I’ve always considered a partner being friendly with their ex(es) a green flag—emphasis on friendly. Not too close, lest the connection become something more. Now, nine years into my polyamory journey, my girlfriend (aka, my primary partner) has regular sex with a handful of her exes, and the reality of our non-monogamous arrangement has forced me to address the wounds left by my last (and final) monogamous partner.
My ex Jennie* was best friends with her ex of five years—the person she thought she would marry. In fact, they talked every day. She’d check her phone at dinner, and a huge smile would creep across her face. Once, when I asked who it was and what they'd said, she said it was him and that I “wouldn’t get it. It’s an inside joke.”
I once told Jennie that I felt like he made her happier than I did, that the smile she had when he called or texted was more genuine than the one she had around me. But no matter how often she reassured me that he was just a friend, I still felt jealous. I never projected my insecurities or got mad at her outright, but internally, I obsessed over him and questioned my relationship. It nearly consumed me—I felt like I was losing my mind.
After Jennie and I broke up, I became polyamorous, which I know may sound paradoxical for someone struggling with jealousy, but I now know that I dove into polyamory for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t think it could lead to “serious” relationships, and I don’t want to say my relationship with Jennie broke me, but I had some major baggage and avoidance issues after her. Polyamory felt like a somewhat “safe” alternative—the ability to have low-level intimacy with multiple people without putting all my eggs in one basket. (Needless to say, my POV has evolved.)
For awhile, this attitude was working for me, at least in that it kept my jealousy at bay. But I had my walls up, dating people with whom I didn’t see long-term potential. I loved many of them and look back on those relationships fondly, but I think subconsciously I knew they wouldn’t be in my life for more than a few months, maybe a year, max. This went on for about seven years... until about a year ago, when it all started to feel too emotionally draining. Investing in someone for three to six months at a time got tougher with each breakup, until eventually I decided I wouldn’t date anyone seriously unless I believed there was long-term potential. Four months later, I met Ava*.
While we've only been together for eight months, I can confidently say I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But thanks to my avoidant tendencies since Jennie, dating Ava has been a terrifying whirlwind. Being this vulnerable with someone? Sharing my traumas and insecurities? Planning a future together? My God! How do people do this? And while this increased vulnerability has led to a deeper connection, it’s also led to the resurgence of my green-eyed monster.
Ava and I are non-monogamous. While we sometimes use the word “polyamorous,” honestly, I’m not too sure that’s currently accurate. We’ve both said to each other that it would hurt if we started a serious romantic relationship with someone else. We said this would likely change as we feel more secure in our relationship, but for now, let’s not go out on dates with new people intending to find another romantic partner. Fuck buddies? Fabulous! Sex with a flirty friend? We love it! A super hot rando hits you up on Instagram and wants to bone? Get it, babe! But deeply loving someone else? It would be really challenging for both of us.
But we’ve been non-monogamous individually for a long time, and have had multiple partners before one another. Whereas I'm friendly and platonic with some of my exes—the occasional "hope you're well" comment on social media and a casual hug when we run into each other at a party—Ava still maintains sexual relationships with a handful of hers. She sees them a couple of times a month. They’ll go on some form of a “date,” hook up, and she lets me know when she’s home.
This arrangement, while absolutely fair within the boundaries of our relationship, has brought up a lot of big feelings and insecurities for me—the same ones I had with Jennie. The same ones I thought I had “worked through” in therapy and “resolved.” Because even in non-monogamy, the threat of an ex is stronger than a random bone. Contrary to popular belief, being poly doesn’t give you some kind of superhero strength that makes you incapable of feeling jealous or insecure. I'm still human. I’ve heard stories about people leaving their spouses for exes—how a shared history can open up old feelings. I also love seeing Ava multiple times a week. In truth, I don’t want to split my time with someone else. So yeah, I feel a little insecure when she shares that she’s on a date with her ex, the one she had and continues to have earth-shattering sex with.
But ultimately, Ava’s other relationships—including the ones with her exes—are an inherent part of the dynamics of our relationship. Our non-monogamy doesn’t extend to only a select group of people. I’d never tell her who she can and cannot see, nor would I want to. She’s an adult, her exes are important to her, and part of being Ava’s partner isn’t just accepting her decisions, but trusting her and the fact that I’m her primary partner—they’re exes for a reason. (I’d only express concern if one of Ava’s partners seemed manipulative or treated her poorly. Still, I wouldn’t “veto” them or tell her not to see them. The choice would always be hers.)
While adopting this mentality hasn’t been easy, I’m proud to say my insecurities and jealous thoughts don’t live rent-free in my mind like they did a decade ago. They’re far more manageable for a few reasons. (If they weren’t, I’d consider returning to monogamy.)
Whereas Jennie didn’t see why her relationship with her ex was a big deal (in turn, making me feel insecure about bringing it up), Ava also struggles with jealousy at times, especially when I bring up my exes. But we talk about it openly, through vulnerable conversations where we share our past relationship baggage and insecurities. We constantly reaffirm how much we love each other. While we never lie about where (or with whom) we’ve been, we do strike a balance about how much we talk about exes, and we’re conscious not to bring them up absentmindedly, lest the mention sting. This open communication has helped us empathize and work on building security and trust.
I’ve also come to realize that Ava could ultimately leave me for anyone. Sure, sleeping with exes may increase the likelihood, but if she wasn’t feeling connected to me, she’d leave me anyway. It might be for an ex, a coworker, or no one if she’s just fallen out of love with me. And while I would be absolutely devastated, especially since our relationship has felt “more real” and intimate than anything I’ve ever had, I would, in time, be okay. Knowing this—really believing this—has been crucial.
In unpacking my anxiety with my therapist, she's repeatedly asked me: “What are you so afraid of?”
“I don’t want to end up a heartbroken mess,” I respond. “I don’t want to end up back at square one, going on mediocre dates as I attempt to find my next partner. I don’t want to be alone or have to learn to trust and love again.”
“But would you get through it?”
“I suppose.”
“Not ‘I suppose.’ You would! I’m not saying it wouldn’t be terrible, but you would eventually move on.”
So now, I sit with the uncomfortable feelings that arise when Ava has sex with an ex. I remind myself I would never want to limit who she can see, or what she can do. I tell myself she loves me, and while it’s not the happiest thought, I tell myself that if she did, one day, want out for whatever reason, I would survive.
It’s a hard truth to swallow. But I think there’s a big, rewarding light at the end of the tunnel: Being non-monogamous has truly forced us to address our insecurities and fears in a way that we wouldn’t if we were monogamous. And if doing all this leads to a stronger, more secure, fulfilling relationship with Ava long-term? Sign me TF up.
*Name has been changed.
