Going from “My Person” to Poly

A healthy culture is a polyamorous one.

‘Well, he’s just My Person!’

The twinkle in her eye and the warm glow that emanated from her body when she talked about her husband of many years was palatable. I found it sad. Sad that she only had one ‘my person’ in her life. Sad that she was finding all her self worth in the concept of emotional and physical ownership of another person, and sad because it was a complete fallacy, at least in the way she was conceiving it. I knew her husband had been having a raging sexting volley with a friend of mine.

Our culture has a tendency to repackage bad ideas instead of just throwing them out in the trash. The concept of ‘My Person’ is the latest cheap wrapping paper we’ve put around the exclusive romantic relationship. We used to call it a ‘Soulmate.’

I remember when I was in my twenties, during the Soulmate craze. I absolutely couldn’t wait to find my SOUL in another person. It was so freaking romantic to think that someone was literally carrying around the core of me and when we met I would find myself snuggled inside of them. Even more powerful was the thought that I was carrying someone else’s soul around in me, and when I met him I would get to give it back to him as the most profound gift he would ever receive. Hitting the Soulmate jackpot meant we would actually be meeting ourselves, because we were essentially sharing one soul divided into two bodies. This is as close to ego-crack as it gets.

As modern day spiritual guru Colin Bedell points out, the definition of Soulmate in classical literature was indeed God. As my generation (Gen X) came of age, modern religious practice was in a free fall, and romantic relationships started filling the spiritual vacuum, taking its place as the new religion it is today. In this religion we ask one person to give us that which a grounded spiritual practice once did: ecstasy, transcendence, continuity, belonging, and relief from the fear inherent in life. We ask them to give us our soul.

At least back in my early days we were a little more magical. As per its lineage, Soulmate had an air of sacred mystery around it. As if the discovery of your one and only were as exciting as what you would get from the relationship that followed. The ‘My Person’ vernacular heads straight for the ownership part. Don’t bother with the magic, get straight to the goods.

Whether you call it Soulmate or My Person, the concept supports several underlying premises in our most intimate, adult relationships that doom them to a slow decline, relationship purgatory, and many times, failure. Let us begin to unwrap them.

People Aren’t Property

The reason I cringe everytime I hear the ‘My Person’ phrase is that it supports the most dehumanizing, and thus problematic part of monogamy culture; ownership. If you think I am overreacting, or just not getting it, stop to consider that language is at the core of how we build perception in our minds and the world around us. When your love ceases to become Frank or Mary or Lita, and simply becomes ‘your person,’ you essentially valuate them not for who they intrinsically are, but for how they service you. This dehumanization has a slow corrosive effect.

Have you ever heard someone struggling in a long-term relationship say that they’re not sure who they are anymore? That’s likely because when they became a ‘My Person’ they stopped connecting to themselves in favor of connecting to their partner. They fully adopted and invested in becoming a partner, not becoming themselves. Things become subliminally transactional when you move into ‘My Person’ status. It’s not a surprise. We are told to do so from the moment of our initiation into romantic relationships; usually with the first animated movie we see around the age of three or four.

However, if you’re interested in a long lasting relationship I would recommend you work to deprogram yourself immediately. Start by celebrating your love not for the fact that they are yours, but for all the wonderful ways they are themselves. Consider introducing them by their name first, instead of by the role they play in your life. Be diligent in always supporting who they are as sovereign human beings. When you do this, you support their self esteem and show them that their value encompasses all the things that they are, not just their role as your partner. Supporting autonomy is one of the best strategies you can employ for supporting a healthy relationship.

Everyone Sails Alone, But We Can Travel Side by Side

Does it feel good to be claimed by a person and wake up every morning feeling that someone will consider you and likely put you first in every decision they make? Sure, it does. So does snorting a line of coke (so I’ve been told). Just as with other dopamine enhancing experiences, ‘My Person’ devotion has a law of diminishing returns and when you hit bottom, you hit hard.

The problem is that these fundamental markers of specialness in a relationship — being number one, being the only — often change or disappear all together. In less ethically precarious cases, a child or demanding job enters the picture, causing a partner’s focus to shift. In more tragic circumstances a partner finds someone else, or unfortunately, can even pass away. You become dependent on the carriers and they can’t keep delivering.

We’re conditioned to respond to this shift with sacrifice, and thus begins the death spiral of many relationships. This is because if you have trained yourself to stay spiritually focused on someone and resist change, when the inevitable change happens, you don’t have the internal resources to sustain yourself. All you have is your dependency, and dependency is not firm ground to stand on in a relationship.

This mentality also supports denial. Instead of investing in a living, breathing, complex relationship many people invest in the role they were given when they became The One. Partners so entrenched in this narrative often miss when change starts to occur and they are blind-sided with the abrupt nature of it through an affair or sudden parting. Hindsight often reveals signs of trouble, but when you’re playing Cinderella or Prince Charming it’s easy to miss them. Conversely, many partners hide their authentic selves with a perfected ‘My Person’ performance, breaking or slowly suffocating under the weight of it. It’s frighteningly easy to play a role as opposed to really being ourselves when growth and change start to manifest in our lives. Constructing a narrative of independence and growth will serve couples far better in my view.

This starts with moving to a context that supports healthy receiving, not being needy. I define healthy receiving as enjoying the support of a partner, and others, without becoming emotionally dependent on it. For example, can you enjoy the sexual attention and compliments from your partner without those becoming the basis of your self esteem? Can you acknowledge and honor the special role you have in your partner’s life without it diminishing all the other ways you are special, or requiring that no other person bring joy and unique experience to your partner’s life? My experience has taught me that the only way to forge a healthy relationship is to be the keeper of your own special and celebrate the special of your partner independent of yourself. I’m not saying this is easy, but the fruit of this labor is more sustainable and lasting than the alternative.

The hard reality is that at the end of the day we exist in this world for eternity with one person and one person alone- ourselves. This doesn’t require that we be lonely or solitary. It does require that we accept responsibility for our soul, and its peace, so that we can share it with those we love.

Reject the Scarcity of Love

So many people were using this term, I was ready to accept that maybe I’d missed something important in the translation. I asked my friend to drill down on the ‘My Person’ moniker for me as she used it quite often.

“What exactly does that mean?” I quipped.

“Well, he just knows me… completely. He’s always got my back. We’re in it together, you know? I just know that he’s the one person who will always be there for me and love me unconditionally.”

This is where I pulled the red flag out of my purse. The one I carry around for occasions just like this one. I threw it in the air like an NFL ref at the Super Bowl.

“Okay, well what about your parents? Do they know you completely, love you unconditionally and will always be there for you? And what about your best friend? Doesn’t Jane (yes, that’s not her real name) meet these qualifications?”

“Well, they do, but I don’t fuck them.”

“Oh… right. So, he makes you come. That’s why he’s your person? But wait . . . you make yourself come, know yourself, always have your back and love yourself unconditionally. Why aren’t you your own person?” I said as I collected the flag from the floor.

You may think I was being daft at this point, but I was making a serious point. The “My Person” trope limits profound love to a tiny box, in my friend’s case that box is her vagina. When you spend some time single, celibate, or in a relationship where the sex has gone south, you have the opportunity to realize the infinite nature of love. Love doesn’t exist in just one person or one context with one purpose. Putting it there diminishes its power. When you do this it leaves you vulnerable, which is ironic since most people use the “My Person” frame to feel safe in life not make them more exposed to pain.

I like to put it this way. I have a deep bench. I don’t have a ‘my person.’ I have ‘my people.’ Multiple people who take care of me in multiple, significant ways and that doesn’t diminish the special nature of any of those relationships. If anything it makes me appreciate the diversity and abundance even more. Additionally love doesn’t belong in a hierarchy. When you do this you are wrongly reaffirming that there is a finite amount of love to support you and that one love is more critical than the others to support your health. This can lead to undo pressure on one relationship and the devaluation of others.

A deep bench also makes me feel more emotionally secure and behave in a more healthy way with my lover. When people adopt exclusivity with regard to love they immediately shut the door on experiencing the full nature of it. This isn’t simply a question of sexual monogamy. It’s a question of emotional stability, because when you live believing that you can only be fundamentally and fully supported by one person, you adopt a scarcity mindset. When you think you only have one resource for this type of profound love and support you will act in ways to hoard it, suppress its growth, and ultimately suffocate it.

Deprogramming Yourself

I mentioned that deprogramming our mindset is hard work. I like to keep these statements handy whenever I feel the fear of scarcity, confront inevitable change or slip into unhealthy dependence. I hope you will find value in them as well.

• I am worthy of love, independent of who I receive it from.
• I am unique, interesting and beautiful independent of who believes I am all of these things.
• I have many opportunities to receive support, protection, affection and understanding in my world and I can cultivate that in infinite amounts.
• Many people will touch and feed my soul in a variety of ways. Accepting this love from one source doesn’t diminish it from another source.
• I am a living entity and by nature will grow and change. This will affect my relationships and that is ok. Eternal love doesn’t mean unchanged love.
• Love supports growth regardless of outcomes. If it isn’t growing, it isn’t loving.
• I am The One. The one who is the owner and thus responsible for the fullness and health of my soul.