On Unicorn Trapping
In polyamory, "unicorn hunting" is essentially one of our cardinal sins. But what happens when an unbalanced dynamic forms unintentionally?
I have a confession to make: I’ve only recently become emotionally intelligent enough to properly maintain a polycule. Though I am older and wiser now, there was a time very recently when I knew nothing of myself and the world around me. I’m certain I’ll say the same thing of my current self in another two years, but I digress.
As I mentioned in my previous article, I was once briefly in a polyamorous triad with my husband and someone to whom I’ll refer as [REDACTED]. They lived multiple hours away (we were north of Pittsburgh at the time, they were somewhere in the greater Detroit region). We saw them on occasion, and they did a lot for us to show us love and affection. They shared their favorite shows with us, went on trips and adventures with us, and generally gave us a wonderful time every time we saw them. They even played a pivotal role in helping me discover my true self; I learned that hormone therapy was an option because they mentioned it offhandedly.
Tyke and I repaid that kindness by prioritizing our marriage in almost every possible way. Our visits could only be occasional, and I realize now that [REDACTED] always got the sense that they were not a priority. Tyke and I were attached at the hip, while each of us was an arm’s length away from them. Essentially, we acted as unicorn hunters…but is that what we were?
For the grand majority of you (statistically around 80% of the population) who have little-to-no experience with non-monogamy (NM), “unicorn hunting” typically refers to a non-monogamous couple explicitly seeking out a third person to act not as an equal in the relationship, but as a toy for sexual experimentation or convenience. This often manifests as a monogamous couple looking to explore NM and thinking that inviting someone else into their bedroom (and providing little else in the way of a proper relationship) is a good idea. The polyamorous community even has a meme format for this exact behavior.
This is obviously seen as a bad thing, as someone who expects to be treated with love and compassion in a triad is instead depersonified and treated as a lesser priority than the established couple. A unicorn, in the eyes of the hunters, should be someone who adds to their existing relationship without requiring emotional labor from the hunters themselves.
What made my situation unique is that having a “subordinate” third in our relationship was never the intention. We weren’t seeking someone to spice up our sex life, we weren’t looking for someone to whom we’d promise intimacy in exchange for another roommate to pay rent. In the very beginning it was my husband, Tyke, who found [REDACTED] and dated them. I wasn’t even involved for the first couple weeks, and only became so when I learned they had developed a crush on me from our en passant interactions. We had completely expected to have a healthy and loving three-way dynamic. So…what happened?
This dynamic is one that I call unicorn trapping. Unlike unicorn hunting, which involves actively seeking out a third for the purposes stated above, “unicorn trapping” occurs when all parties walk into this toxic dynamic unwittingly (which for emotionally immature people new to non-monogamy is surprisingly easy to do).
Now obviously not all triads (or “throuples,” as the normies call them) are doomed to fail. It is more than possible for three people to have a loving and fulfilling relationship in all directions. I even believe, against the views of some, that a triad can work even if two of the three members were already in an established relationship. This does, however, require the original couple to put work into disentangling their existing dynamic, and they must also face the possibility that their new partner will be more interested in one of them than the other.
What went wrong in our case was a combination of two things that are immediately apparent to me (and presumably more, but I doubt [REDACTED] wants to dive deep into it). First is that we somehow expected to have an equal exchange of power and priority between two people who lived together, and one who lived five hours away. The second is that Tyke and I were highly codependent at the time and didn’t really realize it (like I said, young and emotionally immature).
That latter point alone is a continuing journey through which we are still working to this day, but the former isn’t exactly something we could help. Long-distance relationships are extremely difficult to maintain from a monogamous standpoint, let alone a polyamorous one. Polyam LDRs can work, but not if you’re unable to work through the inherent power imbalance of taking road trips to see one partner, and sleeping beside the other every night.
[REDACTED] had not spoken to us in a while, up until recently when I reached out to apologize and check in. I don’t blame them, of course; they weren’t treated as an equal, and they deserve to find relationships in which they are. They made the decision to distance themself from toxic people and focus on those who uplift them emotionally. Tyke and I, whether we want to admit it or not, were toxic people in that regard.
They tell me they’re doing well now, and I’m very happy to hear it. Tyke and I no longer try to date others as a couple. If in the future, there’s someone to whom we both feel attached, we’ll make sure to keep our own separate dynamics with that person. Maybe there will be an opportunity for a threesome from time to time, but I won’t push my luck. █
Writer’s Note: I had originally posted this article before reaching out to [REDACTED], and there were a couple things that I felt were in need of updating to provide the most accurate view of how things went. I have edited the article as of 2023–01–21 to more accurately reflect our current state of affairs, as well as make a few stylistic edits. The original version of this article should have been kept as a rough draft, but the work above is one I feel I can be proud of.