Balancing Passion and Intimacy in Modern Relationships

“Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy. Our need for togetherness exists alongside our need for separateness.” - Esther Perel

One of the main reasons I became a counsellor is because I am fascinated by ideas. Ideas, for me, are very unusual things. They seem to pop up out of nowhere, within our minds, and can be incredibly contagious. But because they come to us, were they really ours to begin with? Where did they come from and what are their intentions? Maybe we’ll never know.

One of the ideas sweeping through the contemporary world is polyamory. Polyamory, or “many loves” is a practice of engaging in multiple sexual and intimate partners. That love should be bound only to one other feels limiting and restricting to say the least; and beyond poetic sentimentality, it appears unnatural. Christopher Ryan, author of Sex At Dawn, states the following:

“No group-living nonhuman primate is monogamous, and adultery has been documented in every human culture studied- including those in which fornicators are routinely stoned to death. In light of all of this bloody retribution, it’s hard to see how monogamy comes “naturally” to our species. Why would so many risk their reputations, families, careers- even presidential legacies- for something that runs against human nature? Were monogamy an ancient, evolved trait characteristic of our species, as the standard narrative insists, these ubiquitous transgressions would be infrequent and such horrible enforcement unnecessary. No creature needs to be threatened with death to act in accord with its own nature.”

Why is our culture so obsessed with monogamy? Is it not merely a domineering, institutionalised, pervasive and enslaving social construction? Why not dispense with the idea! Love should be free! Release the shackles, incarcerate the chastisers and priests. Let. Love. Reign goddammit!

Prostitutes and Priests

I’m all for spontaneity, but before we cut off the tree branch upon which we sit, let us firstly make sure the fall won’t be too painful. Question: Why does monogamy continue to dominate our romantic moral code? Why isn’t polyamory the way? The answer, I think, lies hidden within the confines of something equally fundamental to human nature: The pain, pleasure dichotomy.

Indian mystic Osho said, “Every time I meet a prostitute, she wants to talk about God. And Every time I meet a priest, he wants to talk about sex. Whatever it is that you deny yourself will become your new prison. Ponder that. But if you understand the proverb and still do it, you are called a fool.”

We want what we can’t have. The grass is always greener. But does it have to be? Chasing the greener grass will inevitably lead to suffering; so why do we do it? The answer lies in the chase. Getting to the transient greener grass is more exciting than the temporary satisfaction derived from feeling it between our toes. And when the novelty dies off, the grass swaying in the breeze over on a nearby hill excites us.

As kids, we’re told not to chase the greener grass. We tend not to pay attention, which I think is good, because true life lessons are earned, not learned. Learning by doing—or rather, failing—is an annoying trick life plays on us all. But knowledge is only power if the knowledge is applied, which is to say, acted out. And the more we learn about ourselves, the less we’ll chase the greener grass and find our centre. Life gets that. It takes us a while to.

The Unalome is a Buddhist symbol that reflects the individual life path. It demonstrates that ups and downs are inevitable; that suffering, like all things, is impermanent; and that the curves and loops that comprise the stories of our lives will eventually straighten out into linear paths of wholesome equanimity to the degree we remain aware of the influences guiding our behaviour.

Going Deep, Not Wide

My job as a therapist isn’t to tell people how to live their lives—I can barely figure out how to live mine! Rather, I view my role as a sort of investigator; a scholar and student of the minds of my clients. Together, we work like excavators and explorers, mapping their psyches to uncover lost jewels hidden deep within the overgrown forests of thought and suffering. Conversation is our machete, the tool we use to clear and map the jungle, forging paths of coherent viewpoints and self-understanding.   

Individuals in relational distress often ponder polyamory as a potential solution to their sexual and/or emotional frustration. They wonder whether a literal and metaphorical release might ease tension and alleviate pent-up resentment resulting from the normalcy of modern-day relationships, although catalysed and sustained by sweeping transgressions under the carpet.

In these instances, polyamory is the elusive greener grass. It is not to be mistaken with the solution to their relational problems. Oftentimes, the solution to our problems lies in balancing life’s polarities, managing these dichotomies and paying constant attention to where we stand upon these spectrums. If polyamory, as an idea, seems as though it would solve your relational difficulties—yet it contradicts the vision for your life—see it not as a solution but as a calling to allow more freedom and independence in your life. More time to yourself, re-aligning with your goals and values might be enough to tip the scales a little more toward freedom, further away from restraint. After all, intimacy is safe, secure and comforting, yet suffocating and restricting. Freedom is exciting and pleasurable, yet volatile and isolating.  

Heads excites those sick of Tails. Tails interests the other. Ultimately, it’s just a coin, and there will always be an opportunity cost.

Polyamory is exciting because it’s a new idea; but monogamy isn’t without merit. It continues to pervade our culture for a reason, whether you agree with it or not. We seldom unpack it, however.

Wine or Lemonade?

Imagine your favourite drink tasted better the more you drank it until, ultimately, the greatest mouthful was only experienced by the end of the bottle. Imagine, also, that the bottle were so big, it took years—even decades—to finish it. Let’s say you enjoy red wine. Let’s say you enjoy Shiraz. To get the greatest taste from the grapes, you’ll have to drink the entire bottle. You can do it, but it’ll take you a very, very long time, and because you’re going to die, time is a very, very scarce resource.

Let’s say you also enjoy Lemonade, Coke, White Wine, Coffee, Tea, Chai Lattes and Orange Juice! But they’re all the same as red wine: the coffee beans, sugar, fruit, grapes and tea leaves taste best at the very end of those impossibly large drinks that take decades to finish. What a conundrum!

What are you going to do?

Will you spread yourself across a few drinks? Sure, you’ll get variety, but you’ll lack depth and true flavour. Will you sacrifice variety for a single glass of impossibly delicious Shiraz, the likes of which will be written about by poets for centuries?

You see my point.

The hardest thing about this is that there is no right choice. A truly fulfilling, monogamous relationship will provide depth, but lack variety. On the other hand, polyamory offers novelty but lacks profundity.

It is a wonderful thing to be afforded the freedom to choose how to live. But, as Freud wrote in his 1929 book Civilisation and Its Discontents, “Most people do not really want freedom, because freedom involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility.” Another pertinent quote comes to mind: “You can do anything, but you can’t do everything.” If you were immortal you could, but you’re not, so you can’t. There. So, what will you choose?

I spoke about this to a client navigating a divorce. I brought to light these ideas. If you’re in a similar situation, might I offer you an imaginary seat opposite me? She’d been married to her wife for over six years (since it became legal in Australia in 2017). She was navigating a divorce and absolutely couldn’t wait to party, not leaving a whole lot to imagination as she spoke of his desires. As I heard her speak, I thought, “More power to you.” My curiosity got the better of me, however. I was interested in whether she’d given her ‘opportunity cost’ much thought. I asked about what she might miss from her days spent with her wife. Before I could finish my question, she blurted out, “Nothing!” We both laughed. I again asked her to consider the question:

“I know right now you’re looking forward to the freedom and opportunity associated with the single life. But I also recognise you value deep intimacy, otherwise you wouldn’t have been married for so long. Having no strings attached will feel light and easy, and maybe that’s what you want? But the positive side to having many strings attached, supposing you threaded them yourself, is that every string weaved as a consequence of challenge, hardship, love, laughter and romance engenders a deep and intimate relationship ripe with meaning. There is no ‘right’ choice. But you will inevitably have to make one.”

After a short pause, she said she’d miss the nights the two of them spent together, sitting by a fire or camping in the middle of nowhere, underneath stars seldom gazed upon by modernity. She said she’d miss feeling as though she had a “ride-or-die”. We both sat there in silence (I often ask clients to “steelman” the views of others they feel in opposition with). I was sure tears would emerge. Alas, I quickly recognised my own bias. Tears did not emerge. It appeared she’d made her mind up and was looking forward to the single life, fully aware that such a choice would mean the absence of the depth of long-term, relational loving with an old flame. In that moment, I appreciated how the choice she’d made was hers alone. She taught me that complete acceptance of what we can’t have paradoxically gives us the feeling of enough.

Polyamory can be fulfilling and deep just like monogamy can be ripe with variety; but both take work. What this means is that polyamory, for example—in its nascent form—lacks depth. That doesn’t mean it can’t be cultivated. It just depends on what you want to do. If you prefer to go wide, not deep (pardon the pun), how about fostering a more intimate relationship with one partner—a relationship ripe with open, honest communication—enjoying novelty on the side? If you prefer wine that gets better with age, why not shake things up in the bedroom with role play?

Enjoy the Grass

If what you choose is intentional and well-considered, you won’t lose. I agree with the late author and journalist Christopher Hitchens in that we all must “choose our regrets”. It is unfortunate that we must live with regret. But we are fortunate because we get to choose them. Decide either way in full recognition of your sacrifice. That is how you’ll avoid a lifetime of resentment.

In the end, it’s about enjoying the grass upon which you stand. Don’t pretend the greener grass doesn’t exist. Don’t bury your head in the sand. Just be aware that it’s only greener because you’re not standing on it.

The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said, “My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.”

Love what you have. Love your fate. Be grateful for your grass and all its imperfections. Don’t chase polyamory or monogamy. Enjoy the seesaw.