Dating in the LGBTQIA community, especially among gay men, is no easy feat. Over the past decade, I’ve noticed a growing trend that makes it even more complicated: people don’t truly date anymore—not in the sense of building a connection with one person and seeing where it goes. Instead, many seem more interested in expanding their “collective.” It’s like dating has become a recruitment strategy for their ever-growing polyamorous hive. Genuine intimacy is replaced by a revolving door of connections, each person brought into the fold with the hope of somehow completing an infinite puzzle.
This shift in dating culture raises questions about what people are really looking for. Is it a reaction to societal expectations, a rebellion against traditional norms? Or is it something more complex—a desire to avoid vulnerability or the potential pain that comes with putting all your emotional eggs in one basket? For some, the collective offers a sense of community and belonging that traditional monogamy may fail to provide. But for others, it seems more like an excuse to never fully commit, to keep options open in perpetuity, avoiding the messy depths of real connection.
While some relationships attempt monogamy, it often feels more performative than genuine—designed for social media clout rather than a true commitment to each other. One person may post about their “perfect partner,” while quietly grappling with the heartbreak of discovering their so-called soulmate is entertaining someone else on Grindr. And let’s be honest: in many cases, both partners are cheating. It’s less about deception and more about a collective wink and nod at the idea that monogamy is something they “aspire to” rather than actually live.
It’s hard not to wonder how much social media has warped our understanding of relationships. The constant pressure to appear happy, stable, and desirable to others creates a performative layer to modern romance. Instead of addressing real problems or navigating the natural ups and downs of a partnership, people curate an online persona that says, “Look at us, we’re thriving!” even when they’re anything but. This dissonance between online appearances and offline realities only seems to deepen the loneliness and dissatisfaction many people feel.
Even for those few couples who manage to stay strictly monogamous, happiness doesn’t always follow. These relationships often seem plagued by constant bickering and unspoken resentment, as though the effort to maintain exclusivity becomes a source of friction rather than connection. Yet, despite the behind-the-scenes strife, you’ll still see the Instagram posts about how “love wins” and couples’ TikToks declaring their unwavering devotion. The pressure to appear perfect online overrides the reality of their struggles.
Ironically, the happiest relationships I’ve seen are those that embrace openness—not just in the bedroom, but in communication and emotional vulnerability. Unlike the “collectives,” where the focus is on accumulating partners like infinity stones, or the strained dynamics of rigid monogamy, open relationships often exude a sense of balance. These couples aren’t trying to recruit others or chase variety; they’re simply existing in a space where they can explore desires and boundaries without pretense. There’s a level of authenticity that’s refreshing and, frankly, enviable.
What makes these open relationships stand out isn’t just the freedom they allow, but the level of trust they require. It’s counterintuitive, but the very structure that might seem threatening to some actually fosters deeper communication. Partners are forced to confront their insecurities, articulate their needs, and establish clear boundaries. It’s not that they don’t have challenges—every relationship does—but the open framework seems to encourage honesty and collaboration in a way that other models sometimes fail to achieve.
This isn’t to say open relationships are a universal solution or that polyamory is inherently flawed. The issue isn’t with the structures themselves but with how they’re approached. Are people really choosing polyamory or monogamy based on what fulfills them, or are they simply mimicking what looks trendy or socially acceptable? Are they drawn to the idea of freedom and love in abundance, or are they hiding from the hard work of cultivating a truly meaningful bond?
At the heart of all this is the need for honesty—about what we want, what we can give, and what kind of relationships actually make us happy. Whether you’re building your “collective,” committing to monogamy, or charting your own path somewhere in between, the real key is authenticity. In a dating landscape that feels increasingly rough, maybe that’s what we’re all really searching for.
Written by Creed Snow
Image: Bellos Rel Ex by bressor on DeviantArt
