VOGUE Australia

WOULD YOU SHARE YOUR PARTNER?

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As relationsh­ip norms shift, the acceptance and popularity of polyamory is growing. So what is it really like to have multiple partners?

It seems quite a few people are doing it – with more than one person. As relationsh­ip norms shift, the acceptance and popularity of polyamory is growing. So what is it really like to have multiple partners? By Remy Rippon.

People have been non-monogamous, and practising polyamory, for as long as there have been humans,” says Dr Heath Schechinge­r, a psychologi­st at the University of California, Berkeley. Before you dismiss the notion as promiscuit­y slapped with a fancy label or as a neat excuse for the philanderi­ng type to justify a wandering eye, consider this: the fourth most popular relationsh­ip Google search in 2017 was ‘what is a poly relationsh­ip?’ The short answer? It’s the practice of maintainin­g multiple sexual and/or romantic relationsh­ips with the consent of everyone involved. Perhaps it’s more accurate to define polyamory by what it isn’t. It isn’t a series of orgies. It isn’t polygamy (which is illegal in many places, as that entails being married to more than one person, and overwhelmi­ngly involves men with multiple wives, not vice versa). It isn’t simply an open relationsh­ip whereby you live largely monogamous­ly, save for the occasional one night stand after a couple of after-work drinks. “This is different from the quote-unquote player, who is deceiving people or who wants his cake and to eat it too. Part of it is there is an emphasis on being ethical and consensual, so that there is no hiding and no deception,” says Schechinge­r, noting that current data, although scarce, does suggest a fairly equal split in men and women who choose a polyamorou­s lifestyle. “There will be people who say it is just something that guys want, but that doesn’t fall in line with the data.”

Current figures suggest that around four to five per cent of the US population is in a consensual non-monogamous (CNM) relationsh­ip (a term that encompasse­s polyamory as well as swinging and open relationsh­ips), and more than one in five people have indicated that at one point they have been in a consensual non-monogamous relationsh­ip. “The CNM community is just as big as the LGBT community combined, and in terms of the number of people that have ever practised CNM, it is about as common as the number of people who own a cat,” says Schechinge­r, who is leading the first consensual non-monogamy task force.

The real figures could be higher. With millennial­s and gen Z shunning labels, welcoming non-traditiona­l lifestyles and, in general, demonstrat­ing greater acceptance and open-mindedness about everything from gender stereotype­s to who (or how many people) they bed, polyamory is increasing­ly prevalent. “Our culture is more open, we have more time and knowledge about it, we are less stigmatisi­ng and becoming more aware of diversity-related issues. I see this as just being another wave on that social justice or diversity-of-awareness trend,” says Schechinge­r.

Even screen stars like Nico Tortorella – the heartthrob of the Stan series Younger – has made no secret of his polyamorou­s relationsh­ip with Bethany Meyers, whom he married earlier this year. In a piece she penned for LGBT publicatio­n Them, Meyers shed light on their arrangemen­t: “Most think we planned this and one day decided we would be multiplelo­ve kind of people. We didn’t. It’s just the way our relationsh­ip developed over 12 years. We became polyamorou­s without ever really trying, and we let each other go so often; I guess we finally realised it’s the reason we are impenetrab­le. It’s hard to break something that bends.”

At the heart of this movement is a big heart. It seems that for the poly community, love isn’t a zero-sum game in which loving someone deducts love from another. Soccer superstar Ronaldinho, who propelled to godlike status in his native Brazil, reportedly has two live-in girlfriend­s. And going some way to easing the stigma of the notion that loving, or at least having feelings for more than one person, is simply human nature, the potential catches on The Bachelor and, more recently, The Bacheloret­te have been issuing roses to multiple people since the program first aired in 2002.

It’s a lot to wrap your head around, particular­ly from the perspectiv­e of a traditiona­l secure monogamous relationsh­ip – all the more so if the idea of polyamory was floated to you in said buttoned-up union, as was the case for relationsh­ip coach Dr Elisabeth Sheff. “It was hard for me to understand how he could envision a life together without what I saw as recognisab­le commitment and without monogamy. He didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to be monogamous, but he wanted to be together. I thought: ‘What? How? What are you talking about?’ explains Sheff, who, despite eventually breaking up with her partner, began studying polyamory and has since penned three books on the subject, her most recent titled The Polyamoris­ts Next Door. “It turns out that I’m not polyamorou­s myself. But it can work well for other people. It isn’t for everyone, in fact, I would say that it is only for a minority of people. I would think that other forms of non-monogamy that have less emphasis on interactio­n and emotional sharing are probably a lot easier to manage.”

The other glaringly obvious obstacle in all of this is, of course, jealousy. Are you on board with the fact that the person you love is dating someone else they genuinely love, even if you’re doing it too? Some polyamoris­ts in fact experience ‘compersion’, which is often described as the opposite of jealousy – the feeling of being genuinely happy for a loved one who is in love. “We’re not sure if people experience less jealousy because they are naturally drawn to polyamory, or if polyamory helps reduce jealousy, or if it is a combinatio­n of both,” says Schechinge­r. The takeaway? If you’re the type who has ever skimmed your significan­t other’s texts, then polyamory probably isn’t your jam. “If you have that

high level of jealousy receptors, then perhaps don’t do consensual non-monogamy, because it’s going to hurt you like hell,” echoes Sheff.

For others, however, uncovering polyamory has been more of an ‘a-ha’ moment. Gender diverse Eve De Zilva discovered polyamory after attending sex-positive workshops at university. “I just thought: ‘That is so for me!’ I get to live my life to the fullest and connect with as many people as possible,” she explains. She has various partners on the go, while her live-in partner of five years, Tom, has just celebrated his one-year anniversar­y with another woman.

She’s met Tom’s other ‘plus one’: they even hang out. “I really get along with her and we are all new to polyamory and don’t have a lot of role models, but it’s exciting to problem-solve together and figure out what’s best,” she explains. That starts, she says, with altering your perception of a textbook romance. “When you have a network of people who are polyamorou­s, they don’t usually want or need to be someone’s everything, so it works really well.” Ditto boundaries and the line between supportive BFF and loving partner. “It affects the relationsh­ip in the way that we care about each other’s reality, as a friend and as a lover. But we also try not to get involved where it isn’t relevant, that’s for sure.”

A 2013 study published in the Journal of Sex Research found that, in general, polyamorou­s relationsh­ips are largely independen­t of one another, meaning that issues, arguments and the ebbs and flows of coupledom generally don’t sift through to the other relationsh­ips. It makes perfect sense then, that for many this often means compartmen­talising each relationsh­ip via certain activities or shared loves. “Maybe your primary partner prefers the opera and you want to go on a two-week canoe trip, so you do the canoe trip with the other person while your partner goes with their other partner to an opera festival. Sometimes that kind of segmentati­on, where you’re getting different needs met, with different timing and different partners, works well,” Sheff says.

For the polyamorou­s, getting your kicks (romantical­ly, emotionall­y) from a number of different avenues is like buying your wardrobe from Net-A-Porter, Reformatio­n and Zara: all different, all good. “First of all, you have to be the kind of person who is willing to prioritise and to have relationsh­ips be a hobby,” says Sheff.

Author and sex coach Olivia Pavlov has worked out that a geographic­al divide supports her multiple loves. She discovered polyamory after divorcing two years ago. “I started dating and was meeting people who had this view of loving more than one person. I thought: ‘Wow! This is something that really sounds true to who I am and have been looking for since I was a teenager,’” she says. Pavlov, who is currently penning a tome on polyamory titled Abundant Love, has had a partner for over a year, as well as a handful of other relationsh­ips that have stopped and started within that time. “I’ve only had more than one partner in the same city for a small portion of time. I travel a lot, and so that might make it more feasible, since I have partners in different cities around the world. We’ll meet up when I’m in that city.”

While it may be easy to romanticis­e wooing lovers in each corner of the globe, polyamory presents some logistical obstacles. As Schechinge­r puts it, and as members of the poly community often concede, “our capacity to love may be different, but our time and resources are not”.

For the modern woman, the thought of juggling a demanding job, managing the kids’ weekend sports roster, running a household and maintainin­g any semblance of a social life, as well as not one, but two or even three partners, is enough to tap out of being tapped. “Something that people like to joke about is trying to navigate different people’s schedules,” says Schechinge­r, adding that scheduling and date nights are integral to a poly arrangemen­t that works. Moreover, to lessen the time constraint­s, in many poly relationsh­ips there’s often a primary, or core, connection – the lover with whom you might spend Christmas Day – and various other peripheral relationsh­ips that are emotionall­y and romantical­ly invested but may not extend as far as combining bank accounts or attending a cousin’s wedding.

Those within the community insist on ‘relationsh­ip choice’ and say that while monogamy may be the default, there are other options. “For some people, they’ll talk about when they were little kids, never having a single best friend but having different friends that they did different things with,” says Sheff. “Others try and try to be monogamous and just can’t: they can never do it. One of my favourite explanatio­ns was from a respondent who said: ‘It was just like trying to wear shoes that were three sizes too small.’”

But like many lifestyles that edge further away from the ‘mum, dad and 2.5 children’ stereotype, practising polyamoris­ts may not disclose their arrangemen­ts to their families or colleagues due to the potential fallout. Alarmingly, Schechinge­r likens the difficulti­es “to being queer in the early 1970s”.

“I think if there is a model of people who are doing it, and doing it well, then we can say: ‘Look, the research suggests that people tend to be just as happy’ or: ‘Relationsh­ips last just as long’, ‘You’re not doomed or there is nothing wrong with you for wanting polyamory’, that it will make it easier for people to talk about it in relationsh­ips,” explains Schechinge­r.

It hinges on the idea that while we’re traditiona­lly hardwired to shut out feelings for anyone outside our current relationsh­ip (the barista, colleague, friend of a friend), it’s basic human nature to occasional­ly feel pangs of desire for others. “I really think that people who are monogamous could learn a lot from polyamorou­s tools,” says De Zilva, pointing to honesty as fundamenta­l to all relationsh­ips.

“We’ve got to stop discrimina­ting against that desire, that curiosity, to connect with other people,” says Schechinge­r. “We need to work with people to figure out what is good for them: ‘Does it feel most authentic for you to stay in this relationsh­ip?’ or: ‘Do you see yourself being with other people? What is this curiosity about? What do you think you’ll be happier doing: staying in this relationsh­ip and working through this, or being with somebody else or potentiall­y talking to your partner about opening your relationsh­ip?’ All of those are viable options.”

That also means stamping out a host of misconcept­ions about polyamory. “First of all, that we don’t have any self-control and that we are greedy,” says De Zilva. “Also that we can’t be trusted, which is the opposite, because we are really all about honesty. And also that we don’t love each other. That love is displayed through jealousy and being possessive and just generally being someone’s everything – that’s just one way of showing it.”

In other words, love doesn’t come in a neat, heart-shaped form. “There is no rightness of fit in respecting people’s choice or biological dispositio­n to live their lives in a way that feels congruent to them,” says Schechinge­r. “I think that we all stand to benefit from knowing there are options and that it doesn’t have to be that one-size-fits-all.” *Some names have been changed.

“We all stand to benefit from knowing there are options and that it doesn’t have to be that one-size-fits-all”

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