Scoop The Dirt

“A She-Savior” by Mikhail Armalinsky

An article in defense of the prostitute. One of my favorite lines: “Well, I would compare prostitution to a palace. If it wasn’t there, all you would see were the gray shacks of monogamy.”

http://www.mipco.com/english/SheSavior.html

The Difference (As I See It Right Now)

Safety is not the correct word. Maybe security? Maybe it is simply comfort…although that does not seem to have the correct connotation. The word I am trying to get at is the main difference I feel right now in my relationships versus previous monogamous relationships that I have had. But I can’t seem to find the right fit.

When I first considered this idea, I couldn’t help but automatically begin my defense for saying that I, “Felt less safe (or less security, or less comfortable…) in non-monogamous relationships.” Saying something as dramatic as that would provide perfect ammunition for anyone who wants to poke holes in my argument for non-monogamy. I have realized that my argument for non-monogamy is just that: my argument. I will continue to defend, but I am getting tired of it. So I would rather just provide perspective.

I have come to find that many people strive for the security they feel when they have one person on which they rely. Sexual comfort epitomizes this reliance. For example, my brother recently broke up with his girlfriend. We have had many discussions about what he will miss specifically about the relationship, but he noted that one of his biggest issues with finding a new relationship is getting to know another person sexually. It takes effort to learn a person. I guess he and I differ in that I still enjoy the process of getting-to-know. In fact, I love getting to know people in all ways—I thrive on various relationships. And if I get too safe, too secure, too comfortable, it is too easy for me to slip into my own personal hell of stagnancy.

In my own monogamous relationships, I almost had the invincible perspective: if I stayed within certain guidelines, then I would not have to worry about the relationship deteriorating. The irony is that certainty is what led to the demise of the relationship.

My non-monogamous relationships are different. To clarify: it is not as though I feel as though my primary partner is flighty. On the contrary, I know that he is committed to me in the ways that we have outlined in our relationship. The primary difference here is the expectation. What holds us together is mutual interest, instead of the idea of the “boyfriend/girlfriend” relationship. I feel as though we have more at stake. We have to continuously work for our relationship, or else there is no reason to stay.

I have my doubts, but I know that if I work for something, I usually am more appreciative of its presence. I appreciate my partner and do not take for granted our time together. I took so much more for granted when I was a girlfriend. Maybe that was a reflection on me, but it seems to be a recurring theme in the relationships around me, and I want to be different.

How Monogamy is like Religion

To be monogamous is a choice, but often people do not realize that they have any other option than monogamy. We are programmed to believe that we are intended to be monogamous in our relationships, and to deviate from monogamy somehow strips us of our civilized nature—we become like animals.

I call bullshit.

Another institution that is similar in its programming is religion. I was raised as an Episcopal, and readily accepted my moral code as it was outlined in the readings I heard each week. I thought the 10 Commandments were especially effective ruling regulations that everyone who was good would follow. My problem with religion started when I realized that I did not really like going to church, that what I heard most of the time seemed like fiction, and that the cannibalism suggested in eating the flesh of our savior was unjustifiable and just plain weird. So why did I attend church? Because I was scared.

When it came down to it, I liked thinking that when I died I would have someplace warm and pretty to go. It was hard for me to accept that I might just cease to exist. So I stopped going to church. I decided to face my fear—and then a whole other slew of problems presented themselves. Religion had provided my moral code. The dead white men that wrote and re-wrote The Bible had given me a way to live my life. But I could no longer justify that way. I had to come up with reasons for my morals that were not provided to me by someone else.

As my fear of dying dissolved, I began to think of my morals as a work in progress. I am an experiential learner, and I come to decide what I think is right as I make decisions and feel the impacts of my decisions. As a result of Jay Gatsby, I had already started to question the idea of monogamy, and my experiential learning needed to go one step further.

I was in a long-term monogamous relationship, and I was scared of this idea of non-monogamy. It came down to a decision. I wanted to ethically engage in multiple relationships, and I chose to do so. It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made, and it is something I question on a daily basis—when you are inundated with monogamous relationships as a norm, it is hard to not question on a daily basis.

I have come to realize that monogamy (like religion) is not an active choice for people. They see it as a way of life and do not consider life in any other capacity. Or they see their possibilities but they are afraid to begin the exploration. I can’t help but encourage people to explore the reasons for being monogamous—other than the “pro” list I have created in my own head for the one-on-one system, I actually would like to hear some reasons. Ready? Go…

Marriage. Overthrown.

We don’t intend to remain single. For the general population, being single is just a phase, a stage of life to move out of into adulthood, and ultimately, marriage. And for good reason: married workers can receive up to 25 percent more pay than unmarried individuals as a result of health and pension opportunities. Insurance rates are lower and passing on inheritances is a lawful right, among other advantages.

The single population does not have equal rights, and people overlook the inequalities because singledom is not considered a permanent state. Most imagine that they will someday take vows and become a part of the higher-earning, right-bearing, morally advanced marital system. Unfortunately for some, they currently do not have the right to marry. Gay men and women in the United States are fighting for equality. But the majority of the single population is not.

In the book Urban Tribes, the author Ethan Watters introduces an organization called the American Association of Single People. They define the word “single” as every adult who is not married. AASP is a nonprofit of individuals committed to creating equality for those who are single—as a result of their lack of rights or by choice.

I have previously put on my feminism hat and argued against marriage because of the evolution of industrialization. However, later in Urban Tribes, Watters encounters psychologist David Buss who points out, “Monogamy is probably enforced because society is mostly composed of beta males. It is tough to get elected by a population of beta males if they know that you’re going to have a thousand young women in your harem. In polygamous systems, some men get left out, so it’s in the beta males’ best interest to make rules about monogamy” (148). (Clearly they wouldn’t consider opening up a free love system to allow women to have more than one partner.)

Both theoretical explanations of monogamy point to a marital institution that is less than pious—not to mention the divorce and infidelity rates. It fosters inequality either on women or on men who might not be able to get women in a polygamous system. The heritage of marriage is flawed. Yet there are many people who want to be able to take part in the system.

I commend organization such as the AASP who look to vilify inequalities resulting from marriage. I also understand the plight of those who wish to take part in the institution, but are legally limited. However, I do not accept the system as it is. If I could charge both populations with one goal, it would be to create something new. Marriage as we know it should be an institution of the past, an overthrown entity that is eclipsed by a new commitment system.

Now is the best time to innovate, to create a new system for individuals to subscribe to without the inequalities that marriage upholds. New commitments could stop divorce rates and invigorate fresh generations. It would shake the foundation of the culture in America and show the world that we not afraid to build newer, better institutions. We could flourish personally, and as a unified collective, as we abolish the inequalities of the tradition of marriage.

We don’t intend to remain single. But we should build a better institution to house commitment. Marriage is just so limiting…

V Day

On behalf of V Day:

Embrace Your Inner Girl

The Price of Stagnancy

I like people who show excitement about their lives—maybe because my emotions are written on my face, and I like it when I can tell what other people are feeling too. My friend Paul is one of those people that embraces his happiness and shows the world. You can just feel the goodness when you hang out with him.

I feel lucky to hang out with Paul, and I felt particularly grateful for his presence last week when I met up with him after an exceptionally stressful day at work. Paul’s energy worked wonders and within minutes we were sharing animated stories and delightful conversation.

Until we reached the topic of his girlfriend. It was like the energy wafted away from him. No more excitement. No more goodness. But he said only good things. She was understating, flexible, and kind-hearted. She loved children, wanted stability, and wasn’t an alcoholic. He dug her. But he was by no means excited about her.

I did not intend to foster a negative response, but I had to ask what was up. I received a twofold candid answer: 1. He did not see his relationship with her as long term, and 2. He had yet to come across anyone better.

I prodded. He couldn’t see himself with this girl for a long period of time because she did not challenge him. It is not that she is dumb, but she is not smart either. And she couldn’t hold an intense conversation. Often, they would speak about the events of the day, and then the conversation would cease. And he had dated around before. He got along with this one, she wasn’t crazy, and she did offer him some autonomy. For all of the positive reasons he remained in the relationship, but there was clearly something missing.

In typical form, I started to consider relational stagnancy that is maintained because there is no one better as a prospect. If another, more desirable mate presents him or herself, the stagnant relationship can then be dissolved. It takes another person to be a catalyst for the termination of the relationship.

I couldn’t help but wonder how stagnancy-maintained relationships translated into non-monogamous relationships. The ability to date anyone at any given time hinders a breakup based on another partner coming into the picture. There are some exceptions to this rule, as always, but mostly it would be hard to tell your non-monogamous partner that you no longer wanted to date him or her because of another partner.

In monogamous relationships, you could look at getting out of a stagnant relationship like getting out of a limiting job. You have stayed with the company for years, have some investments with the company, but if something better comes along you are more than willing to quit to advance someplace else. However, non-monogamy would be like having multiple jobs. One you feel moderate about, one you can advance with, and one you only do on the weekends, for example.

There are a few problems I have yet to mention. First, if you are stuck in a stagnant monogamous relationship, how do you go about finding someone better? Considering the expectations of monogamy, it is tricky to date around. If the better prospect is a friend, you don’t actually know if they would make a better romantic partner; you probably just have an idea or you have not been faithful to your monogamous partner, and you are a jerk. Second, in non-monogamy, relationships do end. The reason for the breakup would probably sound something like, “I feel like we just won’t be able to grow if we maintain our relationship.” (Yes, yes. I do understand that this can happen in monogamous relationships as well, but return to the example of my friend Paul).

Okay…lots of rambling, but what’s my point? I do not think that monogamy and non-monogamy are the only ways to live. They are however, the most prevalent ways of life that I choose to discuss. So, with these two types of being in mind, I want to ask: Are humans drawn to stagnancy? We like comfort and routine, and we do settle. Do we reach a mediocre level of happy and just remain in it until we die? Do we uphold stagnant relationships because at least we are in a relationship? Do we limit our growth and potential happiness because “there is no one better out there”?

I will never claim to have the answers to these questions, although I could probably construct a pretty good argument if I wanted to. I don’t want to though, because it makes me nervous that, in an increasingly individualistic society, we have a paradigm on our hands: we do not rely on ourselves for happiness. We invest in other people, even if the people are not our ideal. We do not take responsibility for our own relational growth. Instead, we settle.

For now, Paul is no different. He will maintain his relationship. I just hope that someone better comes along soon.

Condom Contract?

I like to think that the act of communication is a generally straightforward act. You open your mouth, engage your vocal chords and the various muscles necessary to form noise, and words come out. However, we have all had moments where words are hard to come by because of the content of our message. These situations muddle the straightforward nature of utterance. For me, it is like butterflies in my stomach are holding the strings that have sewed my mouth shut. Often, the nerves telling you to not speak are trying to squelch something important. Or something that you have never considered verbalizing before.

My mouth had a rough time forming words when I wanted to ask my primary partner about the bounds of our condom contract. Let me provide a little background:

My primary partner and I have had a condom contract for about a year. For those of you who are not familiar with the terminology, I define my primary partner as the main relationship(s) in which I engage. A condom contract, according to the UK Polyamory Society (see the website for a nice list of terms that relate to non-monogamy and polyamory), is “an agreement between members of a non-monogamous relationship…to use condoms with sexual partners outside of those within the agreement.” Basically my main partner and I only have sex with each other without condoms.

I came to a point where I had to question my condom contract because another man came into the picture. I wanted to maintain the contract with my primary, but I also wanted to consider this other man. Would my primary let another man in on our contract?

In order to ask this question, I had to engage in an empathy activity: I wanted to know how I would react in the same situation. I asked myself first, would I ever consider letting another person into our contract for him? I decided that it very much depended on the person and the situation. So then, what would it take for me to come to a conclusion? What would I need in order to feel comfortable with my primary sharing unprotected sex with another woman?

The nature of non-monogamy requires a great amount of trust: if my primary partner decides to have sex with another woman without protection, my health is in jeopardy; therefore, I have to trust that he will tell me if he violates our contract. If I had to consider another person in my contract, I would have to meet him or her. I would have to like him or her. I would have to trust him or her with my body as much as I trust my primary partner.

So finally I sacked up, took a deep breath, and asked my primary his thoughts on the situation as I exhaled. After a thoughtful glance, he answered, “I would rather only trust you, and not bring in another person.” Needless to say, our condom contract remains in tact. I had to give the boy credit; he knew right off what he wanted. And I had to analyze the challenges of communication in order to even begin to decide. Seems about right.

Monogamists are Romantics

“All the romantic imagery of ‘true love’ that has since helped to idealize marriage in contemporary society can’t change the fact that marriage is essentially a property relationship.”
-Sharon Smith

Monogamists are Romantics

Marriage is an achievement: a state that people aspire to attain, and often they feel inadequate if they do not conquer the monogamous relationship by a certain age. To put it simply, we expect and are expected to get married in order to begin the process of legitimate procreation. I experience this expectation every time I make the long-distance call to chat up my grandmother. At 85, the woman is still sharp, and she prods me about when I will say the fateful, “I do.” She reminds me that she was 24 when she got married, and that I should kick up my game in order to snag a mate.

We create cultural scripts—books, movies, and music—that heighten the expectations of monogamy. The general population is inundated with media that idealizes the marital relationship, even as children. We don’t consider questioning the institution because it is something that just is. Prince Charming marries Cinderella, Romeo marries Juliet, the Bachelor marries his ideal woman. And everyone who enters into the vows are happy.

Monogamists are romanticists. They are on a quest to defeat the norm, rise above the divorce rates, and strive to have a love that transcends time and epitomizes marital bliss. I thoroughly enjoy the idealism that is monogamy. It is the one thing I still struggle with because I also grew up thinking that I would have a love that fulfilled me body, mind, and soul forever. Some days I feel as though my youthful romantic monogamist is in a mighty duel with the realistic non-monogamist that I have grown into. The youthful fall so easily when they stand on the shaky ground of romanticism.

I am a realistic non-monogamist. I cannot help but read the cultural scripts on monogamy and latch on to all the failure. I also can’t help but question where the idea of monogamy began in the first place.

Random fun fact about me: I dig Marx. I think he is all kinds of interesting (see Sharon Smith’s works for some interesting in-depth analysis on both Marx and Engles). Between Marx and Engels, they wrote that the nuclear family unit, including the monogamous pairing of the mother and father, did not exist before the class society. They theorize that monogamy gained popularity when women were pigeonholed into reliance on their male partners because they did not push a plow, but carried children. The plow provided a means for surplus and wealth, but it was the man’s wealth because he produced it. Monogamy entered the picture when men wanted to pass their wealth down, and women were the means to children. Women had to be monogamous in order to insure the paternity of the child.

The theory not only explores the origin of monogamy, but also explains why marriage seems to be inherently hypocritical: women had to be monogamous, but men could be freer with their sexuality because they had more control in the relationship. Monogamy gave birth to prostitution. Hookers meet a monogamous society’s need of providing unattached sex. Men could fuck around and not get emotionally attached. As men were allowed their frivolities, the virtue of women was reinforced. And then the scripts started. True monogamy became idealized. Property was still important, so monogamy was still valued. But hookers still existed and women started to share in the adulterous activity.

Non-monogamy is a realistic approach to romance. I have let go of the scripts that are reiterated in the media that surround me. I have embraced the Marxist idea that by nature, we were not monogamous, but rather our human creations have driven us to marriage for economic purposes. I am glad that there are still some idealists out there, and I hope that for some of them, they are able to achieve their dream of marriage. It is just not for me.

Post Script: People have an incredible ability to justify anything in their favor.

Wardrobe Malfunction

A few years ago, when Janet Jackson flashed her pasty-adorned breast, Janet drew the attention of the masses. The event was termed a scandal, and according to Wikipedia, the incident spurred over 5,000 stories in major US publications, newspapers, and TV/radio broadcasts. The football-watching world was in an uproar because of the tit-interruption of the half-time show (Oh the irony of men).

Later, Justin Timberlake declared that Janet had a “wardrobe malfunction.” I would venture to say that on a typical day, Janet does not wake up, slap some sticky on her nipple, and adhere a decorative embellishment under her clothes. What I am trying to say is that I don’t think Janet had a “wardrobe malfunction” at all; I think she planned to have half of her top ripped off.

At this point it is entirely valid for you to be wondering what Janet’s exposed breast has to do with non-monogamy. I realize that this is a stretch, but bear with me: Janet was required to explain the exposure of her breast. Why is it so hard to understand that she may have strategically paired the reputably amazing halftime-show with the amazingness of her boob for entertainment value? Unfortunately, the event was played off as unintentional, and “wardrobe malfunction” was coined. Point JT.

So here is my connection: many people engage in non-monogamous relationships with the intention of finding a monogamous partner, so they do not explain themselves. I intentionally engage in non-monogamy, and because my intention is not ultimately monogamy, I am regularly asked to give an explanation. Apparently, my lifestyle is just as outlandish as Janet’s mostly covered boob, and requires the same level of attention to intention. But why? Why do I have to explain myself? I can come up with four reasons:

1. People simply don’t consider non-monogamy as a legitimate lifestyle. They do it, and don’t talk about it, and are accepted because they are on their way to monogamy. My intention sets me apart. I feel obligated to provide an in-depth explanation in order to be fair to all involved.

If people were brought up to question the institutions around them, I would not have to explain myself. However, we are complacent; we don’t like to question what is comfortable. My questions led me to different answers, and I have to regularly provide a context for my actions.

2. People have presuppositions about non-monogamy, such as being non-committal or promiscuous. The presuppositions have to be rectified in order for me to be seen as a legitimate partner. (Apparently, I am all about legitimacy.)

3. I have a desire to foster open and honest communication in the relationship being established. I want my relationships to create the atmosphere of understanding and questioning. I have nothing to hide about my relationships, so I am inclined to explain my behavior.

4. I don’t want to be monogamous, and this is hard for some people to understand. Monogamists are romanticists, and non-monogamists tend to be realists. People want to find that one person that fulfills their needs, and I would rather find myself and engage in relationships.

It comes down to the idea that I am seen as living a lifestyle that does not jibe with the norm. I define myself as different because of the reactions I receive from those around me, and I have to explain the foreign concept that others have not considered. I don’t want to be seen as an entertainer exposing my tots for ratings, so I provide a clarification that is true for me: I expose myself because I want people to understand. I also want people to relearn to question everything—monogamy is only one institution that we have settled in to.

Yin Yang versus Venn Diagram

Monogamous relationships seem to be symbolized by a yin yang yin-yang —two parts that come together to make a whole. I am not saying that all monogamous relationships are this way, but monogamy lends itself to the idea that people are not whole without a partner, and that they rely on one partner to complete them. For example, the phrase “your better half” is widely known and accepted to refer to a significant other. The prevailing attitude that one person plus one person equals one household can work for some individuals, but it is inherently irrational to me.

Instead of a yin yang, I like to think of relationships like a Venn diagram: two whole entities come together and parts of their lives intersect to establish a relationship. The circles remain independent of each other in the Venn diagram scenario and each can grow in relation to the other or independently. The Venn diagram is also useful as a symbol for non-monogamy because it allows multiple circles to intersect and overlap.

So…why symbolism talk? I’ve been doing research lately on non-monogamy within the institution of marriage. One book I have found interesting is called Beyond Monogamy: Recent Studies of Sexual Alternatives in Marriage edited by James R. Smith and Lynn G. Smith. Published by The Johns Hopkins University Press, the book is a compilation of articles that explore the role of sex in traditionally defined marriage. The only downfall of this book is that Recent actually means it was published in 1974, right in the middle of the “Free Love” movement. The publishing time period could be both a benefit and a downfall of the text depending on how you look at it, but I will not go into that now (if you really want me to, please ask and I will be more than willing to provide an explanation).

However, one particular article that caught my attention is called “Open Marriage: The Contextual Framework” by O’Neill and O’Neill. It defines an open marriage as “a relationship in which the partners are committed to their own and each other’s growth” (62). My initial reaction to the definition was that a traditional marriage could have this quality—monogamous partners can just as willingly choose to be committed to growth as non-monogamous partners can doom each other to stagnancy. But the authors argue their definition of an open marriage departs from the typical roles defined within marriage. I can see their rationale, but here is where I would call attention to the date of publishing—in 2009, we have, for better or for worse (pun intended; appreciate!), changed the “traditional” roles of partners in a marriage. I at least like to think that women are seen more as equals and less as June Cleavers.

The closed marriage, then, is defined: “The expectations of closed marriage—the major one being that one partner will be able to fulfill all of the others needs (emotional, social sexual, economic, intellectual, and otherwise)—present obstacles to growth and attitudes that foster conflict between partners” (62). Just as I could see the rationale behind the roles of a traditional marriage, I can also see the rationale behind the idea that monogamous partners expect their significant others to fulfill their needs; it is the yin yang model.

The flaw in the design of the yin yang is that it limits the growth of partners. The two sides will not fit unless they grow at the same time and at the same rate, and that is nearly impossible for two people to do unless you are an identical twin sharing a prenatal sack with your sibling. The evolution of relationships, with the woman as equals business and all, seems to be throwing out the traditional roles of marriage and moving it to more of a union capable of growth. Marriage can be a fluid structure built to suit both partners.

So here is my point: marriages should be cultivated to promote growth of both parties—to be Venn diagrams. I would suggest that we re-define marriage and completely disregard the “traditional” expectations. In this model, each partner could outline what he or she need and strike a balance of needs. Marriages should be an annual contract to be reassessed when the contract expires. The annual reassessment would give marriage a fresh perspective because partners could dissolve the relationship without messy divorces, and people would not take their husbands and wives for granted because they had sworn to be around until death.

A German politician tried to institute marriage as a contact and lost all kinds of popularity as a result (http://tinyurl.com/yg4b87r). Luckily, I’m already “what’s wrong with America,” and I’m not a politician, so that’s happy. Anyway, that’s all for now.

I have always had a crush on Jay Gatsby. And I have always latently blamed the late, Great Gatsby for my initial campaign against traditional marriage. You see, when I was a fifteen-year-old high school English student, I couldn't help but advocate for Gatsby's cause and create my first critique on the institution of marital bliss.

Gatsby and Daisy were the titular characters of my paper defining the basis of my critique on marriage—that vows allow for a general stagnancy due to the lack of necessary relational reassessment. Instead of marriage, I posed that committed relationships should be contractual, spelling out expectations, and the general unspoken entitlements of monogamy would not be presumed. The contract would be subject to re-evaluation on an annual basis, and could be dissolved according to the agreed upon "relational separation" clause. Granted this rationale has grown over the years, but the main point remains intact...Read More!