Many people have been shocked by the intensity and longevity of the pain caused by the demise of their polyamorous relationship. Many confess that they expected it to be easier, rather than harder, than a monogamous breakup.
Karen says, “I could not believe that I fell into a practically comatose state and wanted to die after Jerome left me! I was outraged because his wife was so paranoid she thought I was trying to replace her. I was in love with him, but I kept reassuring her that I already have a husband, I’m not trying to take yours. Jerome couldn’t handle the poly drama and broke things off with me, and I thought it would not be this bad. My husband, Alan, was very supportive, as he had been through a few rough poly breakups with girlfriends. We had been through a lot together because my husband is transgender and I was with him during that transition, every step of the way, from Alice to Alan. But I was so depressed, and pining for Jerome, and felt so betrayed by him for abandoning me. I understood that he felt he had to choose his marriage over me. But I was also furious at him, because it was totally unnecessary for him to end our relationship—it was never a threat to his marriage. The unfairness and stupidity of that made me so mad at him, and at her, too!”
Karen and Alan attended a support group for couples in open relationships, and many of these couples described similar feelings and experiences. Karen was relieved to hear one man say, “I thought a poly breakup would be a piece of cake, because I still have a wife who loves me and will be there for me. When I went through a divorce in a monogamous relationship, suddenly I was single, facing an empty dinner table every night, and sleeping alone for the first time in 10 years. With this poly breakup, I was so, so sad for months, and could barely function at work. I could barely talk to my wife, Joni, without remembering Sarah and knowing I would never see her again. It just didn’t make sense, but being with Joni just seemed to make the longing for Sarah worse, and I felt so guilty about that. It took six months for me to really be able to be fully present with Joni, and be a normal husband again, instead of an embarrassing sad sack who was an emotional wreck who starts crying during sex.” Karen says, “This made me realize that I was not crazy to be in such a pit of despair over losing Jerome, and I felt less guilty about not being 100% present for Alan right away.”
One of the reasons for this reaction is that when you experience the ending of a monogamous relationship, you become single and have the solitude and space to grieve the loss of your beloved. Addie puts it this way, “You can cry and retreat, pull the curtains and hide out in your apartment, and lick your wounds. You have the privacy to spend your time obsessing about your ex, navel-gazing, and speculating about why this relationship didn’t work out. And if you’re still talking to your ex, you can spend hours processing endlessly with them about the relationship and its demise. You can be furious with your ex-partner and talk to all your friends about what a jerk they are and how mistreated your feel.”
If you are poly, when one relationship ends, you probably don’t have the option of just falling apart. Usually, there is at least one surviving relationship that needs care and feeding. Through my counseling practice, as well as in interviews with polyamorous people, I found that there are four key survival skills needed to get through a poly breakup: self-care, grieving your losses and understanding any lessons that can be learned from this situation, sustaining your other relationships, and handling the public relations. The next four chapters outline each of these skills and attempt to provide a guide to eventual recovery.