientation clearly and early, often as one of the very first things we share. And yet, it is not uncommon to encounter potential partners who hear “I am polyamorous” not as a statement of identity or practice, but as a challenge to be overcome. The assumption lingers that love, if deep enough, will lead to conversion.

This assumption reveals more about the cultural scripts we inherit than about the people involved. Generations of romantic storytelling have reinforced the notion that the highest form of intimacy is exclusive, permanent monogamy. When polyamorous individuals do not conform to this arc, partners may experience confusion, disappointment, or even a sense of betrayal, as though a promised transformation has failed to occur.

The problem runs deeper than mismatched expectations. At first glance, polyamory appears to be a liberating and beautiful idea. Who would not want more love, more intimacy, more sources of support and joy? Yet when lived in practice, polyamory frequently exposes unresolved vulnerabilities. The experience of sharing a partner can provoke profound feelings of abandonment, inadequacy, or betrayal. For many, it becomes the first time they must directly confront the reality of their attachment style and emotional insecurities.

This is one reason polyamory is often misunderstood. It is not simply “more love,” nor is it an easy alternative to monogamy. It is a demanding practice that requires rigorous self-examination, radical honesty, and a capacity for discomfort. Jealousy, fear, and insecurity do not disappear in polyamory; they are amplified. To remain in the dynamic requires bravery, and a willingness to name and work through these challenges.

It also requires discipline. Not only sexual discipline, though that is critical, given the need for careful vetting and consideration of potential partners, but emotional discipline. Communication skills become the backbone of any polyamorous structure. And here, one of the most sobering truths emerges. 

“The quality of a polycule is directly proportional to the communication skills of its least emotionally secure member; or, if you prefer something gentler, less absolute, more accepting – a polycule’s health depends less on its most skilled communicator, than on how well its least secure member feels heard.”

If even one person in the network is unable to express needs, set boundaries, or listen without defensiveness, the strain reverberates outward. This is why intentional partner choice matters. Attraction and chemistry may open the door, but sustainability depends on emotional maturity and the capacity for dialogue. Without these, polyamory can quickly collapse into chaos and harm, easily mistaken for selfishness or exploitation disguised as “freedom.”

The myth of “true love will change him” bypasses this complexity. It reassures us that we will not need to face our own insecurities, because eventually the polyamorous partner will conform to a monogamous ideal, but this reassurance is hollow. The harder truth is that no amount of affection can erase a person’s fundamental orientation toward relationships. Attempting to do so often results not in intimacy, but in resentment and disillusionment.

A more grounded vision of love recognizes people as they are, rather than as we wish them to be. True love, in this light, is not about rewriting someone’s story, but about choosing to join it. It requires clarity, communication, and the courage to engage with the difficult emotions that inevitably arise. Polyamory, when practiced with integrity, is not a rejection of love’s depth, but an expansion of its possibilities, provided those involved are willing to meet the demands it places upon them.

Ultimately, the challenge of polyamory is also its gift. It forces participants to confront their own fears, to sharpen their honesty, and to expand their capacity for empathy. It strips away the comforting illusion that love can be a simple cure-all. In doing so, it offers a different, and perhaps more radical, lesson: that love is not about changing another person, but about embracing them fully, while also accepting the work required to embrace oneself.

An idea that’s been waiting since 2019 is finally ready to come into the light. PolyConnections will be a shared space for stories and reflections from across the polyamorous community: a place to write, to connect, and to listen. It’s been a long time coming, but the conversation is about to begin.

Being an Independent Knowledge Worker has a New Trendy Name

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For over 25 years, working as a business consultant has meant managing multiple projects for different clients, each demanding unique skills and contributions. Whether leading a project, analyzing business processes, or facilitating strategic discussions, this multi-faceted approach to work offers both challenges and rewards. One of the most appealing aspects of this style is the built-in networking opportunities. Engaging with diverse clients allows for the development of meaningful professional relationships while creating dynamic ways to generate income. By choosing to work independently and focusing on outcomes-based projects from my own space, rather than embedding within a client’s office, I have embraced a flexible, autonomous way of working that aligns with modern career trends.

This approach aligns with what is now popularly referred to as “polyworking,” a concept that has gained traction in recent years. Polyworking involves taking on multiple professional roles simultaneously, often across different industries or fields, rather than adhering to the traditional single-job model. Its rise can be attributed to advancements in technology, the normalization of remote work, and shifting attitudes toward traditional career paths. It enables workers to diversify income sources, build a broad skill set, and gain greater autonomy over their work schedules.

Polyworking is not without its challenges, however. Successfully managing several roles requires careful time management, as balancing multiple commitments can be overwhelming. The risk of burnout is real, with the potential for fatigue and reduced productivity if boundaries between roles are not clearly defined. Additionally, polyworking often lacks the financial and employment stability associated with traditional full-time jobs, as benefits and protections like health insurance or retirement plans may be absent.

Despite these challenges, polyworking offers notable advantages. By maintaining diversified income streams, individuals can reduce financial vulnerability during economic downturns or unexpected job losses. Exposure to various industries not only broadens professional networks but also fosters personal and professional fulfillment by allowing individuals to pursue their passions alongside their careers. Digital tools and platforms, such as project management software and freelance marketplaces, have played a pivotal role in making polyworking feasible, enabling effective collaboration and organization.

As the gig economy and remote work continue to evolve, polyworking is increasingly seen as an alternative to traditional career paths. For some, it represents freedom and flexibility; for others, it is a necessary adaptation to modern economic realities. While it may not suit everyone, polyworking is shaping the future of work, offering opportunities for greater financial independence, professional growth, and a more tailored work-life balance. Understanding how to navigate its challenges is key to thriving in this emerging landscape.

When a Sex Worker Calls a Lawyer a Whore: Feminism, Hypocrisy, and the Weight of Words

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I recently witnessed a moment that was, in equal measure, jarring, ironic, and deeply revealing: a sex worker called a lawyer a whore. The word hit the air like a slap, not just because of who said it, but because of what it exposed. This wasn’t just a spat. It was a cultural moment that pulled back the curtain on how we still weaponize language soaked in misogyny, even among those who should, by all rights, know better.

Now, let’s pause here. The term whore has long been used to shame, control, and degrade women, especially those who dare to transgress sexual norms. Yet, in recent years, many sex workers have reclaimed it, asserting their agency and challenging the stigma. To hear someone from within that world hurl it as an insult is, on the surface, ironic. But beneath that irony lies something far more complex: a commentary on respectability, power, and the hypocrisy that still riddles both feminist and professional spaces.

When a sex worker calls a lawyer a whore, they’re not talking about sex. They’re talking about compromise, about selling out, about being willing to do anything for money or power while cloaking it in the illusion of respectability. It’s a sharp dig at the moral contradictions we tolerate in professional life. After all, lawyers and especially those in corporate or political circles, are often paid handsomely to defend the indefensible. They play the game in tailored suits and courtrooms, while sex workers do it in ways society still deems unacceptable. Yet only one of them gets a LinkedIn profile and a pension.

This, to me, is the hypocrisy at the heart of modern feminism. Too often, it uplifts professional women while distancing itself from those who work outside “respectable” labour categories. Mainstream feminism has made great strides, but it still struggles to make room for those whose empowerment doesn’t come with a university degree or a boardroom badge. Sex workers, domestic labourers, and other marginalized women are too often left out of the conversation, unless they serve as cautionary tales or symbols to be rescued.

And this is why the insult stung so sharply. The word “whore” still holds power, not because of what it means, but because of the shame we still attach to it. When used against a lawyer, it highlights the deep discomfort we have with the idea that all labour, whether it involves a courtroom or a bedroom, is transactional. That both women may be “selling themselves” in some fashion, but only one gets to pretend it’s noble.

Feminism, if it means anything today, must confront this hypocrisy head-on. It must stop drawing lines between the respectable and the reviled, the educated and the erotic. It must challenge the systems that make one woman a whore and another a hero, when both may be navigating the same capitalist dance – just with different music.

In that sense, maybe the insult wasn’t ironic at all. Maybe it was deadly accurate.

Great Textpectations: And Other Hauntings From Ghosters Anonymous

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Ah yes, ghosting, the ultimate disappearing act of the digital age. It’s like ditching a party through the bathroom window without so much as a “thanks for the snacks.” Passive-aggressive? Check. Lazy? Double check. But effective? Sure, if you count avoiding awkward conversations as an accomplishment. Spoiler alert – it’s not.

Let’s be real. Ghosting is less about sparing someone’s feelings and more about dodging accountability. It’s like saying, “I’m too emotionally constipated to have an adult conversation, so here’s eternal silence instead.” Bravo, ghoster. You’ve unlocked the relationship equivalent of turning off your phone and calling it self-care.

Now, here’s the plot twist: some people ghost people they actually like. Why, you ask? Oh, just a cocktail of commitment issues, fear of vulnerability, and the maturity of a houseplant. Think of it as emotional dodgeball, except they threw the ball, ran home, and never came back.

Research (and common sense) shows that people with attachment avoidance are the reigning champions of ghosting. These are the folks who would rather fake their own death than text, “This isn’t working out.” Instead, they fade away like a bad Wi-Fi signal, leaving you wondering if it was something you said, did, or wore (it wasn’t).

Here’s the kicker, ghosting isn’t about you. It’s about them. Their fears. Their insecurities. Their inability to handle adult-level emotions. So, when someone ghosts you, consider it a blessing. You just dodged a lifetime of, “Why won’t they talk about their feelings?” Pop the champagne and move on.

That said, let’s not sugarcoat it, ghosting hurts. It’s the emotional equivalent of yelling into an empty canyon and waiting for an echo that never comes. One minute you’re texting about your favorite pizza toppings, the next you’re refreshing your messages like a stock ticker in free fall. And just when you’ve pieced yourself back together, in shuffles the ghost turned zombie.

Ah yes, the zombie; a ghoster who rises from the dead with a “Hey stranger!” text at 2 a.m., as if they didn’t vanish like a magician’s rabbit. It’s the ultimate insult: “I didn’t care enough to stay, but I’m bored enough to come back.” Block them, delete the thread, and light a sage stick for good measure.

So, what’s the moral of the story? Ghosting is the coward’s way out. It’s a neon sign flashing, “I can’t handle hard conversations!” If you’re ghosted, clap for yourself because you dodged an emotional grenade. And if the zombie reappears? Ghost them right back. Poetic justice tastes even better than that pizza you never got to share.

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ

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If only this were real!

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ is a spiritual movement that reimagines Christian teachings to fully embrace and affirm polyamorous relationships. At the heart of its manifesto is a simple, profound belief: that the love exemplified by Christ is limitless, far too vast to be contained by monogamy alone. This theology holds that Christ’s message of compassion, acceptance, and radical love applies to all forms of consensual, ethical relationships, including those that involve multiple partners and the full spectrum of LGBTQIA2S+ identities.

A central tenet of the church is the idea that traditional Christian doctrines around marriage and sexuality often fall short of expressing the depth and breadth of Christ’s love. Instead, the church calls for a faith rooted in mutual respect, honesty, and open-hearted communication. It also seeks to dismantle the social and religious stigmas that continue to weigh down non-monogamous relationships, seeing those barriers as obstacles to living out a more inclusive and authentic Christian love.

The Church of the Polyamorous Christ invites its followers to grow spiritually by embracing the beauty and diversity of human connection. It challenges the notion that monogamy is the only valid or moral path, and instead celebrates a theology where diverse expressions of love are understood as sacred reflections of the divine.

And to be clear, this isn’t polygamy in terms of one man with many wives. This is polyamory: a celebration of all genders, all sexualities, and all loving combinations built on trust and consent.

Sounds kind of incredible, doesn’t it?

Now, if only I weren’t a Secular Spiritualist…

Roll Britannia: The Greggs Chronicles

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Once upon a time, in the wilds of Tyneside, there emerged a force so powerful, so delicious, that it would one day rival the might of empires. No, not the Romans. We’re talking about Greggs, the humble bakery, turned national obsession that has swept across the UK like gravy on a sausage roll.

It all began in 1939 when a man named John Gregg decided that Newcastle needed something more than coal, fog, and football. So, he did what any visionary would do: he got on a bike and started delivering fresh eggs and yeast to the good people of the North East. Little did he know that his humble yeast rounds would eventually help leaven the British soul.

Fast forward to the 1950s, and the first Greggs shop opened. It sold bread, cakes, and dreams. And by dreams, we mean hot pastries that could scald your mouth, but warm your heart. Greggs soon became a staple of the British high street, which is no small feat considering the fierce competition from fish & chips, kebabs, and aggressive seagulls.

Now, Greggs isn’t just a bakery. It’s a lifestyle. A philosophy. A national institution. While France has the baguette, and Italy has pizza, the UK has the Greggs sausage roll, a flaky, meaty miracle that unites builders, bankers, and students alike. It’s one of the few things in Britain that still works reliably and costs less than a cup of designer coffee.

But let’s not forget innovation. In 2019, Greggs stunned the nation with the Vegan Sausage Roll. Critics laughed. Piers Morgan nearly exploded. But the people? The people lined up. The plant-based pastry launched Greggs into a new orbit, attracting vegans, vegetarians, and confused carnivores who just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

From there, things escalated. Greggs went viral, won awards, and, brace yourself, teamed up with Primark to launch a fashion line. That’s right: you can now wear your steak bake with pride, even if it’s printed on a hoodie. The combo meal of clothing and carbs is the 21st century’s answer to haute couture.

Let’s be honest: Greggs is taking over the UK one pasty at a time. No town is too small, no train station too remote. There’s probably a Greggs opening inside your kitchen cupboard as we speak. Resistance is futile. You will be fed.

Plans for world domination remain hush-hush, but we all know it’s coming. First, it’ll be Europe, somewhere easy, like Belgium. Then maybe America, where Greggs will stun Starbucks with sausage roll-based frappuccinos. By 2040, the UN will convene in the Greggs Lounge, sipping on baked bean lattes and resolving conflicts over custard slices.

So next time you bite into a cheese & onion bake, know this: you’re not just enjoying a snack. You’re part of a movement. A flaky, buttery, gloriously British movement.

Long live Greggs.