Maybe I should call it “quality of shared life.” I have not only had to accept that I will never get proposed to, but also that I will probably won’t experience the acceptance of my decisions in mainstream culture in my lifetime. By mainstream culture, I mean the other institutions besides marriage that I will engage in that will not identify my relationships as valid because I do not have a legal document validating my multiple, consensual relationships. In addition, I mean personal relationships that do not allow for transparency.

Let me begin with what I consider a basic human right: health care. While I like to think our country is moving towards the ideal of healthcare for everyone, it still is not a part of the constitution. Due to a lack of written support, we all still have to worry about what will happen if we become ill and how we will be able to afford the costs of a major illness or accident. The beauty of marriage is that insurance grants dual coverage, and insurance companies have begun to recognize other types of partnerships to be covered as well. However, I cannot cover more than one partner. The lack of institutional support causes relational tension: how do I choose which partner to cover? Or are we just expected to maintain our own autonomous insurance plans? Shouldn’t my identification of my family be what my insurance covers? I want to take care of my loved ones, but I am unable to due to the inherent normalcy of monogamous relationships and the inability to diversify because I’m lucky enough to love more than one person.

Insurance is a great funnel into the much larger issue that is governmental acceptance. More than likely, I will always be represented as a single person. I cannot file my taxes with more than one joint spouse. I can enter into various relationships with business partners and make financial decisions accordingly, but I cannot file taxes with people that I share my life with and know and trust. I’ve considered making an LLC and have my partners as investors—but that’s a different blog for a different time. I’ve considered working on the campaign to change how relationships are legalized, but we have big enough issues trying to change the genders in the “one man and one woman” marital definition, let alone removing the limiting numbers altogether. My considerations would work toward changing a standard that would acknowledge my decisions, and I have realized that people very much take for granted the acknowledgement of monogamy. Fortunately for me, I am not at a place in life where I need coverage for my multiple partners—I’m not ready for marriage yet, if it were an option. It is just hard when I cannot consider certain options, and don’t know if I will ever have the luxury of such considerations.

Finally, and more pressing for me, are the personal relationships that I have that impact the quality of my shared life. In the workplace, I cannot talk openly about my various partners. In order to maintain my professionalism, I have to closet my deviant relational behavior and ignore the plus one option on my holiday party invitation. Even my family affects my romantic relationships—I can’t invite my loves to Thanksgiving because my grandmother would probably have a heart attack if I tried to explain to her my situation. Personally, I have a very limited pool of friends who I talk openly with about my relationships because they are willing to understand and accept my lifestyle. I tend to avoid the relationship conversation in general, and when I am directly asked, I skirt answering because of the potential negative repercussions.

We like to think that we are free to make our own relational decisions, that our sex life is ours to own and live with. When it comes down to it, there are too many players involved. The relationships we engage in are our reflection in our community—and if our relationships aren’t accepted we either narrow our community or become segregated. With insurance, I don’t have the option to have the coverage conversation—so I have to take what I can get. With the government, the polyamorous community has been ignored by definition: we are not recognized and we have quite the fight ahead if we ever want to be acknowledged.

My hope resides in personal relationships because they are not institutionalized. I can change how I decide to approach my colleagues, and speak easy about the two people that I love. I can remove my fear, and let go of my friends who do not accept my lifestyle, while fostering relationships with those who seek to understand. I can decide to celebrate my holidays on my own terms, and disregard the traditions that my family has upheld with marital partners. I can fist pump and become an activist for my lifestyle with the people in which I know I can have an impact.

But then I come full circle: as much as relationships build community, community is reflected in our relationships. If I push to communicate with only those who make me comfortable, the line between monogamous and nonmonogamous becomes more distinct. I think I’d rather be an invader. If I want to create change, I’m going to have to put my game face on and make some people uncomfortable. It only seems fair considering how long I’ve been uncomfortable with monogamy. Hell, maybe I’ll even get down on one knee and make a proposal. In relational warfare, anything is possible.

Let me provide you with an example. There are many women out there who are unable to achieve an orgasm. If a woman is inclined enough to try to change her anti-get-off situation, one of the first suggestions she will encounter is that she should “get to know her body”—aka beat off. Once orgasm is achieved in the privacy of her own hand (or toy), then she is encouraged to try out the technique with a partner. The idea is that once she knows what she likes, she will be able to teach her partner how to make it happen as well.

Nothing like an orgasm as positive reinforcement. I want to extend this example a little ways further: if an orgasm is achieved in one position, then it is up to the volition of the achiever to figure out other ways to get off. Men seem to have an easier time at this: they might have had their first self-induced orgasm on their back, but they soon learn to appreciate to convenience of shower hand sex, and then they move to sitting down and even rubbing their dick on a different surface while lying on their stomach. Oh the versatility of the penis. Women don’t always have it as easy. Once they find their spot, it is easier to stick to that position. And once their partner figures it out, they will use that position as a fall back.

Now, back to conditioning: if the positive reinforcement of an orgasm only happens in one position for a woman, then over a period of years (or even months), that position can lead to sexual stagnation for both the woman and the man in this hypothetical relationship. Fortunately for the man, if he has various partners, then the stagnation does not have as grand of an impact—his real problems will be remembering which position gets which partner off.

But the harder-to-please woman is back in the same boat as before. The orgasm might be awake and alive—and she should be grateful for having one at all—but it is limited to that one position. I am going to apply the final puzzle piece here: if she is self-aware enough, then she can figure out other ways to get herself off, thus negating the stagnation. If she is not aware, she is doomed to a sub-par sex life.

Applying this to a broader context of relationships—monogamous or not so much—conditioning can be applied in the general maintenance of relationships, not just to sex. For example, conditioning is a part of our communication patterns: if your partner tells you they are attracted to someone else, we are conditioned to react poorly—even though they were simply being honest. Most people would argue that something bad would come after a statement about attraction for someone other than the relational partner, but that is also conditioning. If you say something that is truthful enough times and you get verbally bitch-slapped, you learn to either lie or keep your mouth shut.

Now, consider self-awareness. If we really want to foster open, honest communication, we need to re-condition ourselves. Before reacting, think. Consider the message and the repercussions of the dialogue. Then talk about it. Talk about how hearing it felt, and also about how saying it felt. If we create a safe place to talk about all of those unmentionables in relationships (unmentionables are those topics that we pretend don’t exist), we are going to achieve the status of the multi-orgasmic woman. I have to say it: liberate your orgasmically-challenged conditioning by beating off; use your words to create the kind of communication that creates relational growth, and champion your conditioning.

I walked into the Museum when it first opened; I actually waited outside the door for ten minutes until it opened, peering in the frosted glass to look over the book selection they had on display. When I finally gained entrance, the other individual who entered with me was a Japanese man in a business suit (I couldn’t help but smile at the variance of patronage).

The Museum was segmented into three floors. The first, focused on sexuality through cameras. It chronicled how photographs and film have created an additional sexual experience through voyeurism, and how sexual consumption has evolved over the last century. The next floor examined sexuality through the safety perspective, how have we learned about the repercussions of “unsafe sex,” and what condom use says about a society.

On the third floor, I discovered a topic that had been haunting me the entire time I was in New York. Conversations and books had led me to this floor, which happened to be a limited-time exhibit: human comparison to animals.

Within the exhibit, Darwin seemed to be the instigator of this comparative tactic, basing his evolutionary theories on such comparisons. The exhibit was not limited to primates, however. There was a monogamy wall discrediting various assumptions that certain animals take one mate for life. The most interesting display was that of the Bonobo Monkey.

The Bonobo facts that hung from the walls of the museum were echoed in a book I happened to pick up on the trip as well: Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan, Ph.D. & Cacilda Jethá, M.D. The two references speak of a group of animals who are the most similar to humans in their sexual activity, posing that both humans and the monkeys are sexually exorbitant.

Sexually exorbitant like Don Juan—a man both praised and criticized for his womanizing behavior. His story has been told for centuries; thus the praise. His character is criticized for seducing young women and then fighting the champions of those women. Don Juan’s story ends in his punishment, proving to readers everywhere that excessive sexual behavior earns a one-way ticket to hell.

And according to other books of manners—Jane Austin, for example—chastity is the preferred human behavior. Anything that defies chastity is seen as animalistic (see Rearden’s battle with sex in Atlas Shrugged). Women are even punished for their sexuality in popular works of fiction that speak to cultural norms—thanks Nat Hawthorne.

Basically, if you have lots of sex you are no better than the animals that bang on the prairie (different than Little House on the Prairie). Back at the museum and in the book, researchers point out that there are very few animals who copulate outside of ovulation. Most animals, apparently, only have sex to procreate. Not the Bonobos—haHA! They do it all over the place, without regard to gender or manners. They are animals, remember.

Does anyone else see the contradiction here? People are expected to be chaste, but we have sex for purposes other than procreation, and if you have too much sex, then you are a beast. But the beasts don’t have sex unless they can make babies out of it, with the exception of the Bonobos. So, the excessive sexuality of humans is not comparable to animals at all. Rather, the Bonobos act like humans.

All of this monkey business in the middle of Manhattan. To be more formal, in an effort to glean some sort of knowledge on inherent human behavior, we look to the animals to understand ourselves. It seems as though we don’t stop at primates either; we compare ourselves to pigs, horses, and even rats. Our tendency for comparison rarely heightens the status of the animal in question; rather it confirms an often negative quality, thereby defaming the human race as a whole.

What good do comparisons serve? They generate interesting theories in relation to animals; they incite jealousy when you see a previous monogamous partner with a new love interest; they make you uncomfortable with your status in relation to the Jones’. Comparison only demonstrates a cultural hierarchy that we seek to uphold with more research and comparisons.

The funny thing about comparisons is how impermanent they are. If Don Juan lived in a polygamist clan; he’d be the bee’s knees. If Hester Prynne got knocked up by a priest now, the priest would be praised for sleeping with an adult woman for a change. And if the ex’s new girlfriend got fat, you wouldn’t feel like ugly rubbish. If we dropped our tendency to compare, I can’t help but think that we’d all be a little happier. But some say comparison is human nature—should we poll the primates?

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

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.

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…

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…

Embrace Your Inner Girl

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.