Not your Guinea Pig

The word “Polyamory” and those who practice it are often viewed with fascination. Most of it comes from not being able to fathom how it can be practiced against decades of conditioning leading us to believe that there is the “one” out there for each of us and that unconditional love is the pinnacle of achievement in these sorts of relationships. 

A lot of it comes from morbid curiosity with respect to how a polyamorous relationship would play out. Most people have never had the chance to experiment with it; they’ve been exposed to no other form of relationship structure other than monogamy. 

Some reactions come with repulsion and disgust. Repulsion due to the fact that this sort of a relationship structure doesn’t align with what we’ve been taught love to be. And all of it comes from preconceived notions of what it is like to be someone polyamorous.

I’ve been polyamorous for over 8 years and been in a throuple through a solid 4 years of that time. 

While speaking to outsiders about this, I’ve dealt with all of these preconceived notions about what it means to practice polyamory ranging from curiosity about whether it's full of orgies to outrageous questions about our sleeping arrangements, and all sorts of other questions that would be considered appalling to say the least, if asked to a regular couple. 

Dating while being polyamorous has been yet another battle with these same preconceived notions and assumptions. While being poly is often taken as an excuse for the complete lack of accountability, the assumption is also that there exist no boundaries in this form of relationship structure.

While all of this has a weight of its own, the absolute worst part about being polyamorous has been the conflict resolution and the break-ups. Regardless of whether a relationship is romantic or platonic, a very big indicator of the health of a relationship is how conflicts are resolved.

Is it with tenderness where the view is “us” against the problem, or is it two people against each other? These resolutions of conflicts is what determines the depth of the connection. 

It is here, in these moments, that our sense of safety is challenged and a typically benign situation can very quickly turn into a battle for self-preservation.

It is also where a lot of our individual triggers and past unresolved issues surface. These, according to me, are the make or break point of any relationship. This is where I have lost most of my own. 

Self-preservation comes in many forms. It’s letting your words get away from you in the middle of a fight in order to protect yourself. It’s pulling away when things get challenging. It’s ghosting. It’s also using someone else’s circumstances as an excuse to justify causing them pain. 

One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding those who are polyamorous, particularly those with existing partners, is the assumption that they have a robust support system capable of tending to their needs, regardless of any pain inflicted.

This assumption becomes particularly prominent when the other person involved in this situation does not have multiple partners. 

Consequently, individuals with existing partners find themselves in a precarious position when conflicts arise. 

Amidst the multitude of triggers and unresolved issues from the past, it becomes all too effortless to detach oneself from the inherent humanity of another person, and presume that they can bounce back from any situation due to the presence of an emotional support network. 

It becomes alarmingly simple to prioritize self-preservation and inflict harm on someone, under the pretext of them not being alone.

It is precisely here at this point that dating while being non-monogamous starts to feel like a landmine.

When you cannot trust the actions of the other person to not sub-consciously use your existing relationships as a force field for protecting themselves?

It’s when people date someone non-monogamous while secretly hoping for a happily ever after with their one true love, whenever that may be, thus reducing their non-monogamous partner to nothing more than a place holder.

Or dating while being entirely unsure if this practice meets their individual needs, thereby making their non-monogamous partner a social experiment. 

Or sometimes simply getting up and leaving without any explanation because there are existing partners to take care of the mess that’s left behind.

Why is it that those practicing alternate relationship structures are viewed as devoid of having deeper feelings?

Is viewing fellow humans as something of an experiment, often close to using them as a social punching bag, not internalised hatred towards them? 

Is this not a form of objectification? 

Is this not dehumanisation? 

And what about accountability? 

Knowing and acknowledging how our sense of self preservation gets triggered in relationships is an act of accountability. Along with being an act of love.

Although I understand that not everyone may fully grasp or accept alternative relationship structures, it isn’t too much to ask for a modest level of self-awareness when entering a relationship. Any relationship.

While it is unfortunate that the judgment towards non-monogamous dynamics may not diminish in the near future, I do not ask for a mere deconstruction of the stigmas against polyamorous units. 

The priority here is to put compassion, introspection and accountability as individuals and communities above our search for filmy romances.

Don’t build entire relationships based on bare minimum, fleeting attractions alone. At least not without being upfront with your partner about where you’re at.

When the efforts of your partner do not match the efforts you’re putting in, recognise that adult connections are about discussing those mismatches and building a state of equilibrium together.

Don’t hop into relationships just because you can. Ask yourself why you want to build one, then learn to say those words out loud to the people you build them with.

And do not walk away with the assumption that there are others who will clean up your mess.