A conversation about toxic monogamy culture | Part two
No One Can Be Everything for Anyone — And That’s Ok!
Accepting this liberating notion does not imply the necessity to be polyamorous
Yesterday, I posted part one of my reflections on a conversation I had with a friend’s husband who called me out as a hypocrite for challenging toxic monogamy culture on social media.
To recap, the man was of the opinion that I shouldn’t be allowed to promote polyamory since I have a child from a monogamous marriage. He insisted my way of life is damaging for young people and society in general.
Despite stating that my intention is not to preach polyamory, but rather to call out certain toxic beliefs perpetuated in our culture, he persisted. What it came down to was that the few times he’d heard me say that, “no one person can cover all of our needs and vice versa” or that “we can’t be everything for someone”, I was “directly implying the necessity to be polyamorous”.
I assured him that this was not what I mean when I say this, to which he requested that I dissect this sentence to help him understand. So here we go:
I was raised with the far too common belief that I’d grow up, meet my prince charming, and live happily ever after. This other half would fulfill me, perpetuating that I, and all of us, are simply halflings in the relentless search for completion — in the form of another half-person — one that fits us like a precisely cut puzzle piece. Together we perfect each other; we become one!
It’s a hopelessly romantic idea, but, akin to how real-life step-mothers are not notoriously evil and the young and fair are not all saints who communicate telepathically with animals, the idea of the one and only prince conquering the princess is a tall tale too.
I’m certainly not insinuating that it’s impossible to meet someone we get along with so well that we choose to spend our lives together. I’m simply acknowledging that it’s not so black and white and that as wonderful as it can be, it’s not just a bed of roses either. Anyone who’s ever been in a long-term monogamous relationship will attest to this, no matter how successful.
I found my assumed prince charming at twenty-three. Believing I had to be everything for him and he for me, I proceeded to learn as much about him as I could, assimilating whatever aspects I was lacking to be his perfect match.
Those familiar with my writing will already know that this relationship was toxic from the start. My future husband, a narcissist, and I, a co-dependent-leaning empath fit together like ketchup on pancakes — yet, we were unable to stay away from one another.
I’ve already chronicled my way through this decade-long affair, but what it left me with was this: I’d spent so long trying to become like him so he’d love me more, fulfill his every need, and tiptoe around his insecurities that I’d completely forgotten what was important to me. Our relationship was lined with jealousy, insecurity, and every other unhealthy behavior outlined in the Instagram story.
Still, when it ended, I felt like I’d failed. I hadn’t managed to be his everything. It took me a while to understand that this is neither possible nor healthy—That there is no one perfect puzzle piece out there for each of us!
Fast forward a couple of years, a dear friend shared that his approach to relationships changed completely when he accepted that no one could be everything for him. Contrary, he experienced it as a relief that he was not expected, or able to be, everything for another person either.
Hearing him say these words filled me with a sense of peace. Immediately adopting these views for myself, a ton of weight was lifted off my shoulders.
I realized that I am complete in myself—I am enough!
I see this argument as one neither for nor against polyamory. Instead, I believe it to be a prerequisite for any healthy interpersonal relationship. Without seeing ourselves, and others, as separate, complete beings, it’s hard to relate in a healthful, non-codependent way.
To embody this, I had to learn that I am enough and whole in myself; that I need to make myself happy first without relying on someone to do it for me. From thereon, I integrated the belief that any other person I chose to involve is not a necessity but a bonus — like a cherry on top.
The more we know and accept ourselves, we start to see what’s important to us in relationships; what we can and can’t offer, and where we need to be met.
We’re not puzzle pieces—More like sets of building blocks
As opposed to pre-cut puzzle pieces, I now see all of us more like individual boxes of assorted lego. When we connect, we can compare our contents to decide whether we have enough compatible pieces to raise the type of structure we envision. Throughout this process, we’ll acknowledge that no matter what, there will always be some holes and gaps.
How we chose to deal with these gaps depends on the kind of lifestyle and relationship model we choose for ourselves. In any case, we should accept that there will still be compromises.
The so-called holes and gaps I’m talking about are not exclusively about sexual needs and desires, as my debater insisted I meant. They may have to do with our beliefs, interests, and lifestyle choices such as preferred activities, diet preferences, sleep schedules, and so on. And, yes, they can be sexual in nature too.
No one expects (or, at least should expect) their partner(s) to share all of their interests or ways of life. Still, it is up to all of us to decide which things matter most. For example, for one person, it could be essential that their partner shares their love for hiking, but they don’t care if they share the same eating habits. Someone else could choose to find a separate hiking buddy and instead focus on coming home and cooking a delicious meal with their partner.
There’s always a price of admission
When it comes to sexual needs and incompatibilities, we all face these. If we’ve decided to be monogamous, our (ethical) choice is between finding ways to meet our partner’s needs or foregoing them. The latter is also a valid option; no one has to have all of their desires fulfilled in order to thrive. This is the price of admission when we choose monogamy, and to many, this is worth the stability and safety the framework provides.
If we choose any version of ethical non-monogamy, we have the added option of finding another, or others, with whom we can address those desires. This lifestyle choice comes with another set of challenges and compromises, and again, it’s up to each of us to decide what type of price we’re willing to pay.
How do we deal with change?
Returning to the building block metaphor; as part of knowing ourselves and deciding what matters to us, we usually weigh what we can and can’t live with as we enter into any arrangement, whether it be a monogamous one or not. On the other hand, it’s unrealistic to believe that the person we paired up with in your twenties will remain consistent decades down the road; change is inevitable and though it’s sometimes intimidating, especially when it concerns our intimate partners, it can present a beautiful opportunity to grow together. Besides, who’d rather stagnate?
If we’re already comfortable with, or learn to accept, the notion that we can never be everything or fulfill each other’s every need, we’re far better equipped to deal with these inevitable evolvements.
Relationship guru Esther Perel who endorses polyamory, but adds that “it’s not for everybody,” is known for saying that nowadays “we’re asking one person to give us what an entire village used to provide”. There has never been more pressure on us as individuals to be the alpha and omega for the other:
Never before has the couple been such a central unit in our social organization. Never have we expected more from our intimate relationships, and never have we crumbled under the weight of so many expectations.
We can be enough without being everything!
I have utter compassion for the fact that the notion that we can’t be everything is triggering when we’ve been programmed to believe that we should, or else we’re failures. I understand why the phase scares my friend’s husband, and personally, I would also have pushed back when I was with my ex because I believed my worth was tied up in my value to him.
When clinging to this doctrine, it’s easy to draw the conclusion that not being everything means not being enough, which are two different things. We can be, and are, enough without being everything.
There are healthy and toxic displays of any relationship model
When choosing ethical non-monogamy, the idea is not to compartmentalize our needs into different partners to build a Frankenstein version of our fairytale prince(ss) because we can’t find one person to cover it all. Polyamory doesn’t equate to a refusal to be consistent or make a commitment in the favor of jumping haphazardly and carelessly from one person to the next.
In the same way, choosing monogamy doesn’t mean that we cease to be attracted to anyone else forever, or that we’ll automatically live happily ever after.
You’ll find healthy and noxious manifestations of both monogamy and polyamory, yet it’s a false belief that the only valid way to live, be committed, raise a family or express true love is between two exclusively attached people. If anything, infidelity and divorce statistics should be testament enough that this is certainly not working for everyone.
After my interaction with my friend’s husband, I decided, out of curiosity, to go through every one of my previous Instagram stories to see where he got the idea that I’m such an eager proponent of polyamory. Confirming what I suspected, before this one post, I had never posted a single one that mentioned either the word polyamory or monogamy. Instead, numerous stories talk about self-love and self-completion.
As someone who’s not dead-set on any relationship model as the right one, the only thing I am sure about is that our relationship with ourselves is the number one most important to cultivate. Therefore, accepting that we are enough, despite not ever being the be-all and end-all to anyone, is the single most powerful act of love there is.
© Ena Dahl 2021
Read the first part of this conversation here:
