Despite what you may think after the past 256 pages, most of the time poly relationships are pretty much like monogamous relationships. There's coffee and movies and cuddling and sex and talking, meals and arguments and chores and balancing the house accounts. (Okay, maybe there's more talking.) Plenty of situations are unique to poly, though, and many things that crop up in monogamous relationships involve special considerations when more than two people are involved. And there are a few poly bogeys—scary situations and problems with no easy solutions, which no one really likes to talk about but which exist all the same.
In Part 4 we go deep into the nuts and bolts of poly relationships: things like time management, sex and, yes, those scary, no-easy-solution problems. We've already talked about the idea of the "relationship escalator": the script deeply ingrained in monogamous culture that defines the default path for "successful" relationships, from dating to sex to living together to marriage and kids. You may jump off the escalator and start again from the bottom with someone else, but the assumed goal is to find the right one for the trip all the way to the top, at which point you're done. As we've said, polyamory can free you from the relationship escalator, allowing you to grow relationships that nourish everyone in the ways they most need.
The variety of poly relationships is, as we've mentioned, huge. We can't make assumptions about the shape or path of your relationships. However, most poly relationships do pass through certain stages: things like new relationship energy, and the start of a new relationship while in an established one. These stages present uniquely poly challenges. Here are some places where poly relationships diverge from monogamous relationships and the old templates no longer apply.
The timing of new relationships
There's no perfect time for a new relationship to start, nor a set schedule for how quickly or slowly it should develop. Sometimes opportunity knocks at the most inopportune times. New relationships are wonderful, joyous and stressful. Attempting to script how and when they develop amid your existing ones is like trying to corral elephants; these things have a certain inertia of their own, and sometimes all you can do is learn to be nimble on your feet.
Some people prefer to start new relationships infrequently, and to impose a moratorium after a new one begins to allow it to grow roots. Others choose not to start a new relationship if there are problems in any existing relationship, or during times of turbulence or stress. Still others prefer to remain open to new relationships whenever connections might occur. None of these strategies is always effective. Allowing relationships time to solidify before taking on new partners is not a guarantee that new partners won't be disruptive, and being open to new relationships all the time doesn't necessarily mean a lot of romantic churn.
To some extent, the approach you'll take depends on your personal poly styles. People who favor a closely connected network of intimate relationships tend to decline opportunities for new relationships shortly after taking a new partner, whereas people with a more solo or independent poly style are more likely to be open to relationships whenever and however they form. New partnerings can often feel threatening or, at the very least, destabilizing. This is where many people adopt another strategy: moving at the pace of the slowest person. "Move at the speed of the slowest person" is such common advice in poly discussion groups that it's become a trope.
Making sure everyone has time to process changes in a relationship, especially big changes, certainly has its advantages. The gotcha is that "Move at the pace of the slowest person" can turn into a pocket veto. "Not now, not yet" can, if unchecked, quietly become "Not ever." If one person is urging others to slow down, there must be a recognition that she needs to show she is making some progress toward being comfortable with things. Otherwise, "Move at the speed of the slowest person" turns into "Don't move at all." If "no movement" is a person's intent, they should say so up front.
Rushing into a new relationship can lead to instability. But moving more slowly than what's natural for the relationship can also damage it. Relationships, like living things, have a natural pacing and rhythm. Artificially limiting a relationship's growth can leave people feeling hurt and frustrated. Counterintuitively, it can cause the relationship to be more disruptive. Imagine how much more desperate Romeo and Juliet felt because their parents tried to keep them apart, and how much less turbulent the story would have been if their parents had said, "Eh, you two work it out."
In any relationship, it pays to check in often with yourself and your partner about the state of the union. Is it growing in ways that serve your needs? Is the pace of the relationship appropriate for your mutual desires? Does it cause unnecessary difficulties for your other partners?
New relationship energy
Few things raise trepidation in the hearts of poly people faster than new relationship energy. NRE, as it's (un)affectionately known, is that crazy, giddy, I-can't-stop-thinking-of-you, everything-about-you-is-marvelous feeling you get at the start of a new relationship.
The biochemistry of NRE is becoming fairly well understood. During the early stages of a romantic relationship, our brains go a little haywire. Several neurotransmitters, most notably dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine,* are produced in greater quantities, generally producing emotional effects that are part attraction and devotion, part obsessive-compulsive disorder, part mystical experience and part physical lust. We become infatuated and twitterpated whenever the person is near. In this state, we're biochemically predisposed to overlook their flaws and faults, see the best in everything they do, convince ourselves that we are meant to be with them, and crave their attention. When people make distinctions between "love" and "being in love," what they describe as "being in love" is generally something like new relationship energy.
Psychologist Dorothy Tennov coined the term limerence in 1979 to describe a state of romantic attraction characterized by intrusive thoughts of a person, overwhelming fear of rejection by that person, and powerful, obsessive need for reciprocation. Limerence, in other words, is what we feel when we fall in love with someone regardless of whether they like us in return; new relationship energy is limerence in an actual new relationship.
For the partner of a person starting a new relationship, NRE is scary stuff. The overwhelming feelings can make existing relationships feel drab by comparison. Worse, the tendency to idolize new partners can easily trick us into making too many commitments too quickly, which can create chaos in the existing relationships.
We're not saying NRE is a bad thing. On the contrary, it's transcendent. NRE lets us start a relationship bathed in delight. There's a reason this biochemical response exists: the excitement and giddiness can help lay the emotional foundation for a rewarding, loving partnership. But to make it through NRE while preserving our other relationships, we need to recognize it for what it is, nurture our other partners when we feel it, and not mistake it for love.
We've seen a lot of policies in poly relationships designed to mitigate the effects of new relationship energy, but none that seem terribly successful. When it comes to people's brain chemistry, rules and agreements have a way of falling by the wayside.
A more effective way to deal with with a partner's NRE involves both communication and patience. The good news is that this biochemical madness doesn't last forever; the bad news is that it can last as long as two or three years. Patience is important, because a person experiencing NRE literally isn't quite in their right mind. Communication is important too; when you observe your partner behaving in ways that make you feel insecure, neglected, threatened or taken for granted, you need to say so. Patience in communication is also key, because a partner in the throes of NRE may not hear you the first time.
When you're the one experiencing NRE, mindfulness is the only consistently successful strategy we've seen. Be aware that you're not in your right mind, that your perceptions are distorted, and that your judgment is impaired. Don't make life-altering decisions while intoxicated. Don't pledge your life to this marvelous person you met last week. Be aware that you will be predisposed to neglect your existing relationships, and try not to do that. Be willing to do a reality check.
A particularly insidious pattern can set in when the hormonal cocktail begins to wear off. A person who doesn't understand what's happening may become convinced that the relationship is no longer interesting and was probably a mistake from the start, and she starts casting around for a new relationship, which she pursues with zeal until that NRE too wears off. In monogamous culture this takes the form of short-term serial relationships. In polyamory, this pattern can present as a series of ongoing relationships that begin explosively and then wither from neglect. In either case, the chemical high of NRE is mistaken for love, and the sufferer seeks the next new hit like an addict.
* Some people also implicate another neurotransmitter, phenylethylamine (PEA), in attraction and pair-bonding, though this assertion is still controversial. Some studies have suggested it plays a role, but other studies have not supported this conclusion.
Living together
Being involved with multiple partners complicates the logistics of cohabitation. When many people first hear about polyamory, they envision a bunch of people living together in a commune. While that does sometimes happen, it's really not that common. More often, we see households of two or three people, some or all of whom may have non-live-in relationships with other people. Some of those other people might have live-in relationships with their other partners.
As we've said, there's no standard model. Whether the people in a poly relationship live together depends only on their own needs and choices. After all, just because you love Eunice and you love Taj, and you can see yourself living with either or both of them, that doesn't necessarily mean Eunice and Taj can live with each other! Not everyone wants to live with even one lover. Some folks prefer having their own space. In fact, for people who practice a solo model of poly relationships, living alone may be vastly preferable to sharing a home, regardless of how committed the relationship is or how long it continues.
An entire class of problems can appear when we do live with multiple partners. Living with anyone in itself can be a source of stress and discomfort. A friend of ours likes to say these stresses aren't poly problems; they're roommate problems. We don't tend to consider live-in romantic partners the same way we think about roommates, but a lot of unnecessary suffering can be avoided when we employ the same strategies as for non-romantic roommates—strategies like negotiation and clear expectations around dishes in the sink, household chores, basic courtesy, respect for other people's sleeping schedules, and willingness to clean up after ourselves.
Take laundry, for instance. Who does the laundry in polyamorous relationships? In the monogamous world, that job tends to get assigned by default, more often than not along gender lines. In poly relationships we negotiate everything, including the division of domestic labor. Talk about who does the laundry. (In Eve's household, as in many poly households, there's an agreement that whoever has a lover over to the house changes and washes the sheets afterward.)
Commitments in poly relationships
The huge variation in poly relationships means there won't be a clear road map for what commitment looks like. Some folks argue this means polyamorous relationships can't be committed. Naturally we disagree, though we will say commitment in poly relationships is often quite different from the monogamous template. In monogamous culture, many commitments look like the relationship escalator. People who start dating each other and continue a while often expect a commitment to stop dating other people. Most monogamous dating couples who don't break up will eventually live together. Most people living together who don't break up will eventually feel they need to commit to getting married, owning property and maybe having kids together.
There are less tangible commitments as well. Most monogamous couples would probably agree that they have a commitment to seeing the relationship continue as long as it can. Most monogamous couples have a commitment to one another's well-being, which might mean anything from bringing chicken soup to a partner who's sick to driving a partner to work if her car breaks down.
Part of the beauty of poly relationships is they can look like almost anything the people involved want them to. But that means poly people are responsible for consciously designing our relationships. It's essential to be crystal clear when making commitments, and to never assume a commitment unless it's been explicitly stated. Simply being in a relationship with someone is not a commitment to the traditional relationship escalator. A pattern is not a commitment—and an assumption that it is can lead to a feeling of entitlement on one side and confusion on the other. Polyamory means creating relationships deliberately, not making assumptions about what they "should" look like. If you want your partner to make a certain commitment to you, don't assume…ask. If you are uncertain what commitments your partner thinks he or she has made, ask.
And be realistic about what commitments you can make. This means not just being realistic about your other commitments now, but about the flexibility you may require in the future when a new person enters your life. One challenge with polyamorous relationships is they require a willingness to leave space for other people who have their own needs and desires. This means that some types of commitments are especially problematic in poly relationships, and the need for flexibility on everybody's part is much greater.
For example, longer-term commitments are trickier than short-term ones. I can easily commit to a date with you next week, but to commit to a date with you the same night every week forever? That overlooks the fact that I may someday have someone new in my life, and that's the only night she can see me. Or maybe I'll someday want to go to Mexico for a week with her, which will mean canceling our date night. Commitments to always put one person "first" in certain things, or to always restrict certain activities to one person, can become problematic if someone enters the picture for whom one of the restricted activities is important. And everyone needs to be put first sometimes.
And then there are commitments that specify how other commitments are to be met. "I commit to sharing equally in our parenting responsibilities" is very different from "I commit to never spending the night away so that I will always be there for the kids' breakfast." Similarly, "I commit to living with you, remaining your ally throughout your life, and looking after you in your old age" is different from "I commit to never living with anyone else, never being a lifelong ally to someone else, and never taking time away from our relationship to care for another partner who needs help."
Another type of commitment that can trip you up is commitment to future intimacy. Many of the commitments we make in relationships—things like legal and financial responsibilities, a shared home or children—are actually commitments to life-building, not to feelings. And not to never changing your boundaries. When we're head over heels in love (or feeling NRE), we may want to promise to love our partner forever. We may even want to promise to desire them forever—as much as we do now. But as much as you may want to build a life with someone, consent to intimacy exists only right now, right here, in this moment. Consent means that you will be able to choose at all times the intimacy you participate in.
Being in a consensual romantic relationship means you are never obligated to any future intimacy, meaning anything that enters your personal boundaries. It can be sleeping together, having sex, hugging and kissing, sharing emotions, living together, having certain shared experiences or making shared choices. You can state future intentions, but you cannot pre-consent, and both people must recognize and respect personal boundaries in the present time, regardless of intentions stated in the past. This is important to understand, or else the relationship can easily become coercive.
Many people build structures against free exercise of consent in the future to protect themselves from their fears: "Never leave me." "Love me forever." Such statements are you or your partner asking for future control of the other's feelings and choices. But even if you have already made such promises, you can always withdraw consent, always draw new boundaries, or it's not consent at all. The moment you begin expecting any form of intimacy from a partner because of a commitment he has made to you, or ignore boundaries because you feel your partner has no right to set them because of prior commitments, your relationship has become coercive.
Financial commitments in polyamory need special attention. It's common for people in a relationship to combine their finances. In poly, we believe it's important to have access to some money that's just yours, even if you have joint finances with another person. This helps avoid one source of resentment and conflict. We have seen many people get upset when they feel that a partner is spending joint money on dates with someone else. This opens an avenue for control; a person who doesn't want his partner to have other relationships can simply forbid using "their" money to do so. When each person has some amount of money that is theirs to use as they wish, this helps eliminate the feeling that one person is subsidizing another's romantic life.
Commitments and solo poly
Advocating for needs and navigating commitments can be a special challenge for solo poly folks, whose relationships don't follow the usual script. We're accustomed to judging a relationship's significance by how far it's gone up the escalator. So when we don't see the conventional markers of a "serious" relationship, we may underestimate its depth and how much investment has gone into it. People who take a free-agent approach often look for partners who value them and their needs even when the relationship doesn't follow a traditional trajectory. So it's often not their partners who misunderstand the importance of their relationships, but their metamours. A partner's other partner can easily trivialize a relationship that doesn't appear "committed" because it doesn't have the normal markers (such as moving in together) that society associates with commitment.
Franklin's Story Amy and I started dating in 2004. Amy is solo poly, and our relationship has never been on course for the two of us to share finances or live together. During the time we've been partners, she has always maintained a high degree of autonomy, living by herself and making her own decisions. We didn't have a plan for our relationship; we let it take its own path.
In the years since, we have always been there for each other, through good times and bad. We have celebrated joy together, held each other through heartbreak, supported each other through the occasional bumps that any partnership faces. Despite that, we've never felt a need to develop a more traditional relationship.
It has sometimes been difficult for other people to recognize how committed Amy and I are to one another. This has been true with partners of mine who don't understand how we can "really" be committed to one another if we aren't planning an entwined future, and to partners of hers who don't consider ours a "real" relationship because, despite all the years we've been with each other, we haven't made any move toward living together. At times I've felt it necessary to stand up for our relationship against assumptions that it can't really be serious, and she has had to set boundaries when new or potential partners consider her entirely single because our relationship is almost invisible to them. 
Many solo poly people, when considering a relationship with a person who is already partnered, find it essential to talk about their expectations and ideas about commitment early on.
Long-distance relationships
When you look around at poly people, you'll see a disproportionate number of long-distance relationships. Often you'll see deeply committed, long-term LDRs—something that's fairly rare among monogamous people.
Monogamy makes assumptions that are poorly suited to distance, and it's difficult to maintain sexual exclusivity for long periods when your partner is far away. But because polyamory doesn't necessarily include expectations that partners will live together, and because it doesn't restrict sex and intimacy to one person, long-distance poly relationships are more feasible. Another reason you see so many is that many poly folks meet online, and because poly people represent a relatively small portion of the population, the selection of local poly partners can be limited. Our relationship with each other is long-distance, and Eve has one other LDR and Franklin, three.
Long-distance relationships exist in a constrained space. Time with a long-distance partner is scarce, meaning it's at a premium whenever the opportunity comes up. But there are many ways to nourish an LDR when the partners are apart; the two of us, for example, spend a lot of time on Skype, and we're both avid texters.
The time when long-distance partners are physically together, surprisingly, can create the most stress. When you have both local and long-distance partners (as both of us do, and all our long-distance partners do), it can be easy to get so caught up in the normal, day-to-day relationship with a local partner that you forget to make space for the distant one. Sometimes literally. A long-distance partner can be a sort of "invisible" person: someone whose needs aren't necessarily obvious. For example, do you leave a place in your home for your long-distance partner to stay on visits? If you have a regular schedule with local partners—every Friday is date night, say—are you flexible enough for a long-distance visitor to interrupt that routine?
Local partners may resent visits that disrupt regular schedules. When your long-distance partner is in town, naturally you want to maximize the time you spend with him. From the perspective of a local partner, the visits can look like all grapes and no cucumbers (a distinction we explain in the next chapter). You may go out to eat more often, take trips, spend more time playing tourist, and do other "fun" things to make the most of the limited time. Your local partner might end up saying, "Hey! When do I get to have that fun?" If your long-distance partner visits for a week and you want to spend every night with him, your local partner might say, "That's not fair! When do I get to spend the night with you?" (The answer, of course, might be "During all the other fifty-one weeks in the year.")
Long-distance relationships concentrate the fun, flashy parts of a relationship, but at the cost of all the small things that build intimacy every day. We know few local partners who would be willing to trade places with a long-distance partner! LDRs also create special concerns around relations between metamours, because visits may not allow much time to build metamour friendships. The partners in the long-distance relationship may need to sacrifice some dyad time to allow for metamours to get to know each other. Metamours, for their part, need to be able to recognize the scarcity of time the long-distance partners have with each other, and realize that it's probably not personal if they don't get as much time as they'd like to get to know the long-distance partner. Because distance makes time such a valuable commodity, flexibility from everyone is vital.
Polyamory with children
Polyamory can be a tremendously positive thing for children. We have both seen or been involved in polyamorous relationships with people who have thriving, happy children. Polyamory potentially means there are more loving adults in the family. It allows children to see more examples of healthy, positive, loving relationships. It exposes children to the idea that love is abundant and can take many forms.
Evidence-based research on long-term outcomes for kids raised in poly families is still scarce. But a fifteen-year longitudinal study by the sociologist Elisabeth Sheff, summarized in her 2013 book, The Polyamorists Next Door (highly recommended reading if you are poly with children), found that the kids from poly homes are often strikingly robust and emotionally healthy—though she admits that her sample has a self-selection bias. Her generally positive conclusions about kids in poly families match observations that are common throughout the self-identified poly community.
Children of poly parents grow up with adults in all kinds of configurations. Many poly parents end up living with a non-parental partner, some of whom have kids of their own. It's quite common to see live-in vees consisting of a couple with children plus another adult partner who often participates in child care and may have a close, stepparent-like relationship with the children. Quads and quints, bigger networks living in a great big house with six or seven kids—it's all been done. Some non-parental partners are more like aunts or uncles, some more like friends of the family who don't have much involvement with their partners' kids. Some (but not many) poly people hide their poly relationships from their children, seeing partners outside the home or treating them as "friends" (we talk more about coming out to children—and coming out with children—in chapter 25).
There is no magic formula for poly parenting, no configuration that will work best for every family. The strongest, healthiest homes for children are those with happy, emotionally healthy adults who model integrity and good communication. The child's needs must be cared for, and the parents absolutely need to be present for and committed to their children, but that does not mean sacrificing their own needs, happiness or interests to every want of the child. Most people seem ready to accept parents' complexities and trade-offs for other things, such as careers—not just when both parents work, but when a parent needs to uproot the family to move cross-country for a career or educational opportunity. It's really not so different for relationships.
If you have children or plan to have them, and you want to open up to polyamory, it's worth taking some time to unpack your ideas about what it means to be a good parent. Our society has long idealized nuclear families, but there are all kinds of families, including plenty of children who grow up without "traditional" nuclear families. A lifelong, live-in romantic dyad is not the only healthy or acceptable way to raise children, and in fact the isolated nuclear family is a historically recent aberration. As a polyamorous person, you might end up creating a beautiful live-in quad or triad with dedicated co-parents, not unlike the way your great-grandparents grew up, surrounded by aunts and uncles. Or you might lose your romantic relationship with your co-parent. You might end up as a single parent or in a platonic co-parenting arrangement with your former partner, or in something that resembles a monogamous blended family (separated parents living with stepparents).
Few things are more controversial among poly people than how polyamorous families with children should behave. Parental shaming is rampant in the wider culture. We are immersed in so many messages about what "good parenting" looks like that by the time we get around to having kids, it can be tough to shake off the guilt no matter what we do. Mom working outside the home? How can you be so selfish? Not working? You'll never afford a safe town with good schools! Don't want to (or can't) breastfeed? You're ruining your child's chance at a future! Oh, my God, is that non-organic baby food? Didn't play her music in the womb? Didn't read to her for an hour a day from birth? There are a million ways for parents to "fail," and parents are measuring themselves and others against every one of them. If we don't get it right, our kids will grow up to be drug addicts, incapable of intimacy, unemployed and homeless, or maybe they'll just miss their chance at that Nobel Prize—and it's all our fault.
Well, polyamorous parents get shamed from all sides, mono and poly. Parent-shaming is the next cultural narrative you have to confront after slut-shaming. Under these circumstances, creating healthy, ethical, egalitarian relationships when you have children can be especially tricky.
Our monogamous friends tell us that when we have kids, we'll settle down—grow out of this whole "poly" thing. Our poly friends tell us that egalitarian poly relationships are impossible with children, because without a hierarchical structure, no one would look after the children's needs. Everyone tells us that good parents always put their kids first. But what that means is very culturally specific. Everyone thinks they know what's best for kids, and damn near everyone is ready with judgment and blame when the parents they know (truthfully: usually the mothers) fail to meet their expectations. Add the fact that poly people are in a PR war in which we're putting our happiest, most stable and photogenic poly families out in front, and that gives poly parents just one more thing to measure up against.
In her 2013 book Lean In, Facebook CEO Sheryl Sandberg discusses parental shaming, unrealistic expectations of mothers, and research concerning child care responsibilities and child well-being. The research she cites shows that stay-at-home parenting is not the only healthy way, or even the best way, to raise children. Some data even suggest that kids do better without parents who are dedicated to filling their every need 24/7. Very young children, of course, may need 24/7 caregivers, but these do not have to be parents. In fact, children benefit from being able to attach to adults other than their parents (often grandparents, aunts, uncles or a close friend of the family), and they often benefit from group settings such as day care. As Sandberg says, "Guilt management can be just as important as time management for mothers."
Are you okay with the idea of raising your kids in a family that doesn't meet the societal script of a romantic dyad? Do you believe you can still do right by your kids if you end up raising them in a home with one or three or more parents—something that looks different from what you expected? Or will you feel you have "failed" your children? If you are going to live in fear every time your partner is away with another partner because you believe that if you can't maintain a "primary" romantic dyad you'll somehow be harming your children, then you might want to reconsider whether this is the best time for you to make the leap into polyamory.
Children certainly do complicate time management. Young children especially require huge time commitments from parents. It's essential to be realistic about how much time you have available to invest in romantic relationships, including with your co-parent, and whether that time is enough to allow you to treat another partner well—especially if a relationship becomes serious. (And making a rule that a relationship can't become serious will likely lead to problems, as we discuss in chapters 10 and 11, on rules and hierarchies.) If you or your co-parent are extremely fearful of the loss of time for your children that another relationship might represent, again it is worth considering whether polyamory is a good choice for you at this stage in life.
One final thing to consider is the situation of new parents. Many thoughtful people try to space out new relationships, allowing time for each to become secure and established and aiming to understand the impact it will have on their lives, before being open to another one. A new baby is also a new relationship. And given the emotional upheaval, life changes and sleep deprivation that come with having a new baby, this is an especially good time to be cautious when deciding whether you are available for new connections. In fact, many established relationships, both mono and poly, end due to the stress brought on by the birth of a child. Remember: Whatever your reasons, if the circumstances of your life do not allow you to treat multiple partners ethically, then it is not ethical to seek them. Many people say that a new baby makes it hard or impossible for them to treat new partners with compassion. If that's the case for you, it's not a good time to start new relationships.
What about marriage?
Poly relationships may be live-in or separate, local or long-distance, sexual or nonsexual, entwined for life or autonomous, open or closed, shared or networked or entirely independent. Given that, some people ask, "Why would a polyamorous person even bother to get married?" But many people are polyamorous and married, for all sorts of reasons.
Eve and Peter have been married for four years, together for more than fourteen. On their wedding day, they had been living polyamorously for two years. His two other partners—and their partners—attended the wedding. On the whole, it's not Eve's monogamous friends who are puzzled by her marriage; it's her poly friends. "Why get married if you're not going to spend your life with one person? Isn't marriage a remnant of couple privilege or an archaic approach to relationships? Isn't it about ownership?"
Eve's Story When we decided to get married, Peter and I had been together for about nine years. My relationship with Ray had forced a major re-evaluation of my life with Peter, and in the course of that, we came to the realization that the future we were building together was lifelong, and we wanted it to stay that way. And watching Peter's father take care of my mother-in-law, severely disabled from a recent stroke, drove home the importance of having people in your life who are deeply committed to you, people you know you can always rely on no matter what.
We were married a year later. These were the vows we spoke:
In the presence of the Light and in the love of family and friends I take thee to be my beloved, promising to be a loving and faithful partner. I ask you to be none other than yourself. I promise to cherish and delight in your spirit and individuality, to face life's challenges with patience and humor, to celebrate our differences, and to nurture our growth. I make this commitment in love, keep it in faith, live it in hope, and make it eternally new.
So if we aren't monogamous, and we aren't sexual, what does it mean for me to be married to Peter? It means I've tied my life to his. It's not just financial, though that's a big part of it: we are creating one financial future together, built on pooled resources that we share equally. We also know that we'll always be there for each other, and that our lives are tied in parallel if not identical trajectories. Whatever happens to one of us, the other is in it with them. Each of us will take care of the other if they can't take care of themselves. In making our choices, we have to take the other person into account—even if we don't always put their needs first. And each of us has a responsibility to the other to help them reach their full potential, realize their dreams, through support and even a little pushing when needed. We don't share one life, but the path of my life proceeds in cycles that are tied to the cycles of Peter's, and his to mine. And whatever we might have to face in our lives, we have someone to face it with.
Plenty of polyamorous people choose to marry, though their marriages lack the pledge of sexual exclusivity that is a hallmark of traditional marriages. They do so for the same reasons monogamous people get married: for someone to build a life with, to build wealth with, to raise children with, to grow old with. Polyamory does offer a great deal more flexibility in how you structure a marriage, what elements you make a part of it. For example, it need not include sex or children, shared finances, or even living together. A marriage is a commitment between two—or in the case of poly sometimes more than two—people. What that commitment includes is up to them.
Franklin's Story A few years after I moved to Portland, Vera and I had a commitment ceremony attended by fifty or sixty of our friends and family. Vera is already legally married to her husband, Charles, who attended the ceremony. During our ceremony, I exchanged rings with Vera, to symbolize the shared life we were building together.
I exchanged rings with Amber when she moved away to attend grad school. The rings were symbols of the fact that we have committed to being one another's family, however far apart we may be and whatever our relationship may look like. So I now wear two wedding rings.
Vera and I wanted a formal commitment ceremony because we had been living together for some time and wanted to recognize the life we were building together. We called our ceremony a "complicity," because it was a pledge from each of us to be complicit in one another's lives—to adventure together, plan together, jointly aid one another and encourage each other in our endeavors. (The name "complicity" was chosen as a playful suggestion that we work together to achieve dubious deeds.)
The recognition of our community is an important part of why we chose to have a commitment ceremony. Just as in traditional relationships, we in poly relationships value recognition of our partnerships, and for many of the same reasons.
When I had been married previously, Celeste identified as monogamous; for eighteen years we were in a mono/poly relationship—a relationship between a polyamorous person and a monogamous person. An important distinction between my relationships with Amber and Vera and my marriage with Celeste is that the solemnizing of my relationships with Amber and Vera in no way serves to place these relationships ahead of any other. Celeste had wanted a partnership in which her needs always superseded those of others, something that ultimately contributed to its end. I am open to commitment ceremonies, possibly including legal marriage, with other partners, without having these commitments impose obstacles or limits on any other relationships I have or may start.
A marriage is also, often, a public celebration of the commitment. People who have been in a relationship for a long time and are making a serious commitment to each other often want to share their joy in that commitment and declare it to the world, which is another great reason why many poly people do choose to marry.
Questions to Ask Yourself
Building poly relationships means carefully assessing how we define our commitments and expectations, how we think about partnership, and how we think about the paths our relationships should take. These kinds of relationships also require us to build our commitments with an eye toward making space available for future partners. Here are some questions that can help:
- What are my existing commitments? How much time do they leave for new partners?
- When am I open to taking new partners?
- What assumptions do I make about commitments in my relationships?
- What do I need from my relationships? How often do I re-evaluate my needs?
- How do I define "commitment"? Do my definitions leave room for nontraditional commitments and nontraditional relationship trajectories?
- How do I leave space for new people to come into my life?
If you have children, or are thinking of having them, here are some additional questions worth considering:
- When I think about family structures that are healthy for children, what features do they all have in common?
- How can I and the other adults in my life contribute to an environment that is safe and nurturing for children?
- Do I trust my partners and their partners to be supportive of my responsibilities to my children, and do I have confidence in my ability to select supportive partners?