When people transition away from monogamy they’re inevitably going to make mistakes. I still do. Patricia Johnson and Mark A. Michaels are sex and relationship experts who outline how to create “designer relationships” that begin by acknowledging the unique needs of people in the relationship. When I dipped my toes into polyamory a decade ago, their book might have made the process less confusing.
But no matter how many books a person reads, transitioning to CNM is always challenging. It’s liberating. It can be more flexible for different people’s needs. It’s also hard. The transition inevitably triggers feelings of insecurity, fear, and self-doubt. For me, it was hard to figure out what my needs were beyond the life scripts I had been assigned. I couldn’t imagine why Per wanted more. Nor did I understand why I also wanted more.
Now, polyamory is an important and enriching part of my life. I still make mistakes: I hurt people and I get hurt. And it was often my metamours who helped me feel safe and cared for through the process.
On a cold, rainy day last fall, I was on my way home from work. It had been a long day of teaching, it was dark, and the bus wasn’t coming. Per and Rachel, his current partner, had a date that night. When the storm started, he texted to check in on me. They put the dinner on hold so they could pick me up, saving me a long walk in the rain. At home, I dried off, and they served me a huge bowl of spicy eggplant curry. I warmed up as we all laughed listening to Rachel’s report from her first visit to the Folsom Street Fair.
We delight in intimate relationships that remind us that love is an abundant resource
But polyamory is more than just hitching rides and eggplant curry. Per has struggled with depression and aimlessness, feelings that come with anxiety about late-stage capitalism. I can’t be his sole source of emotional support. Continue reading