Loving with open hands: On polyamory

Part one

I have been actively polyamorous for a little over seven years consistently. I practice a type of polyamory sometimes called nonhierarchical polyamory, and sometimes called relationship anarchy. It is within this relationship structure that I have developed secure attachment for the first time in my life, with my longterm life partner, Jay, and a much increased capacity for secure attachment generally. I’ve had a lot of practice developing secure attachment and healthy relating skills in many relationships over the last seven years. Different relationships bring out different attachment dynamics, different challenges, different perspectives, and different possibilities.

I used to really struggle with polyamory. My first adult attempt at polyamory (I was also poly as a teenager) was when I was 26 years old, and I really struggled. My complex ptsd and disorganized attachment were highly activated by polyamory. My partner at the time and I ended up closing the relationship and going monogamous. It was supposed to be temporary, but we never opened up the relationship again. I ended up leaving the relationship and choosing to set out on my own, trying to date in a polyamorous way. Shortly after that, I fell in love with one of my current partners, Jay, who practices nonhierarchical polyamory / relationship anarchy.

Over the past seven years I have grown so much, and healed so much, and I am now thriving in polyamory. I’ve written a lot about how polyamory has been difficult and challenging, but I haven’t written much since arriving at this place of joy and peace. All my hard work is very much paying off, and I am currently experiencing very intense polyamory bliss. I think there’s this idea floating around in the general culture that there’s no way poly people are really happy and satisfied. This is expressed in the immediate, reactive “I could never do that” from monogamous people followed by the weirdly pitying expression that implies that I must not really be loved. This used to really hurt me. As someone who struggled to feel secure in my loving relationships, the fact that I live in a world that side eyes my relationship style and assumes it must be deficient, added extra pain.

I love polyamory so much. This is the only way I ever want to build relationships. This is the only way I want to love and be loved. I do not want monogamy and I would not feel loved in a monogamous relationship. Like all practices that position themselves as natural and superior, monogamy has an insecurity problem. Truly satisfied monogamous people are not threatened by open discussion of polyamory. But in the current culture, all discussion of polyamory is happening in a context that positions monogamy as the norm. Therefore, polyamory must be seen as dysfunctional, delusional, and lesser than, or monogamous people get defensive and insecure and feel like they need to justify their monogamy. So for the record, and for everyone’s reading comprehension — there is no superior relationship style. Every intentional relationship style can be healthy and delicious. I don’t judge monog people. I don’t consider myself secretly superior or more evolved than monog people. I just want to be able to talk openly about the way I love without experiencing other people’s projections, insecurities, or judgements.

Monogamy is so deeply entrenched in our culture, and a very possessive, proprietary type of monogamy is the norm. We have been exposed to nonstop propaganda that monogamy is the only healthy, normal, and real way to love. We are taught that we should feel possessive about our partners and accept them feeling possessive about us. We take for granted that feeling important, special, taken care of, and loved, is synonymous with being “the only one.” How often do you think the word “only” is said in love songs? I would say, a lot. This makes it difficult for people to understand polyamory and other forms of nonmonogamy. I think deprogramming from the dysfunctional worldview of compulsory monogamy would be good for everyone, including those who prefer an intentional, monogamous relationship structure.

I do not have the worldview of compulsory monogamy. I have very thoroughly deprogrammed from that way of looking at the world. Therefore, that way of looking at the world does not make sense to me and isn’t immediately obvious. Whenever I talk to monogamous people I feel I am in a process of translation: I have to navigate their unexamined assumptions, and so therefore I have to remember what their unexamined assumptions even are. I live my life in a polyamorous way and from a polyamorous worldview, and this shapes my entire life, not just my romantic relationships. Many people would describe my relationship orientation as relationship anarchy. I more frequently refer to myself as (nonhierarchical) polyamorous but I do think that relationship anarchy is also accurate.

On top of being polyamorous, I am attachment focused. That means that I understand relationships through the lens of attachment theory, and I am very interested in building secure relationships. The compulsory monogamy worldview implies and outright states over and over again that secure attachment is only possibly in monogamous relationships. This is not true. And while secure attachment can definitely be created in monogamous romantic relationships, it can also be created in many different types of relationships. Polyamory / relationship anarchy creates unique opportunities to work on attachment healing, because this worldview sees every close relationship as an attachment relationship. There’s a myth that be poly means being hyper-independent and not getting attached. This couldn’t be further from the truth.

Here are some of the fundamental premises of my polyamorous worldview:

I am free and I am responsible. I have the full freedom to feel all of my desires, attractions, fantasies, hopes, fears, and dreams. I am sovereign and no one is in charge of me except for myself. I consensually enter into agreements, dynamics, relationships, and commitments, and I intentionally shape these with the other person. These intentional and consensual containers can shift and change as needed, based on what the people inside of them want and need. I am responsible to my existing relationships, and to meeting the commitments in those relationships. I am responsible for myself: understanding myself deeply, communicating about my wants, needs, boundaries, and preferences, and doing what I need to do to show up to my relationships responsibly. My capacity for responsibility has expanded deliciously over the years of intentionally practicing responsibility.

I am irreplaceable. Yes, you read that correctly. I am completely and utterly irreplaceable. There is only one me, and no other person can be me. Once you have experienced secure attachment, the idea of being “replaced” becomes absurdly laughable. I came to understand and then deeply embody the secure realization that no one can replace me. Relationships can change and end for many reasons, and it is true that new partners and dynamics can shift things for existing ones, but I do not fear other partners somehow “taking away” my partners. I trust that my partners want to be with me because our relationship is fulfilling and dynamic and delicious. Other people can offer their own irreplaceable uniqueness, and that’s great. I wish for my partners to have as many fulfilling connections as they can responsibly maintain. If I want my relationships to be secure, I need to invest in making them secure (through vulnerability, communication, deep listening, and shared joy — not through being “hot” lol).

Nonhierarchical does not mean that all relationships are exactly the same, have the same level of commitment, or are prioritized the same way. It means that there is no hierarchy of power. It means that decisions about a relationship are made by the people IN that relationship, with consideration for existing relationships and commitments. It means that no one outside a relationship can impose restrictions on that relationship. So for example, I cannot “veto” someone a partner of mine wants to date, and they cannot “veto” someone I want to date, but we can, of course, provide feedback or concerns. Another example: if someone accidentally double books, the decision will not be based on a hierarchy of relationship length or level of commitment, but on a number of factors: What is everyone’s ability to reschedule? Are the commitments in each relationship generally being met lately? How long has it been since each person saw the partner in question? Is someone going through something right now and needs to be prioritized? Etc.

All relationships matter, not just romantic ones. And at the same time, romantic relationships are specific in their vulnerability. It is okay to keep certain commitments or types of intimacy within romantic relationships, and it is okay to choose to prioritize your romantic relationships in certain ways (and if we are honest, I think we reserve certain intimacies and commitments for friends too). But that does not mean devaluing your friends. And this is perhaps what makes me the most “relationship anarchist.” When I am looking at my “dance card” aka, how many commitments do I currently have and what is my actual availability, I count my friends as serious emotional commitments that require time, energy, and availability for me. While our capacity to feel is endless, our time and resources are not. Being so polysaturated that you’ve abandoned all other types of relationships beyond romantic ones, and are unable to meet the commitments even in the romantic ones, sucks for everyone and isn’t fun.

(I am currently dating three people — two more serious partnerships and one newer but important dating relationship — and I have two close friends who I prioritize in a frequent, regular way. That’s five important relationships I’m juggling. And then I have many other friends and connections that are more spacious and require less commitment time and energy wise but still matter to me. I also have a busy work life, hobbies, a dog, etc etc. To do this well, I need to know my capacity, and my limits.)

I decide what is important and necessary for me to feel safe, loved, and considered in my relationships. It’s my responsibility to communicate about this with my partners (and friends) and to work together with the other person to find agreements that feel genuinely good for everyone. Compulsory monogamy culture leads us to believe that people universally have basically the same needs around feeling loved but that isn’t true. For example, I could completely get on board with someone I romantically love having a child with someone else (something compulsory monogamy culture would definitely say is insane). It would obviously come with its own challenges, but it is not a deal breaker for me and it isn’t even something I would be against. But a partner not consistently showing me they care about me, are thinking about me, and want to include me in their life, would be a deal breaker for me. Polyamory has helped me to get really good at identifying what I need to feel safe and loved in a connection, and allows me to let go of a whole bunch of demands that compulsory monogamy makes that I don’t actually care about.

My preferred style of polyamory is called “kitchen table polyamory.” This means that everyone in a polyamorous network (your partners and your partners’ partners, and maybe even sometimes your partners’ partners’ partners) could all sit around a kitchen table together. The relationships can range from polite and friendly, to actually close and intimate, depending on everyone’s preferences and desires. I prefer this because I see my metamours (my partners’ partners) as very much “on my team.” We share something so sacred: our love for the same person. We have a relationship whether we name it and embrace it or not, because we affect each other through our shared partner as we negotiate and compromise and sort out a shared life. It is very important to me to extend respect and care to my metamours which — importantly — includes respecting their boundaries and not forcing intimacy where it doesn’t exist or isn’t wanted.

Each important relationship I have nourishes me in a very specific and irreplaceable way. In a very real way, I am someone specific in each relationship because each relationship brings out different elements of who I am, and every relationship changes me. The attachment work, the space of eroticism, the deep affection, the shared laughter, the growth and change that happens in each relationship is utterly specific and precious. One of the greatest joys that makes my heart literally explode, is when my partners are affirming and encouraging of my other relationships. It makes me feel so loved and so safe. As a survivor who has been humiliated and degraded for my sexuality, I love having partners who see that my sexuality is sovereign, and who sincerely want me to have nourishing experiences, whether with them or someone else.

Polyamory is vulnerable and risky. So is all love. I don’t think polyamorous love is much different than intentional monogamous love, it’s just more complex and you are open to being loved, and hurt, and changed, in multiple serious romantic relationships simultaneously. Polyamory can be particularly challenging for those with trauma and insecure attachment, but it can also be particularly generative and transformative for those same people. I have never experienced secure attachment in a monogamous relationship. It is polyamory, and the work I’ve done in polyamorous relationships, that has opened the door to deep delicious security in my connections.

I want polyamory to break out of the niche “open relationship” category and to be a part of the larger conversation on love, attachment, and building deep, meaningful, satisfying relationships. Everything I know about love and attachment I learned from polyamory, so I want to talk specifically about polyamory when I discuss love and attachment. I think this is useful information for all people, whether they choose monogamy for their romantic relationships or not. We are all actually polyamorous in the sense that at our best we have multiple important loving relationships. We might choose to explore sexuality, eroticism, and/or romance in some of our relationships or in only one, but either way, we love multiple people. And either way, loving well means loving intentionally. Polyamory is part of the larger human conversation on love.

To be continued.

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Clementine Morrigan is a writer and public intellectual based in Montréal, Canada. She writes popular and controversial essays about culture, politics, ethics, relationships, sexuality, and trauma. A passionate believer in independent media, she’s been making zines since the year 2000 and is the author of several books. She’s known for her iconic white-text-on-a-black-background mini-essays on Instagram. One of the leading voices on the Canadian Left and one half of the Fucking Cancelled podcast, Clementine is an outspoken critic of cancel culture and a proponent of building solidarity across difference. She is a socialist, a feminist, and a vegan for the animals and the earth.

Browse her shop, listen to her podcast, book a one on one session with her, or peruse her list of resources and further reading.

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