Significant Others: Aspec, Polyamory and Relationship Anarchy

Let’s talk about love. As a word in English, it encompasses a vast spectrum of emotions, blurring the boundaries between fondness and obsession, companionship and lust, and even platonic and romantic affection. Without a clear context, the phrase ‘I love you’ can have a wide range of meanings – such as a confession to a significant other, an expression of fondness between friends, or a nice way to say goodbye to a family member. That space between meanings can be confusing but also empowering – especially in relationships which do not make a clear-cut division between being platonic and/or romantic and/or sexual.

Love means different things to different people, and as I worked on this essay I found myself struggling to articulate my own perspective without commenting on wider social norms that have influenced my life. This essay’s perspective is limited to my own experience and certainly does not speak for everyone who identifies as asexual, polyamorous and/or as a relationship anarchist – but I hope that it will give those readers a sense that they are not alone in trying to make a place for themselves in the world of relationships.

An asexual person is someone who experiences little or no sexual attraction. There is a whole spectrum of identities relating to asexuality and aromanticism (experiencing little or no romantic attraction).[1] The term arospec covers anyone on the aromantic spectrum, the term acespec covers anyone on the asexual spectrum, and the term aspec is an umbrella term that covers anyone on the aromantic or asexual spectrum.

A romantic-sexual relationship, for the purposes of this essay, denotes a relationship that is assumed to be romantic and sexual in nature. However, romantic relationships can and do exist without sexual elements, and likewise sexual relationships can and do exist without romantic elements.

Throughout this essay, I will use significant other to mean ‘person in a relationship of some kind that they consider significant – not necessarily romantic, sexual or monogamous’.

A polyamorous person is someone who may have many significant others simultaneously, in contrast with a monogamous person, who will have one significant other at a time. In my culture, most people will spend their life as ‘serial monogamists,’ typically in a romantic-sexual relationship model, having romantic-sexual relationships with one person at a time. (This is probably a pretty typical norm for a white middle-class British person). However, romantic-sexual infidelity is more commonplace than one might think – despite being considered taboo by most monogamous people. In 2015, a YouGov survey of 1660 British adults found that 33% of their respondents had considered having an affair, and 20% of respondents had actually had an affair.[2]

Cheating is when someone breaks the expectation of emotional or sexual fidelity without consulting or informing their significant other(s) beforehand. Polyamory is the practice of consensual, ethical and responsible non-monogamy. It involves consulting one’s significant others about pursuing a new relationship while the existing relationship(s) are ongoing. This gives the other people agency to respond to the changing situation, whereas cheating robs the other people of agency by not giving them the knowledge they require to make an informed decision on whether they want to stay in the relationship. Cheating can also put someone at risk of having an STI be transmitted from a partner who they thought did not have any, whereas part of ethical polyamory is taking responsibility for protecting your partners’ wellbeing in terms of sexual health. This may take the form of safer sex practices, only having sexual contact within an established group of people with clean sexual health backgrounds, or simply getting tested after sexual encounters with different partners to ensure that nothing is unwittingly transmitted to another person.

In this essay, I am mainly discussing non-hierarchical polyamory because that is the model I have experience of. I personally do not feel comfortable attempting to take a stance on hierarchical polyamory – but here is a brief overview for the sake of context. In a hierarchical model, one group or pair is set up as more important than their significant others – this tends to occur when there is a previously monogamous relationship that one or both parties wishes to protect by creating ‘rules’. Someone in the primary partnership may choose to ‘veto’ a secondary relationship or place limitations on their primary partner’s interactions with a secondary partner. Some people criticise this model as being restrictive or controlling, and dislike that it treats secondary relationships as less important than the primary relationship (which one can imagine might not feel great for the secondary partner or partners). However, since I’ve never been in a hierarchical polyamorous relationship, I feel it would be unfair for me to dismiss it or neglect to mention it, since perhaps it will strike a chord with a reader or give them terms to describe their own experiences. If it works for you and your partners, then congratulations to you all on finding a relationship model that suits you! Regardless, understanding hierarchical polyamory provides a good context for understanding non-hierarchical polyamory, where no individual relationship is given precedence over another. This ties in strongly to relationship anarchy.

Relationship anarchy is the practice of not ranking relationships based on their perceived importance or romantic or sexual elements, but rather taking each relationship on its own terms and on its own merits. It involves considering each relationship as a unique dynamic that is not constrained by social norms such as ‘only lovers kiss/hold hands/co-parent’, ‘you should only have one partner at a time’, ‘friends are less important than romantic and/or sexual partners’ and so on. Relationship anarchists do not take things for granted, but instead ask their partners what they want from a given relationship and form an agreement on how that relationship can be expressed. There is typically a heavy focus on enthusiastic informed consent in relationship anarchy. Rather than creating supposedly-inviolable ‘rules’, there is a focus on creating expectations and setting out possible consequences if those expectations are broken – this allows each person a sense of agency and an awareness of what violating the agreed framework might entail. It is important to note that the principles of relationship anarchy can apply to any relationship model – it’s all about asking and agreeing on things, rather than assuming them from a shared concept of a ‘prototypical’ relationship model.

For someone like myself, the conventional world of dating and relationship expectations can be baffling. As an asexual polyamorous relationship anarchist, the only way I can make sense of relationships is that they are what the people in them want them to be. This means that if I want to invite someone to be my significant other, I have to make sure I explain my stance carefully from the outset. Simply saying ‘do you want to go out with me?’ carries a lot of implicit assumptions: that the dynamic I am talking about will be romantic, sexual, exclusively monogamous, higher priority than friendship, and could potentially lead to this person and I spending the rest of our lives together if it goes extremely well. However, that model does not work for me. Instead, I have to have a conversation that goes something like this:

ME: Hey, so have you ever heard of relationship anarchy?

THEM: No, what’s that?

ME: Well… [hands over a pre-printed card with a list of definitions and FAQs, along with an explanation of the differences between emotional, romantic and sexual attraction] Basically it means that instead of assuming what ‘a relationship’ is, you talk about it. For example, I’m asexual, which means I don’t fancy people. That can make it hard to figure out what kind of relationship I want with someone when I’m just getting to know them. So instead of jumping into the conventional romantic-sexual relationship model, I say ‘hey, you seem really cool and I like you a lot – I’m not sure exactly how I want to express that yet, but would you be interested in spending more time together?’

THEM: Sounds unusual, but kind of interesting, I guess. So… why are you telling me this?

ME: Well, you seem really cool and I like you a lot. I figured I should explain myself a bit before I asked you to [go to the movies/play videogames/get hot chocolate] with me. Oh, and I should also mention that I have several people I’m really close to already – like, in a relationship anarchy way. Would that bother you?

THEM: Uh… I don’t know, honestly. This is pretty new territory for me.

ME: That’s fair. Let me know if you have any questions, or just want some time to mull it over. And no worries if you’d rather not – I just wanted to make sure I explained where I’m coming from properly.

Admittedly, it’s not the height of conventional romance, but I have found that this approach tends to work well for opening up discussion about relationships and friendships and what the person I’m talking to wants from them. And yes, I really have made handouts for this situation and given them out – and I’ve gained several successful long-term relationships as a result! Being upfront and honest about my feelings also creates a sense of trust and helps my potential significant other feel less vulnerable in doing the same. In my opinion, that’s much more useful than sweeping them off their feet and letting social norms dictate the rest!

If you’re not aspec or polyamorous, you may be wondering if relationship anarchy is really relevant to you. Perhaps you’re comfortable with the conventional romantic-sexual model, or you have no issue with the common expectation of monogamy, or you’re just not sure how you’d go about putting these ideas into practice. Regardless of your labels or orientations, it’s a good idea to understand the principles of relationship anarchy because they’re about setting consensual expectations and communicating well. Also, if a relationship anarchist ever wants to become your significant other, you can help them feel understood and accepted by saying something like ‘oh yeah, relationship anarchy – I’ve heard of that. What kind of relationship models are you interested in?’ I for one would be delighted if I ever got that response, rather than polite bafflement!

The high-priority monogamous romantic-sexual model can work for many people, which is partly why it dominates media representations of love, but not everyone will find that it suits them. For many people, the most important relationships in their life change over time so even if they prioritise a romantic-sexual partner for a long while, their friends and family can become more important later on – this is especially relevant when it comes to break-ups or raising a child. For people who are not interested in pursuing relationships of this nature or who prefer casual relationships, it can be frustrating to experience social pressure to ‘find someone special’ as a romantic-sexual partner and make them the centre of your life. This can also lead to overreliance on one individual for emotional support, weakening a person’s wider support network and creating a devastating impact on mental and emotional wellbeing in the event of a break-up.

Furthermore, some people may find the romantic-sexual model will never fit them quite right in the first place. This is especially relevant to people who feel they experience romantic attraction to one group and sexual attraction to another (e.g. heteroromantic homosexuals) or experience one form of attraction but not another (e.g. aromantic pansexuals, panromantic asexuals). There is a robust ongoing debate about alternative models and descriptors to discuss these experiences, with various pros and cons.[3] While this is interesting in its own right, the short conclusion is that each individual will have a different perspective on how they perceive their own experiences and how they choose to label themself (if at all).

In response to growing awareness that the dominant model does not work for everyone, people have begun to reassess their concepts of significant others and the types of relationships they want. The aspec community has created a (predominantly online) space for in-depth discussion and contemplation about what relationships that don’t subscribe to the norm can be like.[4]

For those who have a strong connection with someone that is non-romantic in nature, the term queerplatonic has been coined to describe such relationships. It stems from the idea of ‘queering’ what is conventionally assumed when you label a relationship as non-romantic – getting away from the idea that being ‘just friends’ is a lesser status than ‘more than friends’. A queerplatonic relationship is defined as non-romantic by its participants, but may well contain behaviours that are typically associated with the romantic-sexual model: being a high-priority relationship in someone’s life (sometimes taking precedence over romantic interests); being physically demonstrative (holding hands, cuddling, kissing) and in some cases having a sexual relationship too. Every queerplatonic relationship is different and the ways it is expressed vary hugely depending on what the individuals in the relationship have agreed on.

So what might polyamorous relationship anarchy look like in practice? First off, everyone must be on board for it to work – communication and consent is the difference between ethical polyamory and ‘cheating’. Here’s an example.

Suppose you have a best friend who you are very close to, and who becomes your queerplatonic partner (QPP). Your relationship is non-romantic in nature, but you have a strong emotional connection and are the most important person in the world to them and vice versa. (You each now have one significant other.)

Suddenly, they’ve got a crush on someone. They tell you about it and ask for your advice, checking in with you for your consent before making a move to further their romantic prospects. They’re planning on telling their new crush about your relationship, which makes you feel a little better about your standing in the new dynamic. You experience a sudden burst of insecurity – what if their new partner is better for them than you are? What if your treasured relationship becomes one-sided? What if they decide to leave you if this person has really strict standards of emotional fidelity? It’s a little awkward to talk about, but you work through it together and your QPP reassures you how much you matter to them. You wish them good luck with their new romance, but reserve the right to talk to them again about it if you find yourself struggling with jealousy or insecurity in future. (You still have one significant other, but your QPP now has two significant others.)

When you find yourself about to start a casual sexual relationship, you take a moment out to think. Should I let my QPP know? Should I tell this person about my QPP? Is it going to make things awkward between us? Well, five minutes of cringey conversation is still better than hurting two people’s feelings by cheating on them, so you tell your prospective sexual partner about your QPP. You explain how much you care about them and don’t want either party to think you aren’t being honest with them. Your prospective sexual partner is a bit thrown by this and decides you should pick things up with them another evening, after you’ve spoken to your QPP and given them both a bit of time to process things. Later, you find out your prospective casual partner messaged your QPP to check you were in earnest about your unusual relationship, and since your QPP seems fine with you two being sexually involved, they concluded there’s no issue – the casual relationship is good to go after all. (You now have two significant others, as does your QPP.)

In this example, communication is being used to make sure that all parties in this polyamorous group are aware of each other’s relationships and have a chance to express their concerns. Everyone is given enough information to be able to knowingly consent to being in a polyamorous relationship – and crucially, this is given early so they can opt out if they wish to.

Why might someone wish to opt out of a polyamorous relationship? Well, for many people, insecurity in a relationship can make them deeply uncomfortable. Knowing your partner has a network of significant others can make you feel less vital to their wellbeing, therefore making you feel less secure in your position of importance to them. Insecurity refers to the emotional state caused by uncertainty and anxiety that leads to feelings of discomfort. When left unaddressed, these (sometimes subconscious) feelings often lead to the heightened state of negative emotional response known as jealousy.

Talking to a significant other about feelings of insecurity can do a lot to alleviate their effects. The best-case scenario is that good communication helps to minimise the insecurity to the point of it being negligible. However, people with anxiety disorders or a strong desire for monogamy may struggle with these feelings more than others. Reflecting on the insecurities that may have sparked the feeling of jealousy can still be a helpful way of processing the emotion – and discovering the root of the issue so it can be discussed with a significant other – so in any case it’s well worth trying to learn how to better understand your feelings and theirs in this regard.

Jealousy is something I can’t really comment on from my own perspective because, while I occasionally experience insecurity, I have never felt jealous in the way I’ve heard friends and partners describe it – as an almost instinctual, painful knee-jerk response to a situation that they may well intellectually understand poses no threat to their relationship with someone.

Instead, I will refer you to one of my favourite articles about jealousy, insecurity and polyamory, which describes a relationship under strain as being like a broken refrigerator.[5] Many polyamorous relationships (especially those that started out monogamous) struggle to address the insecurities at the roots of the jealousy problem. Instead of repairing or replacing the ‘broken refrigerator’, they create a new rule (as mentioned in the discussion of hierarchical polyamory). The jealous partner might declare ‘you can’t kiss that person in front of me’, or ‘you can’t bring refrigerated goods into this house’. It’s not a sustainable situation in the long term, but many people find this short-term ‘solution’ more palatable than looking at the real issue – the strain in the relationship, or the broken refrigerator.

A related issue is that of post-relationship possessiveness, where someone tries to forbid their friends from starting a new relationship with their exes (or vice versa), because it sparks the old issue of jealousy once more. I personally do not understand this at all, but I can understand that it may be painful for some people. However, experiencing emotional conflict doesn’t justify robbing your friends or exes of agency – it’s important to respect their choices and let them live their best lives. One valid reason I can think of for advising people against starting a relationship is if you need to warn one of them that the other person is known to be abusive – but in that case, be certain to have a proper conversation with them to explain the situation, don’t just try to cast doubt on the prospective relationship! Allowing someone to make better-informed decisions is very different from trying to control their behaviour, as you are still respecting their agency.

In conclusion, any relationship model can encounter challenges in the form of dishonesty, insecurity, jealousy or controlling behaviour. Even if polyamorous relationship anarchy doesn’t sound like it’s your cup of tea, you can use its core principles of good communication and consent to inform your behaviour in your preferred relationship model(s). However, for those of you who are interested in exploring ethical polyamory and/or relationship anarchy, I wish you the best of luck. I hope this perspective can help you feel confident in finding relationships that may be other than the social norm, but are still significant and fulfilling to you and your partner(s).

References

[1] For a starting point discussing asexuality- and aromanticism-spectrum identities in more detail, please read https://www.asexuality.org/?q=overview.html
[2] You can read an overview of the findings in this article: https://yougov.co.uk/news/2015/05/27/one-five-british-adults-admit-affair/ For full statistics and methodology, please see https://d25d2506sfb94s.cloudfront.net/cumulus_uploads/document/hnkaqncwlu/SunResults_150518_affairs_W.pdf
[3] You can find a breakdown of the Split Attraction Model and similar models here, along with further reading: https://asexualagenda.wordpress.com/2019/04/02/splitting-the-split-attraction-model/
[4] I have spent many hours delving into the wide range of sources available online and there are far too many to list here. As a good starting-off point, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network forums can provide a strong insight into the ways that people begin and develop conversations on these topics. You can find the English-language one here: https://www.asexuality.org/en/
[5] You can find the whole article here, I highly recommend giving it a read: https://www.morethantwo.com/jealousypractice.html