Okay, so the title is a little misleading — there’s no problem at all with the narrow practice of having one sexual partner at a time. I’m monogamous because that’s what works for me (and my girlfriend); it’s what works for lots of other folks, too. That’s great.
What is problematic is the massive culture conceptualization of monogamy, which, in my estimation, goes way beyond how many people one is sleeping with. It is, rather, the cultural construction of love itself, which seems to amount to the idea that each person should get (and give) all her love from (and to) just one person. It is the idea that we should have all our emotional needs met by a sole other person, and meet 100% of that person’s needs in turn. It’s the idea that adults should have only one really important adult relationship — that the (sole) person one is sleeping with should become the single most important person in one’s life, that one’s spouse should exist on this sacred plane of total devotion, while our friendships should be basically casual, basically unimportant, or, at best, less important.
I think this causes a lot of heartbreak, both in the form of the strange disappointment of discovering that one’s lover is not, as one had been taught to expect, a perfect carbon copy of oneself, but a complex human being, and in the form of the loneliness, anxiety and frustration of trying to get all one’s emotional needs met by one person and trying to singlehandedly meet all of another person’s needs. And I seriously think that many of our common ailments are the result of the pervasive lack of strong social support systems, the grievous lack of real community. So it’s a doomed mission and we would do well to abandon it, whether we practice sexual monogamy or any of the various forms of polyamory.
(By the way, I first put this idea into words in a comment over at Dave Pollard’s excellent blog How To Save The World some months ago, on this post. This post is largely an elaboration of what I said there.)
So, I don’t know how many sex partners humans are supposed to have — I suspect it varies widely, and I also suspect that that’s not really the point, in terms of what I’m talking about here.
Some people are much happier with polyamorous relationships, and that’s great; others do best with monogamy, and, as I said earlier, that’s great, too. I’m very glad for everyone who’s found what makes her happy. Those are important issues. They’re also, I think, personal issues. I don’t think it’s a matter for political consideration, really, how many sex partners each person has, beyond the obvious statement that we should respect and recognize each person’s choices.* What is a social and political issue, though, is how many people each of us loves — or, more to the point, how many people we are permitted to love, and what love means in our society.
That is the problem with monogamy: that we are expected to love only one person. Family relationships are recognized, but they’re also marginalized — we’re expected to see our parents, siblings, still-living grandparents and grown children only a few times a year (and what of our aunts, uncles, cousins?); they’re not set up as vital relationships in our daily lives.
What a bereft existence! I think it’s absolutely clear that no one is meant to love and be loved by just one person, and that we slowly kill ourselves when try to make this happen. No one can meet all of another person’s needs, and there is no reason to expect anyone to do so. People are complicated, multifaceted creatures; those of us who are waiting for someone who is totally compatible with every facet of our being are going to be waiting a long, long time.
A much better solution is to encourage everyone to have many important relationships (and again, this has no bearing on one’s sex life) — diverse, fulfilling, important relationships with many people, so that some parts of oneself get exercised and appreciated with some people, and other parts with other people. This both assures that our various needs actually get met, and takes the pressure off of other relationships — I suspect it’s much easier to forge a good romantic partnership, for example, if you’re not expecting your partner to be perfect or trying make the relationship as big as your whole life.
Having major relationships is, of course, work. It can be hard work. It is also some of the most fulfilling work a person can do. It is worth it. And the natural outcropping of this, when we do it daily — when we form many diverse loving relationships, as many as will grow, and treat their maintenance as important work — is community.
*And beyond discussions of legal arrangements and recognition, but that’s a whole other thing.
Posted under Culture, Sexuality
This post was written by Daisy on October 8, 2008
In the light of how this comment was (mis)construed , you might like to rethink the title.
I wish that were true. My experience, however, is that it is not. Most of my adult life has been charactered by on the one hand a tendency to fall into support roles for women, and on the other, a failure to get my own support/love/sex needs met, either by those women or by anyone else. This has been enormously costly to me, to the point where I now consciously and explicitly decline, even though it goes against my nature to do so.
So yeah, if you (that’s a generic ‘you’. of course) are dating or sleeping with someone else, don’t expect me to fill in the gaps.
Ack. The second link should have been tho this comment.
Hi Daran!
My non-traditional family, which includes both my family of origin and the circle of friends I obliquely imply here, both include men. My family of origin includes my biological father. And we were not poor, abused, or neglected. Aych’s comment strikes me as willfully misintrepreting and unreasonable — though I only read those two, not the thread, so I may be off base — which is kind of standard fare from him.
I’m not going to rethink the title — men and fathers, in my opinion, have more to gain than women from what I’m talking about, because women are already allowed, to some extent, to have important friendships, while real friendships between straight guys don’t seem to get any real cultural support.
I’m sorry you were mistreated by your friends. That’s no good. What I’m talking about is the opposite of that: not using someone to “fill in the gaps” left by a lover, but forming mutual relationships that are prioritized by everyone involved. It’s not something one can do alone, which makes it a little useless as a suggestion for an individual — it has to happen in communities.
I have to run to class; back later.
Back again. Daran, your response to Aych was right on; you said it much better than I did.
Adding to what I said earlier: most of the alternative family structures I encounter in my life — at least those that are intentional — function as well as or better than the traditional structure. (That’s both a reflection on traditional structures and on the fact that those people knowingly opted out, i.e. that those folks have self-selected as not cut out for the traditional structure.) The ones I think of have, on balance, just as much involvement from men and fathers as the traditional set up does. I’m not, as Aych claims in his follow up to you, worried about the “toxic” presence of straight men (at all) — I’m worried about the toxicity of loneliness and alienation. Those things plague straight men more than most other groups, if suicide rates are any indication.
Hey Daisy,
I just would like to give you the thumbs up, this is an incredible, well-thought post, absolutely agree with it.
Thank you, Antal!
Wow. First, that was just a whole bunch of win. Second, I need to print this out and tack it (LITERALLY) onto my friend’s forehead because she is a case in point for your post, especially this line: “I think this causes a lot of heartbreak, both in the form of the strange disappointment of discovering that one’s lover is not, as one had been taught to expect, a perfect carbon copy of oneself, but a complex human being, and in the form of the loneliness, anxiety and frustration of trying to get all one’s emotional needs met by one person and trying to singlehandedly meet all of another person’s needs.”
If you’ll allow a little story here.
She returned from a week-long tropical vacation with this guy she has been off and on with for six years (she paid for everything). She said, this vacation is make or break for the relationship. The entire week, no sex. Finally she breaks down in tears asking if he loves her and if he wants to be with her. He says no, in so many words. Despite this she is still waiting for his call. I ask why she put so many expectations on a guy that has been blatantly showing to her for six years that he had no intent on “settling down” with her despite his words to the opposite. Meanwhile, she has nothing but negative comments on my sexual expression and believes, whole-heartedly, that women are naturally monogamous and that is the only way to have a good relationship. I pointed out that, obviously, it didn’t work for her.
She REALLY needs to read this.
And this: “That is the problem with monogamy: that we are expected to love only one person. Family relationships are recognized, but they’re also marginalized — we’re expected to see our parents, siblings, still-living grandparents and grown children only a few times a year (and what of our aunts, uncles, cousins?); they’re not set up as vital relationships in our daily lives.”
Sounds like my brother’s treatment of our family. Though there are some other hateful aspects on his part but yeah…first time we met his now-wife was a month and a half before he proposed. Thanks.