In Defense of Breaking Up

Break ups are the most painful part of a romantic relationship. Especially if you are living together or there are kids involved. And it’s often difficult to tell if the problems in the relationship are so big that it justifies putting everyone through that pain.

It’s understandable that many people avoid doing it for longer than they should, but it’s all part of dating. So you would think that people who are free to pursue many relationships at a time would be more comfortable with breaking up than monogamous people. But in my experience with polyamorous people, that’s not the case. All too often, the freedom to pursue multiple romantic relationships seems to discourage people from ending relationships that aren’t serving them, rather than making them more comfortable with it.

I’ve met polyamorous people who tell me they have six or seven partners. When I express surprise that they can manage to find the time to support so many relationships, they explain that there are three weekends a year for a long distance partner and two Thursdays a month with another, ect. Eventually I realize that there’s one or two partners who are getting the vast majority of their time, with any remaining free time going to all the other partners.

I’ve also met many people who are doing their best to have an emotionally fulfilling relationship with one partner in whatever spaces an older relationship will allow without collapsing. Usually this person is still married to someone they used to be monogamous with and the relationship has transitioned to being polyamorous. All of their free time goes to the constant resolution of fights, negotiation of boundaries, check-ins and processing feelings.

In both cases, I see people who need to learn how to break up with someone. Ironically, I suspect the average polyam person has less experience with breaking up than many others. Monogamous people also struggle with avoiding conflict and hurt feelings by staying in a relationship well past its expiration date. But eventually the mono person will be forced to choose between being miserable or breaking up to find someone they could be happier with.

If that person is non-monogamous, they might instead start seeing someone else who makes them happier or gives them more of what they need. And instead of breaking up they will do one of two things, depending on how entangled they are. They will attempt to slowly fade out of their older partner’s life while still maintaining the illusion that everything is fine. Or else they will try to bend their new relationship into a shape that can fit into whatever space is allowed by the constraints of the old relationship. In either case a break-up is avoided while more complications are added.

But the added complications aren’t the worst part of this story. The worst part is that this person is missing out on a chance to listen to and honor their own inner voice that says “I’m not happy” over the happiness of another person. Here, I’m speaking from experience.

My first boyfriend was an emotionally abusive shithead who I wanted to escape from after about three months and the love bombing wore off. But I stayed with him for two years because he threatened to kill himself every time I tried to break up. It took me beginning to feel physically ill every time I was near him before I finally had the nerve to apologetically end things after Junior Prom.

I met my first husband that same year, when I was still 17. We got married when I was 20, and were together for 13 years after that. In retrospect I probably wanted to break up almost immediately after we were married, and off and on throughout that marriage. But I couldn’t admit that to myself. This time it took a polyamorous triad and blowing up the lives of three adults and two kids for me to say the words “I want out”.

In every relationship I’ve had since I married my second husband, I learned to break up a little sooner after the relationship started hurting in the same way repeatedly. And every time I did, I’ve gone on to find a new relationship that was better for me. Where I felt more seen and appreciated for being my most authentic self. More free to love in a way that feels good to me.

My last break up was by far the most painful. For the first time, I really didn’t want to break up. After two years, I was still so in love. Still marveling at the magic of having him in my life and sharing moments I’ll never forget. But I was also hurting a lot in that relationship. I was burning myself up trying to protect my place in his life and to regulate myself through the pain I felt every time he failed to do it for me. I couldn’t find the emotional peace I needed to work on my own goals.

After a few serious talks about how much this was hurting me and some half-hearted attempts to improve things, I was still committed to believing it was working. I was desperate not to admit what my soul knew to be true. That I would not feel peace in this relationship. That lasted until a few things came out that made it so obvious I couldn’t ignore it anymore, and I ended things.

It’s a new kind of breakup for me. More heartbroken than I knew I could be, while also more proud of myself than perhaps I’ve ever been. Because I’ve never suffered emotionally for myself before, only for other people. The pain I’m feeling is for me. The sacrifice was so that I can become the person I need to be, not to heal him or preserve the relationship. That’s a lot of love to give to myself.

Polyamory isn’t a “Get Out of Jail Free” card for avoiding hurting someone you care about. If you never learn to value your own needs for autonomy, free time, platonic friends, or peace over the hurt feelings of others you are really holding yourself back from the self knowledge that these things all provide.

It’s understandable why so many polyamorous people can find themselves in this position. Rather than being selfish, most people who are trying to do non-monogamy healthily are deeply committed to being ethical and caring people. And there is rarely an obvious line where you can see that it’s time to move on. Usually the line bright enough to see is the one well past the point of no return for fixing the relationship.

I’m here to tell you something. That whisper you hear saying it’s time to end a relationship is your own spirit talking to you. It’s the part of you that you had to ignore as a child in order to survive and belong. The more you can hear and honor that voice, the more you will know yourself and what you want. Don’t be afraid of that knowledge.

This post was originally published on Medium.