Diagram of a poly network, analogizing a polycule to a molecule, indicating Lisa and Maria as tertiary partners, and Maria having Amir and Kevin as secondary partners and no primary, and Lisa having Eric as a primary partner and no other bonded relationships than him and Maria. Diagram from What Do You Call It – Some Polyamory Network Terminology, by Violet Michelle Smith, published online at Life on the Swingset.Polyamory is relatively new, and consequently not well defined. The poly community is still experimenting and feeling out how to define its terms. I get asked a lot about what it means and whether one thing or another is or is not poly. When asked about my relationship status, I sometimes just say I am an ethical nonmonogamist, since that starts the kind of conversation I actually want to have with someone in order to explain my own sitch.

But my own sitch is my own sitch. Polyamory is inclusive of countless different relationship styles. One of the fundamental core values of the polyamory community is that we should get to negotiate the kind of relationships we want. Tradition is a square peg for a round hole. Rather than force ourselves to follow some culturally fabricated and packaged script of what a relationship is “supposed” to be or how it is “supposed” to proceed, we can just create the relationships we want, and proceed in the way we want. The outcome in practice is: there are lots of different ways to do poly. Mine is just what I’m doing now. In some respects it’s what’s best for me. It will never suit everyone else. In other respects it’s just what fits my current circumstances, which could change.

So what is poly?

What’s a Definition For?

Of course we do need to distinguish “dictionary polyamory” (Merriam-Webster says its “the state or practice of having more than one open romantic relationship at a time”) from polyamory as a community with a set of values. Ironically, atheists who think “dictionary atheism” is a thing, and therefore atheism has nothing to do with values, contradict themselves by insisting atheists adopt a whole slew of values—such as for logic, evidence, supporting science and skepticism, not supporting religion and supernaturalism, being a social justice warrior against anti-atheist discrimination in society, law, and government, and more. Dictionary atheists aren’t really a thing. Anyone who actually fits the description is scorned and mocked as kooks or apatheists by those who claim to be dictionary atheists but are actually “forcing a values agenda down everyone’s throat” (to borrow their own silly vernacular).

But the usual list of values readily accepted by self-described Dictionary Atheists as being essential to any self-respecting atheist as well as any organized atheist community is sociopathic. It only ceases to be so when humanist values are added to the list. Atheism does not semantically entail any values. You can be an anti-science, pro-religion, faith-cherishing, woo worshipping irrationalist who thinks anyone who openly admits to being an atheist should be shot—and still be an atheist. But. “Atheists ought to be humanists” is still a factually true statement—and not only because this is required to discredit theists who claim atheists are sociopaths with no values. But by the same reasoning, one can be poly by the dictionary, but it remains the case that if you are poly, you ought to be learning and living the core values of the progressive polyamory community. Which are, minimally: honesty, respect, communication, and equality (which unpack to include values for consent, autonomy, and negotiation, among other things). Wikipedia has a broader introduction to polyamory and its values.

For this reason, someone who isn’t living by those core values can validly be said to be either “not really poly” or (more accurately) “doing poly wrong.” And that’s fair. It’s the only way to ensure polyamory remains progressive and not destructive, a human good rather than a social problem. But this means there are two things that can be meant by the sentence “I’m poly” (or “their poly” or any variation thereof). It can mean only that they have multiple open relationships. Or it can mean they strive to live by the core values of modern polyamory (which is inclusive of the other meaning). This also means that when someone asks “What is polyamory?” or “What do you mean when you say you are polyamorous?” they could be asking for either—or probably both. In fact, you almost certainly don’t want to answer with the dictionary definition. Especially if you want them to date you. But even if you just want people to respect and understand polyamory—and you. (The same goes for atheism. “I’m an atheist with no values” is a doomed pickup line. And does not do wonders for respecting and understanding you—or atheism.)

As a result, the dictionary definition is inadequate for what these words are used for. When we are talking about an identity label, which always implies some set of goals and values, and if we actually want to know things about a person, or want them to understand and respect us, we need the broader, community definition. And in practice, that’s what we usually use anyway.

“We’re Not Swingers”?

But even with this understood, there is some confusion around. There are, for example, at least three things that you might be confused about if you try googling around to know what poly is. First, why polyamorists are obsessed with insisting they aren’t swingers. Second, whether polyamory is “about sex” or “about love.” And third, whether polygamy counts as polyamory.

The third confusion is easily dispatched by the core values argument. Indeed, technically polygamy is not even an open relationship, because the women aren’t allowed to have other partners. So whether it even meets the dictionary definition is a quibble. But certainly, as equality is fundamental to the polyamory movement and community, if you aren’t letting the girls do it, you aren’t poly. Or maybe at the most charitable, we’d say you are doing poly wrong. Note that this connects to one of the most common questions I get when I explain I do ethical nonmonogamy: “Do your girlfriends get to date other guys too?” (It rarely occurs to them to ask whether they date other girls too.)

A close competitor for my most asked question is, “And your girlfriends are okay with that?” (It rarely occurs to them to ask whether I have boyfriends who are okay with it.) The answer, of course, is yes. Which gets us to the second confusion. Often you’ll see 101s on polyamory insisting it’s not about sex, it’s about love (or at least implying it, like this brief definition from the Polyamory Society). That of course isn’t true.

Polyamory without sex is just having friends. No one calls having friends poly. Or nonmonogamy. Or cheating, for that matter. Even monogamy culture doesn’t object to partners having Platonic friends, even very close ones. And when it does (in the most abusive variants of monogamy culture), it’s only for fear that they will have sex. And people don’t just often have loving, intimate friendships, they can also have multiple loving, intimate relationships with their family. So obviously polyamory is about sex. It is the rejection of monogamy, and monogamy is only about having sex with one person. Love without sex is just a deep friendship or filial bond.

However, that should by no means diminish deep nonsexual relationships: they are real, important, and as respectable as anything, including marriage. The notion that they are not is a defect in any culture that thinks so. And for that reason, “polyamory” might still be a useful label for overcoming social prejudice against nonsexual intimate relationships. That possibility is still being explored by those who are employing it to that end. If it makes sense for two people in what they would call a romantic nonsexual relationship to call themselves monogamous (if such they were), then it can make sense to call themselves poly (if such they are). So although I will continue here under the operating definition that polyamory is distinguished from monogamy by its open sexuality, I think there may yet be room for a secondary usage for nonsexual bonding.

However, core values again. Though polyamory is primarily defined by one’s sexual behavior—being the only thing that distinguishes polyamory from having friends or close kin—the polyamory movement and community is very ardent in advocating that relationships incorporate a component of love as well. The word, after all, means “many loves.” Although it also means “many lovers.” And polyamorists vary in their criteria for what counts as “love” in this equation. So we should not be overly restrictive in what counts as love. But love has to mean something. And that’s a substantive requirement of polyamory as well.

Most explicitly, if you are only having openly nonmonogamous casual sex with people you don’t even consider your friends, and don’t even want anything more than that, then you are hardly recognized as poly today. That is so contrary to poly values that polyamorists don’t want people thinking they act like that. So they prefer to deny them the label. Though that grates against the dictionary definition. If they are being honest and open, they are technically polyamorous, unless you define “romantic” very narrowly. But it does warrant questioning why someone would not even want to be friends with their partners, or care about them at all. That does not sound good. For anyone. There are positive scenarios imaginable, however.

But this then gets us to the first confusion. You will often hear polyamorists insist they are not swingers. That swinging is not poly. And things of similar sort. Why on earth are they saying that? What’s the difference? Why do they care so much about the distinction that they can blow their tops over it? The distinction is weak at best. Not only because most polyamorists also swing, and most swingers live their alternative relationships identically to many polycules. But also because “swinging” is more a myth in people’s minds than the reality of what actually goes on. Polyamorists have an idea in their head of what “swinging” is, and it’s not actually what most swinging is (although sometimes it is). Many swingers are mutual friends. Or become such. Or are looking for such. Or prefer such. And friendship is love. And wanting friendship is wanting love. And that’s poly.

Because love comes in many degrees. We love our family. We love our friends. We might even love our neighbors. Or our fellow earthlings altogether. “Romantic” love, at least in the most common parlance, does not mean anything other than love + sex (or at least the prospect of a sexual component). Remove the sexual component from any relationship deemed “romantic” and what you have is simply identical to many a deep friendship or kinship. And even “romantic” love varies in degree. And in direct parallel, some friends we love more than others. So it is not plausible to demarcate poly from non-poly nonmonogamy by reference to whether we “love” our other partners. If you care about them, you love them in some degree. And if you don’t care about them, you are a sociopath. Which means whether you are “technically poly” should be the least of anyone’s concerns about you.

But also we must come full circle to the original point: that polyamory is about negotiating the relationships we want, and accordingly there are many ways to do poly (I’ll give some examples later), and that this is a good idea because tradition is a bad idea. When poly communities try to demean and exclude “swingers” (whatever they mean by that; it varies), they are doing the same faulty thing the gay community does when they try to live just like monogamous straight married couples: trying to fit the mold of what society says is “respectable” in order to have respect; rather than fight for the fact that they deserve respect just as they are, and that respect should not have to come at the price of adopting someone else’s cultural straight-jacket. Apart from some set of core values, of course—respect does have to be earned, but it ought not have to be earned by following traditional scripts, which do not actually realize those core values or have little to do with them.

When poly communities try to demean and exclude “swingers,” or even insist on things like the polycule sharing common meals or doing specific kinds of recognizable romanticky things, they are losing the narrative: they are trying to be “respectable” by the standards of monogamy culture, and not by the standards of what ought to deserve respect. Solo polyamory and relationship anarchy have arisen in protest of this. But there needn’t be any strong distinction. Polyamory should be inclusive of all ethical nonmonogamy that meets the same core values (and thus isn’t sociopathic), regardless of how any particular sexlife realizes those values.

For a really thorough analysis of this point, and some sensible philosophizing about how to correctly apprehend the problems defining polyamory, the social politics of it, and other related questions, I highly recommend PepperMint’s Defining Polyamory: Inclusion and Exclusion at Freaksexual. Written back in 2008, it still holds up as relevant and thorough. I find myself pretty much agreeing with all of it.

Styles of Poly

Because polyamory is a broad tent term that includes a lot of different styles of nonmonogamy, it can’t really indicate by word alone which style a person wants or is in at any given time. It ranges from solo polyamory to polyfidelity and includes many different kinds of relationship structure. More in fact than I can describe here. More probably than I can even think of. But I often get asked questions that assume strange things about what polyamory entails. Like, “What will you do when you get old?” or “So you don’t ever want kids?” These are bizarre questions. Countless polyamorists are married for life and have kids. The questions are also a bit prejudiced, of course (nope, lots of people don’t want kids—including a lot of women; and worrying about what a polyamorist will do when they get old seems to harshly ignore the fact that widows and widowers are a thing—not to mention divorcees). But they also betray a failure to understand the options available to the polyamorous.

Here are some of the various relationship styles I have observed—some because I am dating someone in them, others because I am friends with someone in them—and all correspond to numerous cases just like them that I have confirmed in the literature or directly myself (by knowing more than one example personally), so none are unique (and in many particulars I have left the gender unstated, to remind you that these configurations exist along all axes of gender and sexuality):

  • A married couple who live together and have kids, in every way just like any other marital unit—and openly date people on the side.
  • A married couple with children who live with a third (forming a triad) with her own children by a previous relationship, sleeping together (all three share the same bed) and raising all their children in common, and allowed to take occasional lovers on the side.
  • A married couple without children who both date regular partners and swing.
  • A married couple who have a “don’t ask don’t tell policy” in result of which each has a few ongoing love affairs and occasional one night stands.
  • Six unmarried people sharing the same household and finances and often meals as well, and who all have deep emotional bonds with each other, and all have sex with each other in various configurations on a regular basis, and occasionally date outside of the group as well.
  • Two neighboring households each containing triads (three people together) and raising children, sharing child care duties from house to house, with strict rules limiting affairs outside the sextet.
  • A straight single woman with no children (nor any intention of ever having children) who absolutely never wants a husband or live-in boyfriend ever again, or any relationship that ties her down, loves living alone, and who has numerous lovers with whom she has excellent friendships with and goes adventuring with, and also has casual sex with other men she takes a liking to whenever she wants.
  • A single woman raising her own child who dates several men openly, depending on none of them for child care (but sharing custody with the child’s father, whom she has divorced), and also has various kinds of casual sex adventures on the side.
  • An ummarried woman who lives with a man and has over a dozen lovers among her friends, while he dates other women much more occasionally.

Any or all of these arrangements are available to you if you are polyamorous. The difficulty of arranging or keeping them is certainly no greater than you’ll face with monogamy (though depending, I must assume, on where you live). And this list is by no means exhaustive. If you can imagine it, and really would like it, someone out there will probably also be keen on the idea. Poly relationships vary from primary (usually meaning someone one lives with, is married to, or otherwise organizes their life around), to secondary (a non-primary regular lover), to tertiary (a more occasional lover), and a polycule can contain any one or more of these in any combination. Polycules can exist alongside swinging, sex clubbing, one night stands, and other casual encounters (in fact I have found polyfidelity to be quite rare, and some amount of casual sex seeking common). Poly relationships can share homes or not, be local or long distance, vary in their involvement in any childcare or finances (from none to all and every measure in between)—and, again, have any of these in any combination.

Conclusion

Polyamory is basically ethical nonmonogamy. It is the acceptance of more than one sexual partner. It is also the acceptance of more than one emotionally intimate sexual partner. If you are seeking and committed to ethical nonmogamy even when you have no current relationships at all, or just happen to have only one, you are still poly. Because being open is being open, regardless of when you get to enjoy the benefits of that. And that distinction remains with monogamy. Similarly, someone who is asexual can also be poly even in the sexual sense, by being in or fully open to a relationship with someone (or even someones) who retain their sexual freedom. Because they are not forbidden to have multiple sexual partners; they simply don’t want them. But they also don’t need (or maybe even don’t want) a monogamous relationship either.

I’ve also been asked if polyamory should be regarded as a sexual orientation. That depends on what you mean by the term. But since it is certainly true that the desire to be nonmonogamous—and the discomfort at forcing yourself to abide by external cultural norms instead—is real in many people, and varies in intensity on a spectrum from zero to full-on, it certainly correlates with orientation. Similarly from the other perspective: many people literally don’t mind or even don’t want their partners to be sexually faithful to them, and may even feel very strongly about this. Polyamory can also be the target of discrimination. And it is connected to a community developing its own culture. It therefore does not differ from other sexual orientations in any significant respect that I can see. The primary axis of orientation is the gay-straight axis, with bisexuality at the middle. But we already acknowledge asexuality as a sexual orientation. And that entails a second axis, also from zero to full-on—asexual to hypersexual—with average libido at the middle. It would not be inconceivable then to add a third axis, perhaps from radical monogamy to polyamory, with serial monogamy in the middle (radical monogamy being the rejection of even serial monogamy), reflecting the heartfelt preferences of a subject on the spectrum.

But whether we call it an orientation or not, it is a lifestyle and identity label. And since polyamory is an identity label, people get to identify with it however they want. Many people I know who might be called swingers are actually just as poly as many a polycule. But they assume, because it is often advocated, that polyamory means “more” than that—and they don’t want people mistaking them for that—so they don’t identify as poly (this way of defining the “swinger/poly” distinction is the tack taken at Loving More). There can be other reasons not to, even when you actually are poly by some objective standard of classification. There is an analog to this in the way many people who don’t believe in gods also choose not to identify as atheists, but by some other label (such as “agnostic”). That’s their right. You should generally respect that. Likewise when an asexual person needs the polyamory label to define the particular relationships they are in.

You can only rightly question someone’s self-identification when it literally does not make sense, as for example someone identifying as an atheist who believes there is an actual supernatural God. You get to question that. Or someone who claims to be a feminist, but only attacks feminism and defends sexism and misogyny. Or someone who claims to be a progressive but whose politics is wholly right-wing. By the same token, people who cheat on an otherwise monogamous relationship shouldn’t get to claim they are poly, because that is not an open relationship. And if someone who is a relationship sociopath—as in, openly nonmonogamous but not caring about any of their sexual partners—comes along and insists they are polyamorous, you can at least justifiably say they are doing poly wrong.

But you don’t get to say swingers aren’t poly, if poly they claim to be, and if they realize the core values of polyamory in their own way: caring about their partners as friends or potential friends, respecting them, communicating, and being honest about it all. And, of course, being legitimately open. Which means, as I answered my building superintendant recently, “Yes. The girls get to do it too.”

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