If you’re like me and you love putting words to things, here’s one: MOREs, which stands for mixed orientation relationships or, in more words, a relationship in which the partners involved have different sexual orientations, including ones that don’t even match each other.
MOREs are an under-discussed topic despite how common they are, so I want to get into the weeds a little. What makes a MORE? What can they tell us about how people experience love? What makes them easier or more difficult to keep in our lives?
MOREs first slipped across my radar when I was studying the psychology of dating and personal identity. It popped up in ‘older’ research dating to the 20th Century when queerness was much, much more stigmatized in most places. Sympathetic researchers working with queer populations would inevitably run into Mixed Orientation Marriages, or MOMs, often in the form of a heterosexual partner married to someone who was gay (closeted or not).
These stories usually included the conflict you’d expect about a queer person spending their life with someone with whom they were sexually and romantically incompatible. The difficulty was often compounded by marriage inequality and increased social stigma. Children or linked finances often tied the MOM together for life, even if they wanted to be apart. These relationships get stickier the further back you go. Access to no-fault divorce didn’t just reduce women’s suicide rates by up to 20% over time. It also gave people in unhappy mixed orientation marriages an escape route.
Despite claims by the Perpetual Bad News Machine (social media) and our 24-hour news cycle, social conditions for queer Americans are much better now. Yes, there are stern efforts to undo the progress, but the verve and anger we deliver in return shows just how much more we care about queer livelihoods today. There was a time when the repression of queer people wasn’t a hot topic, but the tacitly accepted status quo by most of society.
MOREs are still here, but they’ve changed shape. Our awareness of how people experience attraction has exploded (in a good way). MOREs are more common than ever because of how many sexual identities we acknowledge. They’re also happier and more consensual than ever. We’re better equipped to know our sexuality and form relationships with others who know theirs.
Despite its fading relevance in academia thanks largely to wider social acceptance of queerness, I still think MOREs are relevant. MORE is still a useful term that can explain our lives and experiences. If you’ve been in one, you’ve probably learned that a difference in sexual identity can be a source of mutual understanding or endless frustration.
Which is why I brought some questions to people who’ve been in MOREs to get their perspectives.
1. What are your pronouns and current gender identity?
Moira*, discussing her relationship with a heterosexual man: I’m Moira. I go by she/her pronouns and I’m a cisgender woman.
Finn, discussing their relationship with : My name is Finn Rindlisbacher, they/them, non-binary.
Denise*, discussing her relationship with a heterosexual man: My name is Denise* and I’m a cisgender woman (she/her).
2. What’s one case of your mixed sexual orientations being a source of stress?
Moira: Well, my boyfriend almost gave up on first asking me out because he found out my previous partner was a woman, thought I was a lesbian, and was completely crushed. That was pretty stressful for him.
Finn: It could be stressful as his white-knuckled clutch to the label of heterosexuality made me reconsider if he actually saw me and respected me as my preferred gender or saw me only as my assigned gender (I was female at birth) because otherwise his masculinity would be threatened.
Denise: My last boyfriend was heterosexual, and we started our relationship with a poly arrangement. For a long time, he got noticeably jealous about me being with men, but this wasn’t the case with women. This brought up some insecurities in me.
3. What is the best thing about being in a mixed orientation relationship?
Moira: It sounds cheesy, but the best thing about a mixed-orientation relationship is the opportunity to appreciate different viewpoints. For example, on some level I instinctively believed that everyone had the same experience of ‘choosing’ to be straight as a teenager due to social pressures. But some people are just like, really straight.
Finn: I suppose it broadens your perspective of how others experience attraction and means you’re not stuck in what could almost be considered to be a state of confirmation bias about the nuances of relationships and romance in general.
Denise: Dating someone heterosexual as a bisexual woman meant that I could induct him into queer communities and culture. It brought him into queer culture in a safe way and gave him some of the space he needed to do some personal exploration without judgment from me, his partner.
4. Silliest thing to happen because of your different sexual orientations. Go.
Moira: When my boyfriend tentatively asked me about my sexuality a couple months into dating, and I realized that I’d never actually explained it or even hinted at it, beyond mentioning previous partners of different genders. I felt silly for not bringing it up (especially because single-sex attracted people can be insecure about it, so it’s worth addressing), but he’d made me feel so comfortable being myself that it completely slipped my mind.
Finn: The silliest thing to happen was once when we went out for a walk and saw a really pretty girl, and we both immediately looked at each other like “Oh my gosh! Are you seeing what I’m seeing?!” And started crushing from afar immediately.
Denise: Gradually exposing him to lesbian cat culture until he saw reason and became a cat person. He even started describing himself as a cat lesbian in a man’s body. Even though we split up, he recently told me he’s looking to adopt a proper little drain rat.
After getting people’s opinions on MOREs, I was a little surprised to see that I went three-for-three on people seeing mixed sexual orientations as a way to see new perspectives. It turns out that buy-in and honesty can turn differences into points of learning.
Still, mixing up sexual orientations does add a bit of difference in the relationship. That can mean misunderstandings, conflict, or even incompatibility in some areas. I don’t rag on people who lean toward people of the same sexual orientation, because finding common ground is the start to strong relationships. Not everyone can thrive in relationships with people who are different in something so important as sexual orientation, and that’s okay.
Above all, MOREs are a showcase of how many shapes a queer relationship can take. I’ve met asexuals who love their allosexual spouses, but won’t be fucking much. My current relationship began with me, a cis-het guy, dating a bisexual woman. One thing led to another, and there are only bisexual women in this house now.
The MORE label is helpful to me because it brings awareness to relationships that are defined by joining through our diversity. It nudges us into thinking about our relationship dynamics, but there’s none of the pressure to identify hard and underline ourselves by the term to the exclusion of our other vibrance. I like that.
*These names have been changed for privacy
