The questions always catch me off guard, even when I’ve given my carefully prepared answer numerous times. “Are you married?” “Where do you two live?”. I decided long ago I would not censor myself (a privilege!), but telling the truth is both thrilling and exhausting.
Depending on who I'm talking to, I might keep it brief or dive deeper. But inevitably, explaining we are non-monogamous and have no plans to cohabitate after a decade together only brings up more questions. And while part of me relishes the opportunity to educate, to challenge norms, to showcase a different way of loving, another part of me feels the weight of responsibility.
There's a pressure, self-imposed maybe, to be the perfect poster child for ethical non-monogamy. To present a flawless example of how this lifestyle can work. But the truth is messier, more complicated, and very, very human. Monogamous relationships can fail, and people won’t claim it’s because monogamy never works but when a polyamorous relationship fails people often claim it’s a failing of the relationship format.
Fuck being so careful though. Here I want to use this space to say I'm learning as I go, making mistakes sometimes, but also celebrating small wins other times (hello Chinese Dinner♥). My more recent shift is going from non-monogamous to polyamorous, which is a significant difference. Non-monogamy is an umbrella term for any relationship style that isn't strictly monogamous (open relationships, swinging, and polyamory are examples of non-monogamy), while polyamory specifically involves deeper emotional connections and commitments.
I have what I call an "anchor partner" - someone I dedicate a significant portion of my time and emotions to. I used to use the term "primary partner," but I've shifted away from that language. Why? It's part of this inner work I’m doing to move from a hierarchical mindset to a more egalitarian one.
If you've read previous Ask a Hedonist posts, you might have read my essays on loyalty, marriage as an outdated institution, jealousy, and societal judgment in non-monogamy. If you haven't, I'd recommend checking those out first, as they lay the groundwork for what we're getting into today. Consider this Polyamory 2.0.
The difference between naturally gravitating towards certain partners and imposing a rigid hierarchy is subtle but profound. It's the difference between letting a garden grow wild and beautiful, and meticulously pruning each plant to fit a preconceived notion of what a garden should be. This distinction lies at the heart of the debate between hierarchical and egalitarian polyamory, a debate that has become central to my own journey, and I’m still in the middle of it, so it’s scary to put all of this on the record. But anything for you, my readers.
How it started...
My relationship with my current anchor partner is not my first, but it’s been my longest one. When we met nearly a decade ago, we approached it with a decidedly hierarchical mindset, which comes from a very monogamous framework. Could you really blame us? Everything we knew about relationships was steeped in monogamous ideals. We thought that not only did we need to establish clear boundaries, we also thought we had to set rules, and make sure everyone knew where they stood in the pecking order of our affections.
I held onto certain "truths" about relationships and love I had been told, like "If you truly loved someone, you will be satisfied and won't want anyone else." This is an idea that ties into the one true soulmate ideal, one I don’t believe in at all. Movies, books, our parents, our friends -- all reinforce this idea that true love means complete devotion to one person, and one person only.
Imagine if we applied this logic to friendships. Would we say, "If you truly value your best friend, you won't need or want any other friends"? We wouldn't’. We understand that having multiple friends doesn't diminish our love for any one friend. The same principle applies to romantic relationships in polyamory.
Having a hierarchical approach felt comfortable for a while. In a world that's overwhelmingly mononormative, having a clear structure felt safe.
I've come to realize that hierarchy in relationships is ultimately about control. But control is antithetical to the ethos of polyamory, which is all about giving people freedom to explore connections and let relationships develop naturally.
How it’s going...
The refrain "If you truly love someone, you won't want anyone else" kind of messed me up for a while when I was younger. These ideas can really get so ingrained in our psyche.
As I’ve written before, I started questioning this belief in my teens and early twenties. I knew I loved my boyfriend at the time intensely, but I also found myself developing feelings for others. It created this cognitive dissonance that was hard to reconcile at first. How could I love my partner and still want to pursue connections with others?
This struggle reminded me of my early experiences with jealousy. Back in my first relationship as a teenager, jealousy consumed me. I was constantly imagining scenarios where my boyfriend might leave me for someone else. I tried so hard to be the "cool girlfriend" who didn't get jealous, but inside, I was a mess.
It took me years to realize that these feelings of jealousy, much like the belief that love equals exclusivity, were rooted in societal programming and personal insecurities. Just as I learned to see jealousy as a signal of unmet needs rather than a reflection of my partner's actions, I began to understand that loving multiple people didn't diminish my love for any one person.
From Hierarchy to Egalitarianism
As I continued on this path, I started to see the limitations and potential harm of hierarchical structures in polyamory. I do still spend more time with my anchor partner than with others, but I've been challenging myself to avoid putting predetermined rules or boundaries on our relationships.
Let me give you an example. At the beginning of our relationship, my anchor partner and I tried to limit the emotional depth either of us could have with other partners. We thought this was a reasonable boundary that would protect our relationship.
We’ve come to realize that not only is it impossible to control or limit emotions, but we also asked ourselves what we were even afraid of. What were we trying to protect by creating this boundary?
The thought of my partner falling in love with someone else brought up all sorts of anxieties. And truthfully I still grapple with some of these anxieties. But I've learned that acknowledging these fears is more productive than trying to control them through rules and hierarchies.
The Futility of Emotional Limits
This realization about the futility of trying to limit emotions was a big turning point for us. We recognized that emotions can't be controlled or limited by sheer force of will or by setting rules. More importantly, we started to question why we felt the need to protect ourselves from our partner's other connections.
As we had these honest conversations, we realized that our fears were rooted in scarcity thinking - the idea that love is a finite resource, and if our partner loved someone else, there would be less love for us. But that's not how love works. Love isn't pie. Giving a slice to someone else doesn't mean there's less for you.
We also came to understand that deeper connections with others don't inherently threaten existing relationships. In fact, they can often enhance them, something we genuinely believe and have experienced time and again in our relationship. When my partner connects deeply with someone else, they often bring new energy, ideas, and perspectives back to our relationship.
Embracing Autonomy
Another important step in our journey was embracing the concept of individual autonomy in relationships. We realized that we can't and shouldn't control our partners' other relationships. Each relationship is unique and should be allowed to develop on its own terms.
This belief in individual autonomy is at the core of egalitarian polyamory, and it directly conflicts with hierarchical structures. When you have a hierarchy, you're essentially saying, "These are the rules for your other relationships, regardless of what you or your other partners might want." But who are we to dictate the terms of a relationship we're not even a part of?
Take the concept of veto power, for example. This is when couples in hierarchical arrangements give each other the right to "veto" or end each other's other relationships. From a monogamous lens, this might not seem like a big deal. It’s a natural impulse to want to protect your core relationship.
But you have to consider the perspective of other partners. They're real people with real feelings, who might be deeply invested in the relationship. To have that relationship ended not because of any issues within it, but because a third party decided it was threatening. It’s hurtful and also unethical.
Arriving at Egalitarian Polyamory
What is egalitarian polyamory? It's an approach to polyamory that treats all relationships as equally valid and important. This doesn’t mean equal time spent on each relationship. It means there’s no predetermined hierarchy, no "primary" and "secondary" partners. Each relationship is allowed to find its own level based on the needs, desires, and compatibility of the people involved, organically.
I'll be the first to admit that this approach comes with its own set of challenges. When you're treating all relationships as equally valid, you have to navigate complex emotions, time management issues, and the expectations of multiple partners. It requires a level of emotional maturity and communication that honestly makes my head hurt.
But I’m telling you the rewards are worth it. By allowing each relationship to develop organically, without the constraints of predetermined rules or hierarchies, you open yourself up to deeper connections and more authentic relationships. I’m already sensing potential pushback at this notion, but consider how you approach friendships, and how you spend more time with some friends than others, but the friends you spend less time with are not inherently less important to you than the friends you see all the time. Right?
One of the most beautiful aspects of egalitarian polyamory, in my experience, is how it aligns with personal values of freedom and autonomy. It's about trusting your partners to make decisions that are right for them, and trusting yourself to communicate your needs effectively.
However, I want to acknowledge that there are criticisms of this approach too. Some people argue that egalitarian polyamory is unrealistic, that it doesn't account for the natural differences in connection and commitment that develop over time. I think they're not entirely wrong.
The reality is that even in egalitarian polyamory, some relationships will naturally become more central to your life than others. The key difference is that these deeper connections develop organically, rather than being dictated by predetermined rules.
There are also some folks in the poly community who take a militant stance on egalitarian polyamory, vilifying anyone who practices any form of hierarchical polyamory. I think this stance lacks nuance and fails to consider individual circumstances, and it doesn’t leave any room for people like myself, who are trying to get to a more egalitarian place at their own pace. Some people choose to enter hierarchical relationships as “secondaries” on their own accord for various reasons - maybe they don't have the emotional or time bandwidth for multiple deep relationships, for example. As long as everyone is fully informed and consenting, I don't think we should judge these choices.
Practical Considerations
While the principles of egalitarian polyamory sound great in theory, putting them into practice can be super complicated. Time and resource constraints are very real things (I’ve been asked to write about time management, which I will in the near future). There's a cliched joke in the community about gcal and how scheduling is more complex than navigating emotions in polyamory. Some days it really feels that way.
There's only so much time in a week, and only so much emotional energy one person can expend. So how do you balance multiple relationships ethically when you can't literally split yourself in half (or thirds, or quarters...)?
The key, I've found, is in distinguishing between practical prioritization and imposed hierarchy. It's okay to acknowledge that you have limited time and energy. It's okay to be honest about the fact that you might see one partner more often than another due to practical considerations like geographic proximity or compatible schedules.
What's important is that these practical considerations don't translate into rules that limit the growth of other relationships.
Strategies I've found helpful in navigating this include:
Open and honest communication about time constraints and emotional bandwidth
Flexible scheduling that allows for spontaneity and changing needs
Regular check-ins with all partners to ensure everyone feels heard and valued
Being clear about what I can and cannot offer in each relationship
Remember in my jealousy post when I wrote about how my partner was spending hours on the phone with a new partner? That was a perfect example of navigating these practical considerations. Instead of demanding he spend less time on the phone with her (which would have been imposing a hierarchy), I communicated my need for more focused attention when we were together.
He’s a great listener, and made an effort to express his enthusiasm for me more explicitly, which gave me the reassurance and closeness I was craving. This solution addressed my needs without limiting his other relationship.
Lessons for Monogamous Relationships
I’m always so careful to reiterate that I’m not trying to claim polyamory is superior to monogamy. I’m using this space to normalize and celebrate alternative relationship formats. I think principles of non-monogamy, and more specifically, egalitarian polyamory can benefit monogamous couples too though.
Putting it more simply, egalitarian polyamory is about respecting your partner's autonomy, communicating openly and honestly, and challenging assumptions about what relationships "should" look like. These are valuable skills in any relationship style.
The emphasis on clear communication in polyamory can be a game-changer for monogamous couples. How many relationship issues stem from unexpressed expectations or unspoken resentments? We hear about it all the time. Learning to articulate your needs and listen to your partner's needs without judgment is a skill that enhances any relationship.
Similarly, the idea of compersion - feeling joy for your partner's happiness, even when it doesn't directly involve you - can be powerful in monogamous relationships too. Imagine being genuinely happy when your partner gets to spend time with their friends, pursue a hobby you're not interested in, or achieve a personal goal. That's compersion, and it can lead to a much healthier, more supportive relationship dynamic.
The process of examining and challenging our assumptions about love and relationships, which is so central to the journey from hierarchical to egalitarian polyamory, can be so valuable for monogamous couples too. Why do we believe what we believe about relationships? Are these beliefs serving us, or are they holding us back? These are questions worth exploring, regardless of your relationship style. Don’t always follow the scripts society has written for us!
Reflections
This was yet another daunting post to write, both because it’s such a complicated topic and also because I am in the midst of working through these ideas and applications in my own life.
I'm examining deeply held beliefs about love, jealousy, and what it means to be in a relationship. I've had to face my insecurities and learn to communicate in ways with different partners I never had before. In the process I've discovered new depths to my capacity for love and connection.
I’m still at the beginning of this exercise. I'm constantly learning and challenging myself to be more open, more honest, more authentic in my relationships.
There isn’t a "right" way to do relationships. What matters is that you're honest with yourself and your partner(s) about what you want and need. If you find yourself grappling with jealousy, remember - it's not the enemy. It's just a signal, pointing you towards unmet needs or insecurities. Listen to it, learn from it, but don't let it control you or your relationships. As always, I’d really appreciate your thoughts in the comments, or if we know each other, text me!