I have had the privilege of performing in the McGill Classics Play these past two years. From the very beginning, the audition process set itself apart from any previous theatre experience I had: Actors go out for any part, not knowing more than basic character descriptions for a few of the leads. This has eliminated the stress I always felt in high school when auditioning for a specific role and waiting for the fateful day that the cast list goes up. Not only does this process alleviate the “failure” of not getting a part, I find it’s better at giving us what we need, rather than what we think we want.

Perhaps the most uncomfortable part of this realization was recognizing that what I dislike about high school theatre is also what I now dislike about monogamy.

Now, I am not a relationship person. Yet, I still consider myself to be polyamorous. So, why do I go through the hassle of explaining polyamory to tons of people I won’t meet again? Why do I bother explaining the boundaries I would set in a relationship to someone I don’t intend to date? Why explain to people how I might navigate several romantic partnerships when I find it unlikely that I will meet several people I want to date?

Well, it’s because the way I would navigate a romantic relationship isn’t different from how I navigate any other interpersonal relationship. I don’t see romance as the pinnacle of human connection, but rather just a permutation of it.

I am polyamorous because one person’s place in my life does not depend on my relationship with anybody else. So, for me, monogamous dating feels like an audition. While I am getting to know someone and building the foundation of a relationship with them that’ll last as long as we enjoy each others’ company, they are auditioning people to fit the role of “partner” in their life. Their relationship with me will last only until they cast someone else in that role, unless they cast me, in which case it’ll last for as long as I fulfill the criteria slightly better than anyone else. 

This also means that I will be cut from people’s lives because I fit their requirements for dating a little too well yet not enough. Their feelings toward me exceed what they deem acceptable for a friendship, but other differences make me unsuitable to be their singular partner. I think it’s quite unfathomable for a polyamorous person to cut contact with someone because we do care about them, but showing that we care about someone else means we cannot care about any other person in a comparable way.

I also want to clarify that being polyamorous certainly does not mean you have to be dating several people at once or have the same closeness or boundaries with all of your partners. Take it as a matter of choice: Are you doing certain things you consider exclusive to a romantic partnership with one person because you want to or because you have to?

So, I will ask you to think about a few questions to consider whether you might be more polyamorous than you think. Why do you want to be in a relationship? Is it emotional or physical intimacy? Where do these overlap, and importantly, where do they not? What are things you might want that, socially, are only acceptable to want from your partner? Will these things actually take away from what you personally consider important for your relationship? Will getting the best head of your life once again take anything away from everything you love about your current partner? From my experience: If it was just sex then, it’s just sex now, and I hope you choose monogamy for a hell of a lot more than good head.