Why Polygamy Is Not Ethical Non-Monogamy

Dear Viny,

I was wondering what your take on polygamy is, given that you believe in what I think you call "ethical non-monogamy." Are you okay with polygamy? Do you think it should be outlawed? I recently watched a video about a polygamous "sister wife" and she said she was very jealous at first of another sister-wife having sex with their shared husband, but that she eventually realized that she could "want for you what I desire for me." She equated it to the "pure love of Christ." Is that what you're talking about?

Signed,

Is there a difference?

***

Dear Wondering,

Since I'm a word-nerd, I need to point out that polygamy comes from the late Greek πολυγαμία, which means marriage to many. In its stripped-of-connotation, purely definitional form, the term covers any type of non-monogamy in which more than two partners consider themselves to be married to one another. (I say “consider themselves to be married” because most countries, including the U.S., do not currently recognize polygamous marriages.) I have no problem with group marriage, either in theory or in practice, as long as each person in the group is a consenting adult. However, the video you watched was about a family that practices a culturally specific, religious form of polygamy that could more accurately be described by the word polygyny (poly = many; gyne = woman/wife). I do have a problem with this particular version of polygamy, for two reasons: 1) in my opinion, religious fundamentalism is simply crawling with dangerous memes; and 2) the way in which group marriage is practiced among fundamentalist sects is frequently unethical.

In order to explain why I don't think religious polygamy is properly covered by the “ethical non-monogamy” umbrella, even as broad as that is, I'd like to share the Ethical Sex Manifesto I'm currently working on as part of the book I'm writing. {NOTE: this manifesto is a WORK IN PROGRESS. Please feel free to chime in with comments/feedback/questions/suggestions! Thanks!}

ETHICAL SEX IS CHARACTERIZED BY:

AUTONOMY

• My sexuality is mine, and mine alone. I have the right to think whatever I think and feel whatever I feel. I also have the right to express (or repress) my own sexuality in any way I choose, as long as doing so harms no one else in any way I could have foreseen and prevented.
• Your sexuality is yours, and yours alone. It is my moral responsibility to respect your autonomy: I will never impose myself upon you. I will engage with you sexually only with your informed consent and express permission. If I know that you are unable to give informed consent and express permission, I will refrain from engaging with you sexually, and I will protect you from harm by doing what I can to ensure that others respect your autonomy.
• We are all connected. Sex between truly autonomous individuals is one manifestation of this deeper truth.

EQUALITY

• Every human being has the same inviolable right to autonomous sexual expression, regardless of ability to exercise it. Someone who is temporarily impaired (e.g., not sober, not awake) has not given up that right. Someone who is permanently impaired (e.g., physically or mentally disabled) has not given up that right.
• Some people (e.g., children, elders, developmentally delayed individuals) may need guidance or assistance so that they do not express their sexuality in ways that harm themselves or cause distress to others, but I will not assume that these people have no sexual needs.
• I will do my part to work against systems of oppression that marginalize individuals on the basis of gender, gender expression, sexual orientation, body type, relationship status, or any other aspect of sexuality.

HONESTY

• I will give you any information you need in order to give your consent to any sexual activity we engage in together. I will ask you for any information I need in order to give my consent. And I will do everything I can to ensure that everyone whose sexual health could be affected by my choices has access to any information they need in order to make their own choices.
• I will be clear about my yes and no.
• I will not play sexual games unless all players have agreed to the rules.

FLUIDITY

• No sexual “contract” is binding. People can always change their minds, which means that consent is necessarily a continuing dialogue. I will never hold you to a promise you made on behalf of your future self: I understand that if you ever rescind your permission, you are now saying no, regardless of what you might have said earlier.

HUMILITY

• I don't know everything there is to know about sex, ethics, or any other topic. I assume that you know more about your sexuality than I do, and I will behave accordingly.
• In general, I will avoid interfering in other people's sex lives. Consenting adults do not need my approval to engage in sexual activities of their choosing. If intervention becomes necessary because someone's sexual autonomy is being violated, I will defer to group consensus on the best course of action to take. 
• My definition of ethical sex is my definition. I understand that your definition may be different.

As you can see, polygamy – at least as it is usually practiced among fundamentalist Mormons and other fringe religious groups in the U.S. – completely bombs my “Is it ethical?” litmus test. In these groups, wives and children are too often treated like property, teenage girls can be married off to old men against their will, and religious leaders work to create a climate of paranoid secrecy. In short, this kind of polygamy is a set-up not just for unethical sex as *I* have defined it, but also for widely-recognized violations of individual rights ranging from marital rape to the systematic sexual abuse of children.

So, to answer your question: Yes, Wondering, there is a difference. A HUGE difference.

No, I'm not saying religious polygamy is all bad, or that everyone practicing it is necessarily either a perpetrator or a victim of sexual abuse. Nor am I trying to claim that there are no similarities between religious polygamy and what I consider to be more ethical forms of non-monogamy. For example, I have no doubt that the polygamous woman in the documentary you watched has experienced the joys of compersion, a neologism coined by the polyamorous crowd that means something like, “the feeling that comes from taking pleasure in a loved one's pleasure.” I can see why a sister-wife might have equated this wonderful feeling with the "pure love of Christ" – but I would argue that the spiritual benefit of compersion comes at great cost whenever it occurs in a larger context of coercion.

Finally, I found it interesting that you asked me whether I think polygamy ought to be outlawed. As I've already noted, polygamous marriages aren't legally recognized, and some of the practices common among fundamentalist groups (e.g., arranged “marriages” in which girls as young as 13 or 14 are paired with much older men) are actually punishable violations in the U.S., and many other countries, too. For all intents and purposes, then, religious polygamy has already been outlawed. Did you mean to ask whether I thought polygamy ought to be somehow stopped? Well, that's a tricky one. Let me preface my answer by noting that modern-day religious fundamentalists refer to their doctrine of plural marriage as “The Principle.” I'm always going to put people above principles – my own included.

Beets and Beatitudes,

Viny

When Mum's the Word: Respecting Different Approaches to Ethical Non-Monogamy

Dear Viny,

I'm wondering if you have any insights about how to deal with generational differences in poly relationships.

Currently, I am involved with someone much older than I am. He grew up during the 60's, when the free love movement was just beginning. He has told me stories about sitting in the back seat of cars, making out with chicks, and no one would mention birth control or even discuss whether or not to have sex, just so that if anything were to happen, it would be the result of a spontaneous accident. As a child of the 80's who grew up during the AIDS epidemic, I remember sitting in the back seat of cars, making out with boys, and asking, “Baby, did you bring a condom?” without missing a beat.

Skipping ahead a few decades, we now have a situation in which my lover and I have different approaches to being in an open relationship. Before entering into a space of physical intimacy, we both spoke with our spouses. My husband and I opened our marriage eight years ago, and are very comfortable with these kinds of conversations, but this was a new topic for my lover and his wife. During their conversation, which I was not present for, they agreed to a variation of the “Don't Ask, Don't Tell” approach, which I don't clearly understand. She has since made several friendly overtures toward me and my family, and this has been reassuring. However, she and I have never had a meaningful conversation, much less talked about boundaries, scheduling, sexual hygiene, or any of the other conversations we poly folks are accustomed to having.

My lover's wife is not interested in having a sexual relationship with anyone at this point in her life (not even her husband – they haven't had sex in several years). Still, I'm feeling anxious about their arrangement. It's not that I think he is being unethical. I am pretty sure he is following the “rules” of his marriage. My problem is that I don't understand those rules. I feel like the American poly Eliza Doolittle at the hush-hush Euro-style party, and I'm worried I'm going to make a faux pas and not even understand the nature of the mistake.

I want to let my lover and his wife handle their marriage their own way. At the same time, I want to feel more at peace. Are there constructive changes I could propose, while still being respectful of generational differences in our approaches?

– Rio, dancing on quicksand

***

Dear Rio,

Based on my own intimacies (sexual and platonic) with people 15+ years older than myself, people my own age, and people 15+ years younger, I might be able to make a few generalizations about possible generational differences – for example, “Older people are more likely to think of sex as a private matter, and less likely to enjoy electronic dance music,” or, “Younger people are more likely to feel comfortable sharing graphic pics/videos of themselves, and less likely to use apostrophes when texting.” However, I don't think these kinds of generalizations are particularly helpful when it comes to developing and maintaining authentic relationships. We fall in love with individuals, not with broad cultural patterns or statistical likelihoods. One of my long-term partners was born before 1960, and he's one of the most sexually open people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. When I first met his family, I was surprised – and delighted! – by the ease with which he and his siblings talked and joked about sex-related topics with their 80-year-old parents. Clearly, they didn't get that “Leave It to Beaver” memo about keeping bedroom talk in the bedroom, under the covers, with the lights off.

I'm not sure it matters why your lover and his wife are choosing to handle things differently than you and your husband do. It might be due to the fact that they're older, or it might be due to some other factor or combination of factors. In any case, the real problem here is not the age difference. The real problem is the lack of communication. And this one is a particularly sticky wicket, because you can't exactly solve it by communicating about it! Unfortunately, when one person wants to talk and another does not, the person who says “no” always wins.

You're in a really frustrating position, Rio. Your lover's wife has not agreed to have a direct relationship with you, and she has no incentive to go along with any changes you might propose, no matter how constructive they might be. If you tell your lover, “I need your wife to communicate with me,” or even, “I need you and your wife to communicate with each other about me,” you would be putting him in a frustrating position: he would have to choose whose stated needs to honor, yours or hers. And no one wants to be cast as the “middle man” in that kind of power play. (Ah, yes, the circular argument: if only you could speak to his wife directly....)

I suggest you step back from this whole convoluted mess for a moment to focus on the person you have the greatest chance of changing: yourself. Who are you, and what do you need from others in order to show up as your authentic self in your relationships? Where are you willing to stretch, and where are you in danger of snapping?

Take a good look at whether you are honoring your own boundaries in this relationship. Your lover and his wife have set their boundaries. You need to set yours, and then determine whether there is enough space in between for a relationship to flourish. Do you have any relationship deal-breakers? For me, dishonesty and unwillingness to disclose information I need in order to protect my sexual health are definite deal-breakers. You don't seem to be worried that your lover hasn't given you the straight story, and (assuming he's been truthful with you about being in a sexless marriage, and truthful with his wife about being in a sexual relationship with you) it isn't strictly necessary for you and his wife to communicate about sexual hygiene. But are there any other consequences of “Don't Ask, Don't Tell” that you are not okay with? If so, you need to discuss these deal-breakers with your lover.

It may be that you don't yet know what all of your boundaries are, and that's fine. Give it some time. Drawing clear boundaries takes years of practice and a super steady hand. Your lover and his wife are new to this – and so, in some respects, are you. They are new to ethical non-monogamy, and you are new to their way of being ethically non-monogamous. Given sufficient time and increased levels of trust, people's boundaries often shift. Perhaps your lover's wife will eventually feel more comfortable talking openly about your sexual relationship with her husband. Or perhaps you won't mind catering to her wishes after you get to know her well enough to understand why she might prefer privacy to disclosure.

Meanwhile, don't be afraid to fuck up. Do your best to honor the agreement your lover has made with his wife, but only to the extent that you feel comfortable doing so. In my opinion, you ought to err on the side of saying too much rather than too little, since your preference is to communicate more openly. If something you do turns out to've been a faux pas, be grateful: you can learn a lot from a few mis-steps! If you find that you keep tripping over the same sharp rock in the green pasture of love – and no one else is on board with painting it day-glo orange so that you can see it better, and there's no way you're gonna get the go-ahead to dig it up and drag it somewhere safer – you will know you need to move the fence until that particular rock lies outside your stated boundaries.

So, my fair lady, please repeat after me: the rhine in spine falls minely on the pline....

Dipthongs and derring-do,

Viny

Metamour Allergies: I Can't Stand My Partner's Other Partner

Dear Viny,

I really, really, *really* don't like my partner's other partner. However, he is completely enamored with this person. I fear that he's too wrapped up in NRE to see what's going on. What should I do?

- Totally Irritated

***

Dear Irritated,

Unfortunately, the only known antidote to New Relationship Energy is time. Right now, your partner has those rose-colored wraparounds firmly affixed to his head with hormonal superglue, two balls of twine, a studded collar, and fifty yards of fuschia duct tape: there is nothing you can do or say that will make him see his lover through your eyes.

Unless you have serious concerns about your own or your partner's long-term health and/or immediate safety, the best course of action is probably to wait this one out. That can be tough when you're sneezing and wheezing and scratching at your metamour-induced hives, I realize. So here are a few suggestions for things you can do during the time it's going to take for your partner to come to his senses:

1) Check Your Own Lenses. Your partner may be too in love to see clearly, but what makes you so sure your own vision is any clearer? Are you looking at the world through the green-tinted glasses of jealousy or envy? If so, you have some work to do.
2) Gather More Information. Find out what you can about the person your partner thinks is so great. Approach this task in a spirit of curiosity and open inquiry, keeping in mind how easy it is to make snap judgments out of ignorance and/or fear. The point here is to understand the relationship dynamic better, not to add to your long list of dislikes.
3) Monitor Your Exposure. It's important to strike a balance between too much Metamour and too little. Are you spending too much time interacting with your partner's partner? Or do you go out of your way to avoid each other? Similarly, do you and your partner spend most of your time processing his other relationship and your negative feelings about it, or are you not communicating about it enough? Either extreme can be problematic.
4) Shift Your Focus. Obsessing about your irritations is a great way to make sure you feel irritated constantly. Try thinking about something else for a change. No, I'm not suggesting that you repress your negative feelings. Keeping the lid on seething resentments means that someone is bound to get scalded the next time you blow off some steam. Accept your feelings. Express them to your partner and/or your metamour, if necessary – as gently and thoughtfully as you can – and then move on.
5) Take Care of Yourself and Your Own Relationships. Your partner's relationship with his other partner is his business, not yours. Unless your partner is in real danger, it is not your responsibility to rescue him from this situation or protect him from the consequences of his bad decisions (if indeed engaging with this particular person turns out to have been a bad decision on his part). Recognize that your energy will be better spent attending to your own business.
6) Apply “Calamine” As Needed. When, despite your best efforts, you find yourself feeling super annoyed, treat yourself to whatever healthy (or even quasi-healthy!) distractions you most enjoy. Also, if you can think of something you, your partner, and your partner's partner would all enjoy doing together, something not likely to cause disagreements or bring up negative emotions for anyone – oven-mitt bowling, hopscotch, a stupid movie, whatever – try to make it happen.

You may never come to adore your partner's partner, but if you take my advice, chances are you'll be feeling meta-more better in six months to a year. At that point, you and your partner will both be seeing a bit more clearly, and you'll find that you are finally looking at the same person: a human being whom your partner fell in love with, and whom you really disliked, once upon a time. Either your partner will have realized that you were right all along, or you'll have realized that he was right all along – or, more likely, both of you will have realized that you both had somewhat valid, somewhat skewed perspectives initially. In any case, whether or not your partner's partner is still a part of your lives, all of you will probably have shifted into more comfortable positions.

Balsam and Butter,
Viny

My Parents Don't Accept My Poly Relationships: A Question from Viny

Dear Viny,

Yesterday, halfway through the first lap of my five-lap run around the track at Fernhill park, I started to cry. I kept running, even though I find it hard enough to run even when I'm not crying. I only started running again a few weeks ago, after not having run for...um, more years than I care to count. Crying, and running anyway: one small leap of faith, and then another, and then another....

I'm writing because I want you to help me articulate something I felt yesterday, but could not (yet) put into words. I'm writing because writing, like running, is a way of moving forward: one word at a time. Yes, Viny, you and I are technically the same person, but can you please do whatever magic thing you do when you answer other people's letters? Read, reflect, consult your friends and acquaintances and random people on the internet, call on the wisdom of the collective unconscious, do some freewriting in your journal, sit at your computer with your cup of Earl Grey and fiddle with paragraphs – you know the drill. Thanks in advance. I look forward to hearing from you.

So here's my problem: every time my parents come for a visit, I end up feeling completely drained. I find it exceedingly difficult to deal with them. Really being present (as opposed to emotionally “checking out”) requires me to tap into my deepest reserves, which inevitably run dry after just a couple of days. This wouldn't be so bad except that whenever my parents are around, I'm cut off from many of my usual sources of renewal: I can't refill, the way I normally would.

Part of the problem is due to the fact that my folks and I don't share the same worldview. They're religious, and I'm not; they're politically conservative, and I'm not; they're monogamous, and I'm not. They have made it clear that they love me and want to have a relationship with me, despite our differences. They have also made it clear that they think my lifestyle is “unethical and immoral,” and that they have no desire to interact with any of my “extraneous people.” So, during their visits, which happen two or three times a year, I have generally tried to keep things parent-friendly. Putting their emotional comfort ahead of my own seemed like a small sacrifice, and I thought I had made my peace with it.

However, a new issue has been developing over the last couple of years. My father is literally losing his mind, beginning with the frontal lobes. He has become increasingly unable to regulate his emotions. Also, he no longer recognizes social cues, which means that he often fails to behave appropriately in social situations. Worst of all, he has seemingly lost the ability to empathize with others. For example, the other day, after my six-year-old daughter accidentally bumped her head on a piece of furniture, he said, “What'd you do that for?” When she didn't answer, he repeated the question again, several times, until she finally burst into tears and fled. “It was a joke!” he yelled after her. As I left the room to comfort my daughter, I could hear my mother remonstrating with him: “You might have meant it as a joke, but it's not funny. No one is laughing.” To which my father replied, “Be quiet, stupid woman!”

I love my dad dearly. I love him for the man he once was, and for the man he still wishes he could be. But he is becoming a really big problem – too big for any one person to handle on her own. My mother is going to need lots of help. And in order to help her, I am going to need lots of help.

What I am beginning to realize is that I cannot keep playing “let's pretend we're a normal nuclear family” for my parents' benefit. My husband and children are wonderfully supportive, but they are only part of my support structure. Not seeing or talking to any of the other members of my tribe makes me feel anxious. And sad. And angry. And frustrated. And then the whirl of emotions gets to be too much, until I feel like I'm beside myself, quite literally: detached, unmoored, adrift.  

Those “extraneous people” aren't extraneous. I need them. They need me. We need us.

As my father declines, I will doubtless be spending more time with with my parents, not less – and that means I am going to have to get more comfortable being my authentic self around them, preferably without making my parents too uncomfortable. My question is this: How do I do that? 

Wondering & Wandering,

Viny

How I Fixed My Parents' Messed-Up Marriage! (Not.)

Dear Viny,

My husband and I opened up our marriage about three years ago with marvelous results. I've talked to my mother about it, and she's been understanding and supportive. I haven't told my father yet because he is conservative, traditionally moral, and would be horrified (bless his Midwestern heart). The problem is, my mom sees how great this relationship model has been for me and has told me she would love to give it a try! My parents married each other when they both had children from previous marriages, and they were great parents together. Since all the little birdies have flown the nest, they haven't been so great at just being spouses together. It kills me to think of my mom being stuck and unfulfilled for the rest of her life. It also kills me to think of them separating because it would crush my dad (he viewed his first divorce as a gross personal failure). I can't quite tell my mom she should just find a little something-something on the side. What to do?

– A Dutiful Daughter 

*** 

Dear Dutiful,

I'm so glad you wrote in with this question, because your feelings vis a vis your parents' troubled relationship strike a familiar chord: I have been grappling with a similar problem. My parents, like yours, built the kind of relationship dictated by the social norms of their generation. Forty years ago, when my mom and dad got married, they assumed they were aiming for the stasis of “happily ever after.” They viewed every inevitable change as a fall from grace, with the result that they are now stuck in the mire of their separate regrets. They focused almost exclusively on their nuclear family, and neglected to invest in an intimate network of friends, with the result that they are now socially impoverished. They allowed themselves to fall into dependence and co-dependence, probably as a way of guaranteeing that they would always need each other, with the result that neither learned how to honor the other's autonomy.

So I called them up yesterday, and I said, “Hey, I know y'all think my lifestyle is immoral and unethical and all, but you guys are so miserable, I figure you might be open to anything at this point, even relationship advice from me. Why don't you let me tell you about all the stuff I've learned over the last fifteen-plus years, and maybe you could give some of it a try? I'm not saying you have to open your marriage or anything – although, Mom, have you considered how great it would be if you had a partner who was capable of supporting you emotionally? Dad, has it occurred to you that there are women your age who still enjoy having sex?”

And they said, in perfect unison, “Wow, Viny, we are so lucky to have a daughter who can offer us a perspective different from our own. Maybe there is a way we can adapt some of your ideas so that they will work for us. Please, tell us more!”

Yeah, right. April Fool's.

Unfortunately, Dutiful, it's probably too late for our parents to turn their ailing marriages around. My folks will probably limp all the way to their side-by-side graves, squabbling as they go. Yours may split up before death does them part, or they may not, but you will most likely have zero control over which path they choose to take, so you might as well resign yourself to accepting whatever outcome comes. As dutiful daughters, the best thing we can do for our parents is to accept them for who they are, be there for them when we can, and try to model healthy ways of relating. And the best thing we can do for ourselves is to let go of our attachment without letting go of our love.

(All easier said than done, I realize. I can be all lotus-heart enlightened when I'm typing away in my quiet house on a rainy Tuesday morning, but ask me how I'm doing three weeks from now, when my folks will be here for Easter, and I bet I will be singing a scratchier tune!)

Before I sign off, I do have one tiny question for you. You say you have talked to your mother, but not your father, about the fact that you and your husband now have an open marriage. Have you asked your mother to keep this information secret? In other words, is there a meaningful conversation your parents could be having but aren't, simply because your mother is under the impression that you do not want her to share your news? If so, is it possible that you are unwittingly widening the rift between your parents in your efforts to protect them from each other? Just something you might want to consider....

Peace & Parsnips,

Viny

Poly, Postpartum, and Perplexed

Dear Viny,

My SO and I have been poly for about five years. Things were going well until we had a baby recently. I find myself struggling with jealousy for the first time, basically, ever. When he spends time with other women, it means time that I have to do childcare. I'm also jealous of the women in his life who do not have post-pregnancy bodies. We've talked about going back to a monogamous relationship, but that would require me to deal with his significantly higher sex drive, which sounds exhausting. I guess there are several questions here. How do I manage my jealousy over the hot, thin women in his life? How do I deal with my resentment over him having sex while I babysit? Is this a sign that we should give up on poly? If so, how do I increase my sex drive?

– Postpartum Polly

***

Dear Polly,

Reading your letter, I found myself transported back in time and space to the spring of 2008 in Tucson, Arizona. I'm pushing a stroller with a sage-colored sunshade down the paved walkway on the north bank of the Rillito River (a misnomer, since it's completely dry most of the year). The sun is strong, and the short noon shadows are starkly defined. Neither the thick trunks of saguaros nor the lacy foliage of mesquites and palo verdes provide much shade, so I am wearing a floppy hat with a wide brim and a loose, long-sleeved white shirt with bell sleeves – basically the only quasi-attractive item of clothing I own that allows for easy-access nursing, disguises my post-pregnancy pooch, and provides enough protection from the desert sun. Periodically, I check my cell phone for the time: I'm trying to give my husband and his girlfriend at least an hour and a half alone together. For the hundredth time, I'm marveling at how evolved I am, how magnanimous, how composed. These self-congratulatory pats on the back are an absolute necessity. They keep me going, though the going has gotten decidedly unglamorous.

Back in the present, in Portland, Oregon: I know intimately where you're coming from. I've been there. Postpartum polyamory isn't a picnic – or if it is, it's the kind of picnic in which you plump your dimpled derrière down on the nearest rock, pull up your shirt, and get the baby latched on before you start leaking milk everywhere...while MEANwhile, your partner and his lover(s) are lounging on a blanket in the shade, sipping champagne and playfully taking turns feeding each other frozen grapes, artisan truffles, and little bites of brioche.

Lady, you deserve an award AND a vacation. Please pat yourself on the back while I set up this virtual palm-frond canopy. Then imagine me massaging your feet with some of this awesome coconut lotion I have, while I address your questions one at a time. I hope you won't mind if I rephrase them just a bit, though. 

    * How do I learn to love the body I currently have?

    * How do I get the support I need from my partner?

    * Now that we are co-parents of an infant, should my partner and I re-structure our relationship?

    * Will I ever feel sexy again?

I changed your first question because I don't think jealousy would be as much of an issue if you weren't feeling dismayed and discouraged about the shape your body is in right now. I changed your second question because I suspect you would worry less about fairness if you were getting your own needs met. I didn't alter the gist of the third question as much, but I thought the language you used was kind of loaded ("Is this a sign we should give up?"). I took some liberties with your fourth question; my apologies if what you wanted was a recipe for a fail-safe aphrodisiac ("Combine one part Spanish fly with two parts Viagra; mix vigorously using a rhinoceros horn sheathed in black latex...") or an instruction manual ("How to Whip Yourself into a Frenzy of Desire When Your Libido Is the Only Member of Your Household Getting Enough Sleep!").

Now, for some answers – a.k.a. Viny's Highly Subjective Opinions on the Subject of Postpartum Poly:

One truism about advice is that it's always easier to give it than live it, and this is especially true when it comes to suggestions for how to love the body you're in, no matter what state it's in. I've never had to deal with serious body-image issues or chronic health problems, and I was lucky enough to bounce back from my pregnancies relatively quickly. Nevertheless, it was still a real struggle for me to accept my postpartum wrinkles, lumps and sags – not to mention the hair loss, the strange skin discolorations on my belly and breasts, etc., etc. (Oh, and the omnipresent, mind-numbing fatigue.) What helped me feel better was to focus on what I appreciated about my body rather than dwelling on all the things that seemed like they'd been ruined forever. Cultivating gratitude will make it easier to treat your body with kindness, patience, and respect. I think you'll find that if you can make peace with your body – your beautiful, amazing mama-body! – you will be less tempted to run negative comparisons. Remember, it doesn't matter what the competition looks like, because it isn't a competition. 

As for how you might go about getting the support you need from your partner, I recommend that you first get clear on what you need – and then try to express these needs to your partner in positive, not negative, terms. A good rule of thumb in dealing with jealousy, which I think is totally applicable here: when you feel you aren't getting your fair share of whatever it is you want, try to balance things out by ADDING MORE to your pile, not by TAKING AWAY from someone else's pile. This works for intangibles (attention, fun, adult conversation, alone time, etc.) as well as actual stuff. Come up with concrete suggestions for what your partner(s) and/or metamours(s) can DO to help you feel better, rather than demand that they STOP DOING things that trigger your negative feelings. For instance, you could ask your partner to attend to the baby while you indulge yourself in some way that actually appeals to you. Maybe you aren't feeling interested in sex right now, but you might enjoy a spa day, or a night out with friends.

My answer to the third question – should you re-structure your relationship? – is an unequivocal yes. If relationships are to succeed, they must change and grow to meet the changing needs of the people in them. You and your partner are now parents, and your relationship needs to adjust to accommodate you as you explore your new roles together. From what I've gathered, it's pretty common for poly couples and triads who have recently had a baby to duck out of the dating scene for a while. This makes sense, given that new parents are often too exhausted to shower properly, let alone carry on scintillating conversations after baby's seven o'clock bedtime. IMO, taking a break from dating to focus on any new addition to the family, be it a new baby or a new partner, is probably a good idea. Notice, however, that “taking a break from dating” does not equate to “giving up on poly.” In family configurations in which one or more of the newly-minted parents has an established intimate relationship outside the family, it is crucial to respect the wishes, wants, and needs of the non-parent(s) when considering relationship-restructuring options. You've made it sound as though neither you nor your SO currently has a serious relationship with an OSO, so de facto monogamy for a period of time might be an option to explore. However, you've also made it clear you don't relish the idea of meeting your partner's sexual needs all on your own. Perhaps you are being unnecessarily hemmed in by an assumption that the two of you must choose between being polyamorous OR monogamous? Ditch the labels, and just create something that will work for you both during this phase of your lives. For a start, how about brainstorming a list of possible sexual outlets for your partner that would require less of his time and energy than dating and/or maintaining another romantic relationship? (Hmmm...that sounds like fun, doesn't it? If you get off on making lists as much as I do, you might end up feeling so jazzed about all your ideas you'll find yourself actually staying awake to have a conversation, running scenarios, getting a little bit naughty.... Just a thought.)

This brings us to your last concern: You're having trouble with polyamory, because you're feeling jealous, because you are not feeling sexy; and you're worried that if you try to solve the problem by switching to monogamy, you're going to have trouble with that, too, because your partner is going to feel deprived and resentful, because you are not feeling sexy. Common denominator: you are not feeling sexy. A major bummer for your partner, because he wants to have more sex. And a major bummer for you – but not because you want to have more sex. You're actually feeling perfectly fine without it, thankyouverymuch. As you probably know, many women experience low libido after having a baby, particularly if they are breast-feeding. I know I did. It's a hormonal thing. Awash in oxytocin, you are probably too content with contentment to miss desire much – but I bet you sometimes think about the crazy girl you used to be, and you feel a little wistful, even though her obsessions seem strange and (truth be told) a little frivolous to you now. You have this vague and distant memory of what it once felt like to be sexy, to want and be wanted, and you can't fucking relate, which makes you wonder if you have become a different person: a staid, boring, matronly sort of person. I could be wrong, Polly, but it seems to me that what you need is permission and reassurance: permission to feel how you feel about sex right now, and reassurance that you won't always feel this way. So, here you go, wrapped with a bow: your lack of interest in sex is both natural and temporary. You're fine, and you're gonna be fine.

Good luck, buttercup – and give that sweet baby a kiss for me.

Sugarcubes & Sassafras,
Viny 

Will I Ever Fall in Love Again?

Dear Viny,

My husband and I have been enjoying a poly lifestyle for about three years now, and we've both had some wonderful and loving extra relationships. A while back, I was lucky enough to go on a weekend away with my Other Significant Other. Reflecting on this now, it was nice to have a fun weekend away, but I found myself missing my husband and not really actually treasuring the presence of my OSO. I'm not sure I'll ever have a deep committed relationship (the kind I have with my husband) with anyone else. I have some experience with human development, and I was thinking about the idea of sensitive/critical periods recently. Could it be possible that we have a romantic sensitive period? If the brain stops developing in the mid 20's (http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/8517683), can I still fall in love the same way I did when I was younger?

Thanks for the good reads,
X. Cogitatum

***

Dear X,

Unfortunately, providing a definitive answer to either of your research questions – 1) “Do human beings have romantic sensitive period that ends around the same time the brain stops developing?” and 2) “Can I still fall in love the same way I did when I was younger?” – is beyond the scope of the current study.

Speaking speculatively, there is some evidence against your theory that there is a “romantic sensitive period”: my own experiences in the past decade or so (I'm 39), plus the personal experience of my two current OSO's, at least two of my ex-boyfriends, my husband's Special Person and several of the OSP's in her life, a bunch of my friends and relatives, and Mona Van Duyn (the author of a gorgeous poem entitled “Falling in Love at Sixy-Five,” which you can read here).

However, it does seem plausible that falling in love and developing deep, committed relationships may be more likely to occur before people reach the age of 30, even though it can and often does happen to people over 30 (e.g., me and the people I listed above, for starters). One of my favorite bits in Van Duyn's poem suggests she's surprised, delighted, and somewhat overwhelmed by the youthful intensity of her late-blooming feelings: “...the jaded heart / might burst into ravished applause for its son et lumiere.” Maybe it isn't just Mona; maybe most of us older folks (ACK! I can't believe I just categorized myself as “older folks”!) have jaded hearts, and it's gonna take a certain je ne sais quoi to get them beating for a Beloved.

But enough of this pseudo-intellectual crappola, X. Let's cut to the chase.

No, you are not a defective human being. You may not have particularly strong feelings for your OSO, and I can understand why you might feel bad about that. But the fact that you don't find yourself “really actually treasuring” time away with your OSO doesn't mean anything except that the two of you don't quite click. It doesn't mean anything more than that about the two of you, and it doesn't mean anything at all about human beings in general. You don't need a theory to hide behind, because there is nothing wrong with how you (don't) feel.

Yes, you are still capable of falling in love. When you are ready to open your heart again, you will. When you are ready to invest in another committed relationship, you will. My guess is that you are not yet ready – but being not yet ready does not mean you will never be ready. Although I'm neither a scientist nor a psychic, I will go ahead and make a prediction: I hear the sound of ravished applause in your future.

Deep thoughts & bon mots,
Viny