Yeah, I'm Polyamorous

I don’t like labels. I feel that complex social or intimate agreements are often diminished or misunderstood by a label and that labelling something as intricate as a romantic relationship leads to making assumptions. Let us not forget that when we assume, we make an ass out of u and me. It is for this reason that I call the woman I am committed to my "partner," not "girlfriend." I have been with my current partner for two and a half years. We have always been polyamorous and, as far as I know, we intend on continuing to be. Whilst I believe I know all the reasons behind why she has chosen to be in this partnership, I can only speak for myself when expressing my thoughts and opinions on this type of relationship model. I hope in the following prose I can make the idea of an "alternative relationship" not only understandable, but something to be thoroughly considered when figuring out how we as a society engage in feelings of love, attraction, passion and sex.

Usually, at some point in a conversation around the seemingly controversial subject of "polyamory," the person I’m speaking with will say, "I couldn’t do that," or "I’m too much of a jealous person." It is here that I describe my rationale for endeavouring into an emotional engagement that, to the outside world, is either too challenging or simply means I "don’t really love" my partner.

First things first, I’m of the school of thought that we humans grow and learn from doing things that are difficult. Experiencing challenge is what allows us to become stronger both in a physical and mental capacity, and I believe the same is true for romantic engagements. Jealousy is the worst. Being in the partnership that I am, I continuously face insecurities, fears, questions of inadequacy, helplessness and a couple of other feelings of torment that may lead you to ask the question, why? Why actively participate in something that has the potential to create so much inner unrest? I’ll tell you why: I want to become a better person. The only way I will ever deal with my fears and inadequacies, is to make myself available to them. To sit face to face with these experiences and unlearn the behaviourial patterns that decide to creep in every time my partner is in another's company. I’ve come a long way. Dealing with these crippling feelings of self-doubt is to first recognise that they are manifested in my own mind and not my partners actions.

My partner is not a possession of mine. She is a fully capable human being who is free to decide with whom she spends her time and in what capacity she does so. Each time I experience an emotional challenge, I welcome the opportunity and emerge from a meeting with Hades having learned something about myself.

Getting over myself was the first brutal hurdle I needed to leap over in order for anything to not only work, but work well with strong, healthy foundations. I am not currently, and might not ever be, all that my partner needs to feel fully loved, supported and sexually satisfied. This does not mean I do not fully love and support her. I would be a fool to believe I could give any woman everything she ever wanted, but I can gift my partner with absolutely everything I have to give.

To be nourished is the next step. I feel this might come across as confusing, so I’ll do my best to be literate. Let's say my partner and I make each other "full," and by this I mean full of love, laughter, erotic interaction, romance, joy, healthy challenge, support, and all the things that go into making a relationship healthy. Furthering this theoretical endeavour, lets say in my presence, my partner is 98% full (thats a pretty high score within any relationship in my opinion). Our relationship model means that if the other 2% comes wandering along in the form of another man, she can cleanly and positively take the opportunity to reach 100%. With monogamy, there is still a possibility that one half, if not both halves of the relationship, are upping their percentage in an elusive or dishonest manner, which could be detrimental to the original relationship if actively hidden.

This is where radical honesty comes in. It is tough at first, don’t get me wrong, but the positives that come from operating in this way vastly outweigh the occasional emotional torment of the ego. One of the bravest things I have ever done is tell my partner I have slept with another woman. The bravery here is making myself vulnerable, voluntarily vocalising myself as someone who, in the past, would have been judged as "unfaithful" or "uncommitted." Brave because ultimately I’m afraid of rejection, and I’ve put myself in its firing line. I’ve exhibited behaviour that my entire life I’ve been raised to believe isn’t socially acceptable. The thing is, if my partner doesn’t know what choices I’ve made, how I’ve interacted with women, and what my longings are, then how does she even know who I am?

I am radically honest in most cases (not to strangers on the bus, that's not a great idea). It allows her to orientate herself around me so she can see me for who I really am, and this instills trust. I trust that if I challenge my partner via a romantic engagement outside of our partnership, she will continue to love me, voice her emotional response and take on the challenge of examining what reasons, if any, cause a negative emotional impact. Likewise, my commitment to her means that I am willing to take any opportunity to support her wishes and develop my own emotional literacy.

Language is an extremely important tool and I think it is something that is hugely underestimated when it comes to conveying thoughts, ideas and perceptions of how one feels. The reason for this, I think, is due to how much people's experiences of the same thing can differ. Past experiences and events that have been paramount in defining how a personality develops are things that can greatly separate opinions and points of view. An example would be, for instance, how I might react to an emotion I’m feeling. I could say, "We had plans and now you’ve bailed, what am I meant to do now?" and leave it at that, but the problem is, the victim card is being played. Blame is being placed on the person who, given this make-believe narrative, may have had no idea that after being asked if they were free, I had expected to spend time with them.

I’m currently in the practice of trying to pinpoint what it is that creates a feeling and expressing it accurately in a way that is empathetic to whom I am speaking. It is important to me that my use of language is "clean," and by this I mean I keep away from using language that anyone could interpret as blaming, aggressive or manipulative. So, an effective explanation of how I’m feeling might sound like, "I’m a bit down because you’re unavailable to hang out. My invitation wasn’t clear, and because I didn’t communicate effectively, you didn’t know I had planned to spend time with you." Although it might seem a lengthy and energy-consuming practice, I think putting in the extra effort to elaborate and really voice how one feels is key in developing the practice of clear and clean communication within a relationship. To recognise no one else is responsible for my emotional discomfort, that I have a choice of how to view any given situation so that it can be resolved through a positive interaction, is my aim.

I could write for weeks on the topic of communication and how easy it is to be misunderstood. Maybe another time, but for now, this is all that comes to mind around how I choose to exist in relationships. I hope this text is as insightful and informative to readers as I would like it to be. I’m a fan of heartfelt endings, so here’s my attempt at closing this piece in an inspiring and emotive manner.

May we sit side by side as technologically-abused millennials in an era of instant gratification, basic bitches, fuckboys and seriously concerning states of mental health. May we take any opportunity to better ourselves, make our existence alongside one another more bearable and maybe even pleasant. May our relations to others, the use of language, and in turn, the world prosper from our efforts in seeking wellbeing. May we be so free that our very existence is an act of rebellion.