I had managed to get through 43 years of life with pretty clear sexual labels.

Then middle age had to go and fuck it all up.

Mind you, I’m not complaining, really. Middle age for my wife and me has brought a sexual reawakening the likes of which I never would have imagined, with us reaching a common ground that has allowed her to truly blossom and embrace her kinks (and discover many new ones), and for me to finally express my kinks openly and comfortably (and also discover new ones). By simply putting the missing pieces of the puzzle into place with our sexual lifestyles, we’ve gone from recently wondering if we need to part ways to suddenly not being able to get enough of each other and having a stronger relationship than ever.

But again, the labels. Dear God, I never knew there were so many labels for sexual identities, and I’ve been a kink-meister for a long, long time. Even if I couldn’t explore most of them personally, I’ve known more about most of them than I probably should.

I guess where I’m feeling adrift lately is in the explosion of some relatively new terms on the scene like polyamory, heteroflexible and homoflexible. And those would stick in my mind because the first two impact directly on my life but also confuse it greatly—and the third is a kissing cousin (so to speak) to number two in the list.

You see, my big sexual thing through most of my life has been the smoking fetish. That’s pretty simple and basic. There are many subsets of the fetish, and very niche areas that various people enjoy, but the basic gist is that if you have the fetish, you find smoking sexy. Simple. So too with my WAM (wet and messy) fetish, which ranks number two. There are many subsets, from wet jeans to mudplay to foodplay and more, but the overall theme is that you like things wet and/or messy. My liking of latex and leather, too, is easily and simply defined, and exists as a subset of both the clothing fetish arena and the dominance/submission arena.

Most fetishes and kinks I’ve known about in life follow a similar rule. Many variations, but the basic definition is clear. In terms of sexual lifestyles, too, I thought things were pretty cut-and-dried. For example, you were either straight, gay/lesbian, or bisexual. You either liked the other gender, you liked your own, or you liked both.

Then came heteroflexible and homoflexible, which I thought might add clarity, but only added more confusion, it seems. I hadn’t encountered these terms until my wife and I started getting on alternative dating sites and such, thanks to our pursuit of polyamory or something like it (more on that in a moment, because that’s messing with my damn mind, too). I have to assume the terms are fairly recently minted, because I’m pretty up-to-date with most sexual terms and hadn’t run across them.

Once I sorted out that homoflexible meant you generally like your own gender but sometimes go for the opposite one, and heteroflexible was the opposite (you have to admit, it could go either way etymologically speaking, so I don’t think I was wrong to be confused), I thought the labels would be a godsend for me. How wrong I was. Thing is, my wife would like to see me with another man. I’m not into guys, but I’m willing to do this for her, and am not freaked out by the possibility, nor do I resent the idea of doing it to make her aroused.

So, while I may not sexually desire other guys, I could see playing with one lightly or heavily if it made my wife hot (and/or the other guy). I figured, “Hey, perfect! I can identify as heteroflexible instead of bisexual, since I’m not technically bi.”

Oh how frickin’ wrong I was. I’ve ended up just labeling myself in profiles as hetero or straight ultimately, and explaining my potential for playing with guys if my wife was involved, because I quickly realized that there are several interpretations of what heteroflexible means, and I felt like I’d be a fraud…or just be unclear to some folks…if I called myself that.

I mean, to some it means essentially the same thing as bisexual, except that you trend much more strongly toward the opposite gender. To others, it means you’re situationally bisexual (that would be me), where certain circumstances must apply to bring out your bisexuality. Still others say it just means that if you bump up against a guy in a threesome, foursome or moresome, you don’t freak out and you go with the flow, and if something happens, like you “accidentally” suck his cock, that’s OK (but you won’t talk about it afterward and it will never happen again).

I’m sure there are other definitions, too, but in those three, I’m already confused enough and convinced that someone should have copyrighted the damn term and enforced their own definition for clarity’s sake.

And in the end, the only reason I felt a need to consider the use of heteroflexible was because my wife proposed we explore polyamory (my agreement to which is the genesis of all the great sex she and I are having recently, which ironically leaves us no time for extra partners right now). And so the added irony is that polyamory itself is a loaded term that invites plenty of debate, and sometimes bitter argument, over what it means and whether it has any relation to swinging. Which is probably why someone had to come up with the super long and awkward term “consensual non-monogamy” to serve as an umbrella for polyamory, polyfidelity, polygamy, polygyny, polyandry, open relationships, swinging, cuckolding and any other close relations.

I have to admit I’m not sure why there is such a territorial feeling around the term “polyamory” needing to literally mean (as some insist) “many loves.” I mean, I get it intellectually. I’m a writer; I comprehend the Latin roots. But when someone is “amorous” that doesn’t literally mean they’re in love with the other person in most cases. Latin roots certainly don’t get taken literally in all sexual contexts—for example, “pedophile” is a little misleading since it should probably just be “liking” kids, much like Francophiles simply like all things French. No one’s pushing for “pedoamory” as far as I know (not that I care to follow the exploits of NAMBLA and their ilk), or even really giving attention to the existing term “pederasty” much.

But getting back to my orignal point: Personally, it seems to me “polyamory” should be the umbrella term, as polyfidelity or some similar term could handle the role of letting people know you are committed to multiple partners and not simply fucking around with whomever, whenever.

Then again, no one asked me.

But again, it leaves me wanting. My wife and I are not, according to the definitions of polyamory purists, polyamorous. For one thing, we aren’t, and never have been, in a poly relationship yet. More to the point, neither of us is sure we even have the time or energy to truly and fully commit to a total relationship with one or more other people besides each other, even though we see immense value in having one or two other people in our lives. Hell, we can’t even find the time to date anyone else but each other. So, from that standpoint, we aren’t “seeking” love and commitment with multiple partners. We’re open to it, but we’re not chasing after it.

At the same time, we’re not sure we’re swingers either, because we’re not just hot and heavy into the idea of spouse-swapping or jumping into the sack with random humans both together and independently. We’d like to have some connection and some sense of friendship perhaps, before we start going at it between the sheets, or atop the counter, or amid the unfolded laundry.

Yet we’ve gone to a swinger event recently and found it to be far less debauched than we thought it might be, and very friendly and without pressure, in fact. And so, given our time constraints, we’ll probably attend more such events, in the hopes of getting to know people better, and possibly sleeping with them once we have a connection to them on a friendly basis. And maybe such a relationship, or relationships, could develop into something more loving in a literal polyamorous manner.

But still, it leaves us perplexed. We’re not really into swinging, and we’re not really committed to polyamory—whatever polyamory really is, if there is indeed a consensus. So, what are we?

Again, I’m not complaining, as such. These two areas of heteroflexibility (or something like it) and polyamory (or maybe swinging) represent explorations that have led to fantastic sex with my wife and a renewed strength of commitment and purpose between us, so I guess I can live with the confusion given the payoff.

But still, I do wish I knew what the hell to call myself before I accidentally attract a homoflexible, neo-Mormon, plural marriage proponent.