#22: Downgrading my relationship upgraded my happiness
On de-escalating in non-monogamy
The night I realized I needed to de-escalate my relationship with Morgan, I was standing on the roof of my building, a half-empty wine glass dangling from my fingers like a sad little pendulum of poor life choices. The city's soundscape of honking horns and shouting people created a backdrop that felt appropriate for my existential crisis du jour.
"I love you," Morgan had said, "But I feel like I'm always competing with Louis, and that's too much for me."
As we stood there, watching the sky darken to match my mood, I had a thought that would reshape my understanding of relationships: What if ending this version of our relationship didn't mean ending the relationship altogether?
This is how I came to really understand the concept of de-escalation. For years, I've been practicing consensual non-monogamy, challenging what I call the "relationship escalator" model. The escalator is essentially this - you date, you define the relationship, you move in together, marry, have kids, and then happily ever after. It's a storyline we've been sold since we were kids. But for many of us who have the freedom to define our futures, that escalator feels claustrophobic, taking you to a floor you're not sure you want to visit.
I've written about this before, how we're "conditioned to understand relationships that follow a hetero-normative escalator model." But until that night on the roof, I didn't have a term for the opposite process - the conscious choice to change a relationship's nature by dialing down the commitment or intimacy while maintaining a positive connection.
It was Esther Perel's podcast that really drove it home for me. In an episode of "Arc of Love," she interviewed a divorced couple who had mastered the art of de-escalation before I even knew what to call it. These two divorce lawyers had ended their marriage but maintained a relationship that allowed them both to thrive in ways their marriage never did.
Their story really stayed with me and prompted me to write this post. During their marriage, they found themselves trapped in roles that left them both feeling stifled and resentful. He felt a pressure to perform the traditional gender role as the man of the house and be the main financial provider, and buckled under this self-imposed pressure. The mere thought of having a second child - something she deeply wanted - filled him with anxiety. Meanwhile, she felt obligated to play the role of "good wife," suppressing her desire for solo travel because that's not what wives do, or so she assumed. They were like two people trying to perform in a play they never auditioned for, reciting lines that felt increasingly hollow.
What’s interesting about their relationship is that while they did go through with a divorce, instead of cutting each other off, they essentially chose to de-escalate. They ended their marriage but maintained a close, supportive relationship. And in doing so, they found the freedom to become the people they always wanted to be.
Post-de-escalation, she started taking solo trips without asking for permission or feeling guilty. He felt the pressure of being the sole provider lift from his shoulders. They still co-parent, still vacation together with their child, still support each other daily. But now, it's on their terms.
Esther Perel calls this "Marriage 2.0," which feels apt. They kept all the good parts of their relationship and ditched the parts that were holding them back. In the interview they explain that neither of them are dating other people, they're in each other's lives almost daily, but without the suffocating expectations that came with their traditional marriage. I’ll admit my inclination was to feel sad for them, but they explain that this current relationship format allows them to live their lives more authentically.
You might be thinking de-escalation is just a preamble to an inevitable breakup. But I really believe it’s more about preserving what's valuable in a relationship while acknowledging that sometimes circumstances change. You can Marie Kondo your relationship: keep what sparks joy, thank the rest for its service, and move on.
I’ve de-escalated quite often in my relationships. One thread began to unravel when my partner Louis and I dated a couple who would reshape our understanding of relationship dynamics. Let's call them Aisha and Mateo.
Louis and I have been non-monogamous for years. When we met Aisha and Mateo, the chemistry was electric, conversation flowed easily, and for a while, it seemed we were headed for a quad relationship - a polycule, in poly parlance.
But as time passed, the spark faded unevenly. I found myself less and less enthused about our group dates. In a monogamous world, this might have led to a messy breakup, complete with divided friend groups and awkward run-ins at Bushwick* bars. Instead, we chose to de-escalate.
Aisha and Mateo are now close friends. We've celebrated family birthdays together, shared countless meals, created new memories. Just last month, we were front row at Aisha's drag debut, cheering louder than anyone. The romantic relationship didn't work, but de-escalation preserved and strengthened a beautiful friendship.
This pattern repeated itself with Louis's relationship with Kai, his longtime lover and skydiving partner. Their connection was deep, passionate, one that I'll admit made me feel threatened at times. I'd even had my own brief fling with Kai, which added another layer of complexity to our dynamic.
But life threw a curveball. Kai got engaged, moved out of state, and became pregnant. Suddenly, Louis and Kai's hot and heavy streak came to a screeching halt. But instead of a dramatic ending, they chose a quiet de-escalation.
Kai and Louis still talk, and when they visit they might meet for dinner or a coffee. It's not the same, but there's a warmth there, a connection that persists despite the changed circumstances. It's a testament to the power of de-escalation - the ability to preserve the essence of a connection even as its form changes.
And then there's Morgan. Our de-escalation was perhaps the most challenging, the most personal. We went from a deeply intertwined romantic relationship to a more casual, friendship-based connection. It was a change, but not an ending. We still care for each other deeply, still support each other's growth and happiness. It's just packaged differently now. We’re still creating a new path, one that feels truer to who we are and what we need.
De-escalation isn't just for those of us in non-monogamous relationships. It's a tool that can be used in any relationship, romantic or otherwise. It's about recognizing that relationships are dynamic, ever-changing things. It's about having the courage to say, "This isn't working as it is, but I still value you and want you in my life."
I think about how, after years of tension with my dad, our relationship became a minefield of ticking time bombs. My choice of partner, my lack of a graduate degree, whether I care for my sister with special needs enough - each topic was a potential explosion waiting to happen. Our weekly dinners had devolved into passive-aggressive comment competitions, with the constant threat of a full-blown argument hanging over us. It was exhausting, draining, and frankly, toxic. So we de-escalated. Now, we only meet for larger family dinners, where the presence of others acts as a buffer. Our one-on-one communication is limited to texts about safe topics like the stock market, with clear, unspoken boundaries about what's off-limits. It’s imperfect, and there's a sadness to it, a sense of loss for the relationship we could have had. But it's better. It's a de-escalation that has allowed us to maintain some semblance of a connection while protecting my mental health. In this case, de-escalation wasn't just about changing the nature of our relationship; it was about defusing those bombs before they could detonate and cause irreparable damage.
Or consider my colleague Mike, who de-escalated his role at the company after realizing management was overwhelming and that he was better suited as an individual contributor. He went from monitoring his team’s metrics and filling his days with 1:1s to killing it on the sales leaderboards and making way more money in the process as an individual contributor rather than as a manager. It felt like a professional regression at first, but ultimately made him feel like a better version of himself.
In a world that often tells us relationships should follow a predefined path, de-escalation offers the freedom to create our own paths. It allows us to write our own stories, to define our relationships on our own terms. It's a radical act of self-determination in a culture that still clings to outdated notions of what relationships should look like.
Of course, de-escalation isn't always easy. It requires honest communication, emotional maturity, and a willingness to step into the unknown. It can be scary to change the nature of a relationship, especially one that's been significant in your life. There's no roadmap.
But in my experience, the rewards are worth it. De-escalation has allowed me to maintain connections with people who might otherwise have drifted away entirely. It's taught me to be more flexible in my expectations, more open in my communication, and more accepting of change.
It's also taught me that love isn't a finite resource to be hoarded. By de-escalating some relationships, I've created space for new connections to form and existing ones to deepen. It's like pruning a plant - sometimes you need to cut back to allow for new growth.
I often hear from skeptics of non-monogamy that how could anyone have the time or energy to juggle multiple full-time relationships. I actually agree that this is extremely challenging with the limited time I have, but I'll say it's more about having the freedom to shape my connections authentically and being able to de-escalate certainly helps with that.
When we stop seeing relationships as fixed, immutable things, we open up so many possibilities. when we explicitly state our needs and negotiate the terms of our relationships, we can create space for everyone involved to live in a way that feels better. Maybe that means weekly date nights with one partner and monthly check-ins with another. Perhaps it's a passionate long-distance connection balanced with a comfortable domestic partnership.
This approach isn't about having more relationships - it's about having better ones. When people don't feel stuck or stagnant, when they have the freedom to express their needs and desires openly, relationships tend to flourish.
So the next time you find yourself at a relationship crossroads, consider the possibilities beyond the traditional escalator model. Whether it's de-escalation, non-monogamy, or simply a frank conversation about needs and expectations, remember: relationships are not one-size-fits-all.
In practice, de-escalation is less about grand gestures and more about small, intentional shifts. It's in the quiet moments - the follow up text about something really specific, making someone feel deeply seen, the mutual understanding that sometimes, less really is more. These are the little moments that that evolve a relationship.
De-escalation isn't a panacea, nor is it for everyone. But for those willing to challenge conventional wisdom, it offers a path to relationships that are more honest, more flexible, and ultimately, more human. In a world that often equates more with better, there's a certain revolutionary act in saying, "This is enough. This is good." And sometimes, that's all the upgrade we need.
*the joke is that bushwick is full of poly people, duh.
Y'all, I'm squeezing this out with about 2 hours left in September because apparently, I love living on the edge (of deadlines). I promised twice-a-month posts and I keep my word. These essays take forever to write. Special thanks to my paid subscribers. Your support keeps me caffeinated and motivated to bare my soul on the regular. Thanks for sticking around while I fumble through feelings and relationships in public. Cheers to barely making it and to oversharing for the foreseeable future. Give this post a ‘like’ so it can reach more people interested in this topic, ty!!
P.S. There’s a mixer for non-monogamous folks in Brooklyn this Thursday. I've lost count of how many of you have said you’d love to go to one of these with me, so if you’re reading this here's your chance to put your money where your curiosity is.
