A trauma-informed, myth-busting guide to navigating ethical non-monogamy without losing yourself.
Articles about the “dangers of non-monogamy” are everywhere right now. Scroll any feed and you’ll see dramatic headlines about people being retraumatized, predated upon, or emotionally destroyed by non-monogamous relationships. In today’s click-driven climate, non-monogamy has become a sensationalized topic—a perfect storm of fear, confusion, and black-and-white thinking.
But here’s the truth:
Yes, you can get hurt in non-monogamy.
Yes, you can repeat old relational wounds while practicing polyamory.
No, these risks are not exclusive to non-monogamy.
Immaturity, manipulation, attachment wounding, and poor communication show up everywhere—including in monogamy. If the goal is healthy, secure relating, then the most helpful question isn’t “Is non-monogamy dangerous?” but rather:
How do we understand our own patterns, needs, and blind spots before entering any relationship structure—non-monogamous or monogamous?
And that’s what this article is really about.
The Real Questions We Need to Be Asking
Instead of circulating fear-based “red flag lists,” we need a deeper inquiry:
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How do I know when I’m hurting myself in a relationship?
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Am I repeating old relational patterns, just in a new format?
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What do I need to clarify, own, and understand about myself before dating anyone—monogamously or not?
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Do I know my values, boundaries, and emotional capacity?
As a therapist who works with both monogamous and non-monogamous individuals, I see the same core issue over and over:
A relationship “breaks” when someone’s assumption, fantasy, expectation, or delusion collapses—and reality rushes in.
This happens everywhere, in every structure.
My Cautionary Tale: How I Re-Enacted My Wounds Through Non-Monogamy
When I began my non-monogamy journey (unknowingly), I was coming out of a brutal divorce. I was terrified, depleted, and desperate for emotional safety. As a 38-year-old newly single mother of three, I felt overwhelmed, alone, and trapped in the cultural narrative that being partnered was essential to being okay.
I had never been single. I was exhausted. I was disillusioned about marriage. And although I had read The Ethical Slut, that didn’t equip me to understand my own trauma patterns.
So when “C” showed up—warm, helpful, attentive, playful—it felt like being rescued. He repaired my car. He cooked for me. He held me while I cried for hours. He cared for my kids. He felt like oxygen after years of emotional neglect and abuse.
But here’s the part I couldn’t see yet:
I had nothing to offer but my trauma.
I was in no shape to date.
I was reenacting old attachment wounds.
And I was blind to the ways I was hurting myself.
This wasn’t about non-monogamy.
This was about unhealed trauma looking for safety in the quickest place it could find it.
How I Agreed to a Non-Monogamous Relationship I Wasn’t Ready For
C told me early on that he didn’t practice monogamy. He identified as a “kitchen table polyamorist,” had another partner he loved, and expected us all to blend. I philosophically understood non-monogamy, but emotionally? I was nowhere near ready.
And instead of talking about my fears, I stuffed them down.
Why?
Because I wanted to be “cool.”
Because I didn’t want to lose his love and care.
Because my nervous system was still shaped by childhood survival strategies.
Because it felt safer to adapt to him than to risk abandonment.
He set the terms.
I complied.
And I convinced myself I was growing.
The truth?
I was surviving, not choosing.
And when I eventually found a lover of my own, the relationship ended within six months. He wasn’t actually non-monogamous—he was dating single mothers with no non-monogamy experience who wouldn’t question the arrangement.
When I finally stepped into my own autonomy…it was over.
The Lesson: Non-Monogamy Isn’t the Problem—Unpreparedness Is
I wasn’t victimized by C.
I wasn’t manipulated.
I simply had no idea how to show up for myself yet.
I didn’t know what questions to ask.
I didn’t understand my own attachment wounds.
I didn’t have the skills or resources to navigate the emotional landscape of ethical non-monogamy.
Looking back, I wish I’d taken time to ask:
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What are my values right now?
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What do I actually have the capacity for?
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Am I emotionally available—or am I seeking a savior?
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Can I communicate my needs clearly?
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Am I choosing non-monogamy, or reacting to past trauma?
These questions could have spared my kids and me a lot of pain.
If Your Levels of Non-Monogamy Experience Are Different, Here’s What To Do
This is one of the most common issues in non-monogamous dating. My advice:
1. Talk early—before dating, before kissing, before feelings escalate.
If you’re afraid to initiate the conversation for fear of losing the person…
you are not ready to date.
Just like safer-sex conversations, if you can’t talk about relationship structure, you’re not ready for the intimacy that comes with it.
2. If you practice non-monogamy, don’t offer exclusivity.
This is a major source of heartbreak I see in my practice. Someone says:
“I’m non-monogamous, but I’ll be exclusive with you for now.”
Then months later, they want to date others—and their partner feels blindsided.
If you know you’re not monogamous, say so clearly.
And don’t bend your boundaries for someone else’s comfort.
3. Know your values and what you have to offer.
This is foundational in any relationship structure.
If you don’t know your capacity, boundaries, communication style, and emotional needs, no relationship—monogamous or polyamorous—will feel secure.
Building Healthier, More Conscious Relationships
Non-monogamy is not inherently more dangerous than monogamy.
What matters is whether you understand yourself, your values, your capacity, and your wounds.
This is why we created The Foundations Deck in The Non-Monogamy Card Game—to help people explore:
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emotional readiness
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attachment patterns
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boundaries
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communication needs
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values
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expectations
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relational capacity
These questions can save you from repeating painful cycles.
Final Thoughts: I Don’t Regret My Past—But I Learned From It
I don’t regret my relationship with C.
It taught me what I needed to heal, understand, and own within myself.
But I do see clearly now the ways I was hurting myself—and my children—because I was too overwhelmed, too lonely, and too ungrounded to have the necessary conversations.
Non-monogamy wasn’t the problem.
My lack of clarity, capacity, and self-awareness was.
And that is what I want others to understand:
Before you enter any relationship—monogamous, non-monogamous, polyamorous, or anything in between—do some inner work. Learn your values. Know your wounds. Get honest about your needs.
Healthy relationships start with healthy self-understanding.