Jessie Burke has been an artist-in-residence with VMH since the Summer of 2020.

Notes on Polyamory - Part Two.

by Jessie Burke

Imagine a tower of champagne flutes being filled (That top one is getting pretty full isn’t it?) What will happen when it overflows? (The overflow will fill the cups surrounding it and spill over into the cups surrounding those, and so on…) 

This is my favourite example for love in abundance as it so succinctly demonstrates the benefit to a steady stream of love and support. The surrounding cups are your loved ones, you are the top cup.

When my primary relationship ended, I dove into apartment listings and within a week-and-a-half of the break-up, I had secured a new spot to live. No easy feat on one’s own, but my best friend was returning from life in another city and the timing could not have been more of a saviour for both of us, as renting in Toronto is not for the faint of wallet (unless you can share, or snag an affordable space as soon as it lists) This felt like a bright start, despite the cloud of heartache that followed me around.

I was offered help with moving from sympathetic friends (and packing took less time than I thought it would, in part due to rage and fastidious housekeeping) All things considered I was kicking the ass of this break-up.

Amidst all the commotion, I was still in an active relationship outside of the one that was in ruins. This relationship was still in its “new relationship energy” phase (read: we were obsessed with each other) It made our time together during moments of grief particularly confusing. I had grieved many breakups with my primary partner, but I had never grieved my primary partner to any other of my partners before. 

As always, being honest about where my feelings were, moment to moment, was essential in maintaining my connection to this person (and to advocate for myself as well on what I needed, in order to honour what I had just lost) Things remained smooth and steady and even improved in other areas of my life. So why was I beginning to feel like I should prepare for some soul crushing reality check? 

This had been too manageable. 

Even when it was unmanageable, the support system I had made room and held space for me to navigate all the bumps this experience had to offer, and still come out (relatively) unscathed.

While I know that a security in one’s solitude can beget healthy attachment, I caught myself feeling guilty for not being partnerless whilst going through this major life adjustment. That I was “cheating” by way of not having to wean off of love or affection. 

I remind myself often that this feeling is due to the widely held belief and social conditioning that love is scarce (briefly mentioned in Notes on Polyamory: Part One) and that you must fight to earn your scrap of it as (if it is lost) you may never find it again.

“You cannot love someone until you love yourself”, “you have to be alone with yourself before you can share yourself with another''. 

We’ve all heard some version of this before, but why do we hold such contempt over polyamory/enm as a lovestyle? 

Am I wrong to have desires beyond my consensually open relationship? Is anyone wrong to have desires beyond their chosen partner? It’s okay to say that I would fuck some celebrity if given a pass, but I can’t admit that the waiter from brunch that morning was attractive?

Western social culture dictates that the difference between these two desires is that the one involving the celebrity is “okay” because of the unlikeliness of the event, when in actuality, a crush is a crush. I wonder sometimes how okay some folks would be if their partner actually had a chance with their celebrity pass.

Sometimes people like the idea of something more than they like the reality. That doesn’t mean that you’ve found happiness in something wrong or inherently bad, just because it challenges the ideas some folks around you may have concerning aspects of themselves or their relationships. 

I feel an urgency when I express to those experiencing a polyam breakup how important it is to surround yourself with people who advocate for your love style. It’s natural in times of emotional turmoil to begin questioning your choices, and your belief systems as a result of heavy times.

It’s tricky stuff - that grief, and having a community to check in with (and receive support from) can help ease the odd feeling of guilt often associated with grieving a breakup while partnered. 

I saw these sentiments expressed in another great Instagram called @marjanilane (for those seeking education and encouragement surrounding polyamory and non-monogamy)

Having a community to confide in can help you to feel supported while avoiding comments or questions like:

“Oh well, at least you still have (other partner’s name)”

“How can you be dating right now? Aren’t you heartbroken?”

“If you guys were already dating other people anyway, how can you say he was cheating?”

While curiosity is fine, the stigma and shame that often drive that curiosity are frequently peppered into the mix when discussing polyam/enm, and this can leave the person on the receiving end questioning the validity of their experiences.

I find that even while in a happy and contented non-monogamous dynamic, there are still twinges of shame once in a while at the mention of a new date or an anecdote about a different, current partner. Of course, none of this is due to any of my partner's behaviours or feelings surrounding this action, but rather to do with what happens when we internalise receiving love in a rationed way.

We are taught from an early age that pleasure in abundance makes us greedy (and this includes our physical experiences) Later in life these teachings can manifest as an urge to tip-toe around our desire for openness and how we want to share ourselves with others, as the notion that we want too much, or require too much lives deeply inside of us, tainting the joy acquired when we do receive that level of love we need.

While I can’t help that scarcity and love rationing were what once filled my cup, I can replace those easily with the affection and support I receive from my loved ones on a daily basis. I can accept all kinds of love as equal love, and be fulfilled - not fearful, at the abundance of it.

It is important to note that we must be mindful of what is going in our cup, as we now understand that the overflow will pour onto those around us and create impact. Take stock of what fills your cup - do you see any correlation to how you relate to others in your life? Is it actually champagne that’s pouring or is it just Baby Duck?

(Or even worse, is it piss and vinegar?)