Whiplash: A Conversation on Ethical Non-Monogamy

December 30, 2025

This morning, I spent several hours in thoughtful conversation with someone I don’t know well, but whose way of thinking and interests in life are ones I connect with.

We talked at length about past relationships, lessons learned, and the responsibility that comes with involving other people in your life. There was no defensiveness or posturing—just a level of self-awareness and ownership that didn’t require explanation or apology.

At one point, he spoke about being polyamorous—not as an identity badge or a loophole, but as a structure that demands an even higher standard of responsibility.

What stood out to me wasn’t how he structured his relationships. It was how responsibility was carried inside them. Information was shared early, plainly, and without theatrics—not to reassure, but to ensure that no one was making choices in the dark.

There is a meaningful difference between ethical non-monogamy and non-ethical non-monogamy, and it has nothing to do with how many people are involved. Ethical non-monogamy is built on informed consent: truth shared early, overlap disclosed, and agency preserved for everyone affected.

Non-ethical non-monogamy relies on omission, timing, and perception management—access maintained by keeping others in the dark, curtains carefully drawn over overlapping lives.

That conversation threw a clear light on my last relationship—and reminded me that I am not alone in expecting dignity, respect, and integrity in relationships of any kind.

Shortly after, in a completely different setting, a conversation unfolded that pulled me straight back into the reality I had lived through before.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t malicious. It was casual. And that was the point.

Information surfaced quietly, from someone with no reason to protect me or harm him—someone who had simply observed over time and recognized patterns I wouldn’t see until much later.

What followed wasn’t shock. It was recognition.

Because what I lived through was not complexity mishandled, but truth deliberately withheld. Not confusion, but a reality carefully curated to serve someone else’s desires.

That conversation didn’t teach me something new. It confirmed what I already knew to be true.

That honesty is not about labels, structures, or how many people are involved. It is about whether truth is shared in a way that preserves agency, dignity, and consent for everyone affected.

I carry this contrast with me now—not as a warning, but as a reference point. It reminds me that clarity isn’t rare, and that confusion is not the price of depth. As I move forward, I’m paying attention to how truth is handled, how responsibility is carried, and whether my agency is preserved from the start.