In “Exploring Solo Polyamory” (Episode 5, Season 3 of The Soul’s Work Podcast), I responded to some of the most common questions, and often misperceptions, I get about polyamory and solo polyamory (a.k.a. solo poly or SoPo).
Now, almost two years into my SoPo journey, I want to revisit some of those top questions/misperceptions and add some newfound insights from my dating adventures since the episode.
But first, what is solo polyamory?
In the episode, I also break down some definitions of consensual non-monogamy (CNM) and various relationship styles that fall under the CNM umbrella, like polyamory. So if you want a quick CNM 101, jump to the episode to learn more!
But for now, what is solo polyamory? In case the term is new to you, the “solo” part reflects this relationship style’s emphasis on personal agency. Individuals practicing solo poly “do not seek to engage in relationships that are tightly couple-centric or financially and/or domestically entwined” (from Polysecure by Jessica Fern).
What that often looks like (not always) is not sharing a home or finances with anyone, or not getting married – like myself. But it can look different depending on the person, so the best thing is to always ask the individual what solo poly means to them.
The “polyamory” part speaks to the practice of having many loves – poly means many, and amory means love – or at least being open to that. For me, I am open to having multiple partners where that romantic connection is present, although I’m also open to having some connections that might be more sexually based.
My solo polyamory journey
I started my exploration with solo poly in the summer of 2021. My intention then was to put the idea of monogamy on hold while I explored my relationship with, well, relationships.
I wasn’t committing to forgoing the exclusive lifestyle forever. But if I returned to monogamy, I wanted to do so because it was truly the honest path for me – versus just falling into the same ol’ because I’d been conditioned into believing that’s the only way I can do a “committed, serious” relationship.
At the time of my SoPo episode, I was about a year into exploring this lifestyle. And while it was still relatively new then after a lifetime of leaning monogamous, I felt serious enough about it to go public with my experiences on the podcast.
In that episode, I responded to 9 common questions and misperceptions about solo polyamory/polyamory:
- Why did you decide to explore polyamory?
- Solo polyamory sounds like dating with no commitment.
- How many people would you be seeing at one time?
- What if you want more (from your already married partner)?
- Don’t you ever get jealous?
- Maybe you just haven’t found the right one yet.
- You must have gotten really hurt in relationships to be doing this.
- Wow, it sounds complicated.
- Is polyamory easier or harder than monogamy?
Now, another year into practicing SoPo, I feel even more immersed in my solo polyamorousness (definitely a word). In this blog post, I’m going to touch on three of these questions/misperceptions from my current vantage point.
You can also read Part 2 of this post, where I dive into the misperception “You must have gotten really hurt in relationships to be doing solo polyamory.”
"Why do you choose to explore polyamory?"
In my "Exploring Solo Polyamory" episode, I responded to this question by describing how I got interested in learning about CNM and exploring solo polyamory soon thereafter – the reason being that I started dating someone who was in an open marriage.
Now, I can answer it from a more deeply intrinsic motivation: The biggest reason I continue choosing to practice polyamory is because it aligns with my core value of autonomy (or freedom).
Specifically, practicing nonhierarchical solo polyamory aligns with my desire to freely choose who I want to be in relationship with and pursue what I/we want that relationship to look like.
(I’ll be writing another blog post that shares more about nonhierarchical polyamory and relationship anarchy – you can follow me on Instagram @janicehoimages and @janicehocounselling to know when it drops!)
Also, at this point in my life, I feel like my standards are so damn high that if I were to be exclusive with just one dating partner, I’d likely feel unfulfilled hoping they’d check off all the boxes. I also find it hard now to wrap my brain around having sex with only one person for the rest of my life.
Practicing polyamory (and relationship anarchy) means I’m not relying on one person to fulfill all those needs – and I’ve loved experiencing that shift from being driven by codependent tendencies to building a community of people who (in sum) love, support, and excite me in the ways I need.
With that broadening of my intimate social circle, I’ve enjoyed meeting and learning from different types of dating partners who have unique personalities, strengths, quirks, desires (etc.). That includes experimenting in the bedroom in a variety of ways, discovering different kinks and fetishes, and exploring sides of me (domme, sub, and otherwise) that I might not otherwise with just one person.
"Don’t you ever get jealous?"
One of the most common responses I get about polyamory is “Don’t you ever get jealous?” The question is often followed up with: “I don't know if I could ever do polyamory. I’d be way too jealous.”
Almost two years into practicing polyamory, I can share the patterns I’ve noticed with any jealousy that has come up for me in dating.
Overall, I don’t get jealous on a consistent basis with any partners the way I used to when my anxious attachment trauma was continuously triggered in my past monogamous relationships, especially in anxious–avoidant dynamics.
I’ve worked on healing that anxious attachment wound for a long time now (and continue to), and don’t engage with anyone expressing a lot of avoidant tendencies, so I don’t struggle to the same extent anymore.
However, that wound can get activated at times, as is the nature with healing a lifelong trauma response pattern – understandably! Now if that happens, I’m usually immediately aware that it’s a trauma-related response (i.e., not wholly a reflection of the current relationship), and I take the time to process it.
This usually involves doing work with the child part of me that’s connected with this particular wound. denise chang shared about similar work they do with their child part in our episode, “Building Secure Attachment Through Healing Trauma + Solo Polyamory” (Episode 2, Season 4). Catch a snippet of our conversation below:
I’ve also had (rare) moments of experiencing jealousy – or envy – with a partner that’s not related to anxious attachment trauma, but rather the feeling is simply signaling a missing need or want, perhaps in that relationship but maybe more generally.
When that happens, I reflect on what that missing need might be. For example, once I heard my partner expressing a lot of emotion for his other partner – like in a pretty heated, impassioned way. In that moment, I felt surprised and a pinch of jealousy/envy.
When I took time to process those feelings, I realized the underlying need was that I longed to hear him express how he felt about me in a similarly emotional way – something he never really did, even though I knew he was quite attached to me. As an expressive and deeply feeling person, that type of communication makes me feel more connected with someone and is one of the most important ways I like to create intimacy in a relationship.
Once I understand what’s going on with the jealousy – which usually includes realizing that it’s not personal – I can then communicate my feelings and needs to my partner in a grounded way (if it needs to be shared). Maybe there’s a request attached to it, maybe not.
Personally, I love how much I’ve grown in this respect through practicing polyamory. Since the root of much of my past jealousy was trauma-related, the foundational work has been doing the trauma therapy to address my underlying fears of abandonment, low sense of self-worth, and so on.
Practicing polyamory has been an additional helpful layer in this process because it involves unlearning mononormative scripts around ideas of “ownership” and tying one’s sense of value to exclusivity.
Also, when you’re in a CNM relationship structure, if you feel jealousy, ideally you’ll have to think twice before resorting to controlling or restrictive measures with your partner to try and assuage your insecurities. (Although you can certainly experience some CNM peeps resorting to such measures in practice.)
"Solo polyamory sounds like dating with no commitment."
As I mentioned in my SoPo episode, some people (mis)perceive solo polyamory as dating with no commitment.
Sure, I can consider myself a “free agent” – literally no one has any say in how I go about my dating business. In a primary partnership, it’s not uncommon to see certain restrictions in place about how partners can interact with others, and/or there’s more basing decisions on how one’s primary feels about the other partner dating someone else.
I want none of that – and I’ll share more about why in my upcoming blog post on nonhierarchical solo polyamory and relationship anarchy – but that doesn’t equate to not wanting commitment.
In the past two years, I’ve had a couple of pretty serious relationships, as well as others where an effort was made to grow something “deeper.” A big part of my learning has been to shift from a heavy focus on labels, promises for the future, and structuring a relationship to afford a (usually false) sense of security to deeply examining the kinds of dynamics, exchanges, and interactions I experience with someone – you know, the actual “doing the relationship” part.
I’ve definitely proven that I’m more than willing to invest a significant amount of time, effort, thought, and emotional labor to build a meaningful relationship with someone and try to show up as my best self for them. I even did a couple’s therapy session with one of my partners – if that doesn’t say commitment, I don’t know what does!
Something that's changed since my SoPo episode is that now my dating profile says: “Only connect with me if you are polyamorous.” Before, I was much more open to dating monogamous-leaning guys if there was a mutual desire for a casual relationship.
While I might still allow for that to happen, I have much firmer boundaries now in not investing my time, money, and emotions in someone unless I see they have experience in polyamory, which includes doing the unlearning and learning work ultimately involved in the exploration.
This means my pool of dating options has narrowed considerably, and it might even look like I'm non-committal because it takes so much now for me to invest in someone. But this actually reflects both my commitment to practicing solo poly and my desire for building deep, meaningful connections that have a greater chance of lasting more than just a few short months.
Reflection
What are your thoughts on solo polyamory (or polyamory more broadly) as a relationship style?
Did any of this resonate with your own experiences? Or did it demystify some questions and misperceptions you might have had about polyamory/solo poly?
You can go even deeper with me on this topic in my “Exploring Solo Polyamory” episode on The Soul’s Work Podcast.
And read "Practicing Solo Polyamory (Part 2): Am I Doing It Out of Fear?" where I share my current thoughts on the common misperception “You must have gotten really hurt in relationships to be doing solo polyamory.”