My Polyamory Experience

For this “On Relating” post, I thought I’d write a bit about how my partners and I relate. Oh, great. Wait—did you say partners? Yes—I have two partners. I’m polyamorous.

At that point I typically get one of three reactions: A) Shocked silence; B) Oh, wow—how does that work? C) Oh, wow—I’ve been curious about that.

For those that react in shocked silence, I get it. It’s a pretty different way of relating. And for those that see monogamy as a pre-ordained, God-given, state of being, meeting someone that’s coloring so far outside those lines might, I imagine, feel shocking indeed.

For those that wonder how it can work, my answer is, it depends. If all involved share, and welcome hearing, each others’ feelings, needs, desires, and boundaries, and keep doing so on a regular basis, it can go amazingly well. Like, Look at this thing we’re doing! Everyone’s happy, supportive, in love, and free! It feels like a magic trick.

When communication falls below some critical threshold or, if feelings, needs, desires, or boundaries are actively hidden, things can go sideways in relatively short order. Then it can feel like a train wreck.

To those who have a curiosity, I say it can be done. I’m not here to advocate that it’s the “right” way to go about relating but with some good communication skills, a couple of books or podcasts to light the way, and lots of practice, you may find an expansiveness and joy that you hadn’t previously known.

My first partner and I started slowly. We talked about it before we got married years ago. Then we dipped our toes in... and quickly ran off the rails. She went on a date with a friend of ours. He was part of a couple we regularly spent time with. They were super fun, young, and hip. We lived in a small, relatively rural, town in Northern California. Befriending them felt like such a treat.

We didn’t all sit down to talk about what might transpire, let alone what everyone felt or needed. My partner came home from the date to me feeling depressed and disoriented. And our other friend, the woman of the couple, wasn’t into her partner dating outside their relationship, though he thought she was OK with it, or perhaps her views had changed. I’m not sure. But we did for sure wreck that train. We never spent time with them again and then they moved to L.A.

It felt like quite a loss. Friends weren’t that easy for us to come by in the redwoods. But something good did come out of it. When my partner came home from that first date, and found me mopey and down, she said to me, “You know, you have a choice about how you want to feel about this.” In that moment it clarified for me that feelings aren’t “truth”. Yes, it’s true that we feel a certain way but I don’t think feelings represent some objective truth.

I could decide to feel mopey and depressed or I could decide to feel open and curious. Sure, it was perhaps an understandable reaction, but that reframing helped me snap out of my mopiness.

Years later, when we were more practiced, and my partner started regularly seeing someone, I again faced fear and doubt. What if she falls in love with him and leaves me? To this she offered reassurance in the form of sweet texts when she was away. I love you! 😍 I can’t wait to see you! Want to get dinner together on Thursday? 😘🥰🥰😍 That kind of thing. Reframing is great. And when we need reassurance, being reassured feels great too.

Jealousy never comes up for me. I think it did very early on. And I think a couple of things helped me release it. One was talking with my original partner about our relationship and understanding and reaffirming for each other that we loved and valued each other, that we both supported each others’ happiness, and that opening our relationship up was not an “instead of” but an “addition to” our relationship.

The other thing I felt helped was releasing the idea of ownership or monopoly over my partner’s capacity to love. I perceive this idea of ownership still baked into our language. “My” partner. “My” husband. “My” wife. Yes, my partner(s), but not only mine. I love them but I don’t possess them. They are free.

The feeling I often feel now is compersion, that is, if one of my partners finds joy with another, I feel joy. I feel happy that they’re happy.

These days my partner has another partner and dates as well. She and I are nested (we live together). I enjoy when her partner comes up for visits. I have another partner too. I love them both very much. And both of my partners get along well with each other; each is in support of my relationship with the other; and, on occasion, they spend time together without me.

Occasionally there are bumps in the roads but we all get together about once a month to work through anything that feels prickly or challenging. Having that time slated on the calendar makes it so much easier to bring things up that we, perhaps, weren’t able to bring up in the day-to-day. And we talk day-to-day too. Everything is OK to talk about. Every feeling is welcomed. No one is blamed or judged. I think those things are key.

We practice a style of poly known as “relationship anarchy,” which may sound more rabble-rousing than it is. What that means is that we don’t hold any hierarchies in our relationships. Any relationship can rise to whatever level of connection or importance feels good to both partners within the relationship.

Regarding my original partner and I, this might feel like working without a net. After doing some research, however, we agreed with the assessment that any rules meant to protect or preserve our relationship might easily become a source of conflict with other partners. It seems unfair to say to a partner’s other partner, your relationship with this person you love can only go so far because I love them too, and she and I deem our relationship as more important than your relationship with her. So everyone is free, and every relationship may find its own equilibrium.

The limiting thing I’m noticing now is time. As I mentioned, I live with one partner. The other lives a few-hours drive away. We see each other a couple of times a month, a week or so at a time. It’s happened a couple of times that I’ve seen my nested partner less than my other partner because she has her own schedule and travel plans that sometimes don’t link up neatly with mine.

And I sometimes feel disjointed to have a life in two places. What seems ideal would be all living on the same property, or at least in the same town. But everyone has their own lives and attachments, and there’s a country border involved too, so I’m not sure if that will ever come to be.

All-in-all though, life feels pretty joyous. I’m in relationships with two beautiful partners. They’re each unique, and each relationship offers its own highlights and joys. And it feels wonderful to enable and create more love in the world.

As I said, I’m not here to convince anyone on the merits of polyamory but, if you would like resources, I recommend these:

More Than Two
A book by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert

Multiamory
A podcast

I wish you much love and joy on your journey.