A version of this piece was first published in print, in #3 of mous. magazine, available for purchase here.

By many accounts I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life. Small town. Nuclear family. I’ve made out with a couple of other girls. I have a few LGBTQIA friends. I’ve done some low-key drugs and some low-key travel. Pretty standard stuff for a lot of 30 something Australians. Based on this kind of upbringing, and the assumptions I made with it, the idea of a monogamous relationship and two people working it out together over a lifetime was never challenged in my mind. Monogamy was what I saw all around me, I assumed it for my future, I didn’t know any non-monogamous people and, more than anything, the idea more than a little confused me. Like how did it work?

Fast forward to 2015 when I staying in New York City for a month, and it seemed as if every fourth person I met was in an open relationship (yeah I know, so cliché to come to New York and discover open relationships were a real thing. Please refer to opening lines where I very clearly identify as basic). I’m not talking the early stages of a relationship where you still see other people or aren’t ready to commit yet. These people were in long term relationships, some of them living together, and still making their own and their outside relationships work. I went on a few dates with one guy in an open relationship, and to be honest, it was one of the best dating experiences I’ve had. There was no pressure, and we have ended up becoming pretty decent friends – which I put down to the ease and honesty of our interactions in the beginning. 

The idea of non-monogamy continues to interest me, even if it still confuses me. I sought out a couple of people to chat to about their experiences with non-monogamy.  There are so many layers and elements that go into these ways of being and it feels like connection is at the heart of it. Zola, 40, living in Berlin, believes, that for them, a romantic relationship is based on their desire to get to know an individual, which may arise at any time whether they currently have a romantic connection or not. 

“My attraction to another individual does not shut on and off like a switch, because it is not superficial. Romance is something that usually creeps up on me based on the growth in my connection and every connection is different for me. I will not limit myself,” Zola says. 
Not limiting oneself. Right, sounds good so far. 

“Being non-monogamous means that I do not possess anyone, and they do not possess me,” Zola goes on to explain. Zola says they have found this to mean that both people are less likely to take each other for granted, which feels like a big plus I’d give to the non-monogamy column (if I had a column and was keeping track with plus and minuses.  Which I’m not. That’s just a word doc on my computer labelled “pros and cons of non-monogamy”, nothing interesting, don’t worry about it OK? OK good, moving on). That element of taking each other for granted in a relationship has always scared me. Will this person one day see me as a given? Will I see them as a given? And if this does happen, does it mean we will make less of an effort to show we care, or will it feel like my favorite spot on the couch – working without working to make me comfortable and safe. Zola says that for them it is less based on rules and expectations, and more about being in the moment and getting to know someone as an ever-evolving person. 

“It also means that I can be honest from the beginning about the fact that I will not prevent myself from making new connections—and neither do I expect them to. If there is a connection felt, then I may explore it by my own free will. I would hope the same for the individual I am connected to,” Zola concludes. 

Arshan, 33, living in New York, agrees it is about the connection, and that it’s not much different from a traditional relationship for him. He believes that any relationship is about connecting with someone on a familiar level and there is honesty involved in that space. To him, an open relationship is one where you care about one person but can still explore different relationships and connections honestly and without pretense.  While he uses the term open relationship to describe his recent experiences, he isn’t really comfortable with labels like that in general. 

“This is tough because it took me a while to even come to terms with the fact that I wanted an open relationship. So I don't think I'd want to apply a label even though it may apply to me if I spoke to a therapist or something. It's hard for me to define them because I can barely come to terms with what polyamorous even means. I mean I get it: one that has love for many. I definitely do, I love everyone, but I am in love with all of these people? I don't know. People are in love all the time. Then they get divorced, or break up, so now they're not in love. For something so important to how we are told to connect with one another it sure is a pretty easy thing to decide you're in, then out of,” he says. 

#letstalkaboutlovebaby

Or rather, let’s talk about these labels of love and how they actually differ. Which, as you might imagine, is very hard to do; people from different countries, with differing upbringings are bound to have divergent expectations and understandings of these love labels.  Many definitions of these labels often come with the caveat: this might not be everyone’s understanding of the term. The website morethantwo.com has a wonderfully long glossary list that provides helpful “definitions” (or as close as they can get) for many love labels. They list open relationships as “[a]ny relationship that is not sexually monogamous [or a]ny relationship that permits ‘outside’ sexual entanglements, but not loving or romantic relationships”.  Polyamory is down as literally meaning (poly) many and (amor) love, the “state or practice of maintaining multiple sexual and/or romantic relationships simultaneously, with the full knowledge and consent of all the people involved”. With a polyamorous person described as “a person who prefers or is open to romantic relationships with more than one partner simultaneously”.

Each definition observes that sometimes people think of polyamory and open relationships as the same, and sometimes the difference lies in the fact that people will not fall in love or engage in romantic relationships outside of the primary couple – in short, I’m beginning to realise I should take care to clarify based on individual situations when using any of these terms as people can attach different meanings to it. Which is why I guess Zola prefers the term non-monogamous, which can house many different definitions and ways of being.  On a related side note, next time you have an hour, make yourself a cup of tea and browse through all the terms listed on morethantwo.com. An afternoon well spent I’d say. 

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. While these descriptions do help to sort the what from the who for those not in the know (read: me), I still prefer Zola’s more eloquent way of describing their relationships; they call them loverships and describes them as people loving on each other. If that doesn’t sound like the most beautiful way of describing a relationship to another human being, then I can’t really help you sorry. Just think about it: people loving on each other. Just heaping your love upon another person and in turn having that love heaped back on you. Sigh.  

But it has been a journey for Zola to make their way to this place of unique description.  Monogamy was something Zola was always told was “right” (same here) and when gay marriage became legal, it was something that naturally became the next step in the monogamous relationship they were in at the time, describing their ex-wife as a big proponent of homo-normativity, even as Zola themselves was realising more and more they weren’t. 

“Right after the official marriage, everything went to shit. We didn't even fuck on our wedding night (she fell asleep). The things we did for each other were more and more out of obligation. Passion turned to smoke, and respect was lost. After 10 years together, we could no longer see each other as individuals. It became a co-dependent nightmare, the Lesbian Bed Death theory became true,” Zola explains. 

Wait hold up. Lesbian Death Bed theory? I mean I can hazard a guess at what this means, but for the sake of my sanity, I had better be thorough. A quick google search tells me it was a term coined in an early ‘80s study that suggests female homosexual relationships are the most likely to suffer from lack of intimacy after marriage. This really surprises me actually, and I can’t pinpoint why. But it isn’t the point of the article, but I digress. Back to Zola and their Lesbian Death Bed theory becoming a living nightmare, but making a mental note to look into this more at a later date. 

“When I left that situation, I decided that I would enjoy my romantic life differently, with more passion and diversity, and with less limitation,” Zola says. Which actually sounds wonderful, and I briefly wonder if it could only be achieved through non-monogamy or if it could be achieved in a monogamous relationship as well. I guess it comes down to the expectations and rules subconsciously in place in a monogamous relationship.

Arshan’s journey to his open relationship happened somewhat the opposite way, with a monogamous relationship that gradually grew to be open. 

“At one point, the relationship ended, but we continued seeing each other because we liked each other's company and we had the same friends. This is super common, happens all the time. Except we decided that it didn't make sense to hide from each other if we were seeing other people. So it sort of grew from there. The conversation was more, ‘let's try this and see what happens.’”

Arshan emphasises the importance of both parties being ready and open to exploring non-monogamy as the key to making it work, that nothing should be forced: “People have asked me how they can get into an open relationship and the only advice I have is to make sure it's something you both want. If either of you is convincing the other to do this then it won't work. It should be something you both want.”

Zola agrees with this too. Both parties really do need to be clear and to want the same thing, otherwise when you have to hide your attraction and pretend your emotions are one-dimensional, anger and resentment can build up. Which can lead to what they see others describe as “cheating”.  

“Being non-monogamous eliminates this. You can be open and honest in ways that can bring you closer together. It works for me because I am not a jealous nor envious person. I have experienced these feelings before in monogamous relationships because of insecurity and relying on one other person for romance and sex alone – and that’s a tall order.”

I admit they’ve probably hit on the one thing that I would struggle with: I am a jealous person. Maybe more than that, I am a prideful person. I feel like my ego wouldn’t be able to cope with knowing my partner was out dating and sleeping with other people – even if I was doing the same thing. When I was planning this article I was talking to the person I was dating at the time about it, and he agreed, the not knowing and the jealousy would ruin any benefits we could see from it. But maybe, exactly as Zola and Arshan say, it’s because we are expecting just one person to meet all our needs. And that really is a huge ask. Maybe too big.