Spoiler: I could not.
Some of you may remember Alfalfa, my lovely partner (if abysmal hinge), and Broccoli, their spouse (and my supposed friend) who was struggling with polyamory. This somewhat serves as an update to my previous post: Can polyamory work when one partner’s distress (i.e., the hinge's response to it) keeps indirectly limiting another relationship?.
Well, I ended it. I'm pretty damned devastated. I loved Alfalfa more deeply than I've ever loved anyone. Our relationship was extraordinary; unfortunately, it was also unsustainable.
And the worst part? I saw the red flags! Highly enmeshed married couple? Check. Newish to poly (though not ENM, to be fair)? Check. Friendship with meta and KTP practically mandatory? Check. Plus a few more, to be sure.
But we were smart! Emotionally sophisticated! Excellent communicators! Surely we could overcome all that with empathy and superior problem-solving skills.
Uh, yeah, no.
Some lessons to follow, in case anyone would prefer to skip the practical component of this particular educational experience.
1. Ask what autonomy actually looks like. But believe the evidence, not words.
Alfalfa loved me deeply and genuinely wanted an independent relationship. But wanting something and being able to deliver it are different things. Can your partner make and keep plans independently? Protect dates and overnights? Make independent decisions about intimacy? Maintain agreements with you when their spouse is distressed?
Our relationship was perpetually subject to Broccoli's frequently intense and urgent feelings of distress. Dates, affection, communication, sexual intimacy, activity choices… nothing was reliably ours. Even outdoor walks and cooking fish became contentious because those were activities Broccoli did with Alfalfa. Apparently Broccoli had called dibs on nature. And salmon.
I kept investing energy into our promised future instead of evaluating our present reality.
And while I'm furious with Broccoli for their demands, difficulty with self-regulation, emotional coercion, and how they treated our friendship, Alfalfa was ultimately responsible for the commitments they made and failed to keep.
2. State your needs. Then enforce your boundaries.
I needed (very reasonably, I think) predictable time, privacy, autonomy over how our relationship developed, transparency around any constraints that Alfalfa was enforcing, and agreements that actually held. I communicated all of that, repeatedly, so repeatedly. With considerable empathy and some frankly impressive emotional and logical contortionism.
What I didn't do effectively (at least to start) was decide what I would do when my needs weren't met. I wish I'd established earlier what meaningful change would look like, how long I'd wait, and what I'd do if it didn't happen.
A boundary isn't just an exceptionally well-articulated request. Go figure!
3. Your metamour's feelings are valid. Their demands aren't necessarily reasonable.
Broccoli's distress was real. So was mine.
But Broccoli's distress seemed to necessitate Alfalfa changing my relationship, while mine apparently meant I needed better coping skills in response to the changes (per Broccoli, as directly communicated to me).
Broccoli was absolutely entitled to decide polyamory wasn't for them. Monogamy or another flavour of ENM are perfectly respectable choices! What's not respectable is declaring support for an independent relationship while actively working to undermine it. And, after more than a decade of enjoying nonmonogamy for themselves, I would have hoped for a little more recognition of the double standard.
4. Don't accept compulsory friendship as the price of admission.
I felt pressure from both Alfalfa and Broccoli to form a friendship with Broccoli. I unwisely agreed and genuinely came to care about Broccoli.
Meanwhile, Broccoli was privately and constantly asking Alfalfa to make our relationship smaller while telling me they supported us and would never try to control my experience, which is a pretty shitty way to treat a friend.
Friendship should be freely chosen, not a condition of dating anyone. I knew this, though I apparently needed to conduct further research.
5. Being understanding is not an Olympic sport. You do not get extra points for endurance.
I was patient; I empathized; I accommodated; I proposed solutions; I gave everyone the benefit of the doubt; I was, humbly, a fucking delight to negotiate with.
And my relationship kept shrinking. At some point, patience stops being a virtue and becomes an elaborate way of avoiding a decision you don't want to make. You don't get a medal for it.
6. Sometimes the breakup tells you what the relationship was costing you.
I'm devastated. I miss Alfalfa terribly. I love them and I still fantasize about us somehow making it work. But the anxiety I've carried for months has largely disappeared. I'm sad as fuck, but I'm no longer bracing myself for the next crisis, restriction, or amended plan.
So there you have it. Over year of extraordinary love and connection, increasingly absurd restrictions, and proof that recognizing red flags doesn't make you immune to them. How rude to discover. Turns out the conventional wisdom exists for a reason... who knew? (Besides nearly everyone in this sub.)
I welcome others' musings or learnings or reflections on becoming involved in highly enmeshed folks. Or questions for me/ my experience if you think I can help you avoid a similar trainwreck.