The Myth of the "One"

Growing up, I thought that I was heterosexual because I knew I liked boys and because I was raised to be hetero by my family and by society. I wasn't aware of nor educated about the possibility that I might be anything other than straight. Thus, I grew up oblivious to what a lot of my heart's desires meant (e.g. wanting to be physically close to girls etc). As approximately 90% of humans are straight, I suppose this de facto heteronormativity makes some sort of sense. However, the assumptions that goes along with it can be damaging in the long-run for the 10% of kids that don't fit the programming that their parents try to instill in them.

What tends to go along with the default socialization of children into socially typical gender roles is what I call the myth of the One. This is the notion that every person on the planet has a single soul mate, other half, better half, or complimentary piece to fit in that hole in ourselves to feel complete. This belief is so pervasive, it has been around since the time of Plato:

Although I have to say I prefer this version from Hedwig & the Angry Inch

Anyone who has listened to the radio, watched a romcom or Disney film, or has read Twilight (I know you're out there people!) has been exposed to the idea of the One. Find the One and everything in your life will work out for the best, fall into place, make sense etc. There are self-help books, websites, and seminars to help you find and keep the One. There are pages and pages of "inspirational quotes" about finding the One. Here's a gem I found that made me gag:

Umm, what?!

When I was with my ex (let's call him Seabass) many moons ago, I truly believed that he was my One. We met during a street music festival one night in a small town in Quebec, something that I thought was romantic as hell. Seabass and I believed our connection was special and something straight out of a movie. We even talked about our relationship abstractly in those terms, and I started a scrapbook that began with "Once upon a time..." (I'm shuddering inwardly as I type this). Seabass and I had what I call a "looks great on paper" relationship. We were both professionally employed, stable, clean, and outdoorsy people. We went on trips abroad together. We spent time with both sets of parents. Towards the second half of our relationship, things started to feel like a sham for me. I was so invested in the fairytale of the One, that I stayed in that relationship much longer that I should have.

Thus, the myth of the One was damaging for me. How was I supposed to move forward in life and love when my fairytale ending with Seabass never came to be? I felt lost. The compass by which I had been setting much of my life by was now defunct. I was heartbroken and painfully disillusioned. I felt cynical and scared. I decided that it was best if I stopped dating altogether.

After a while, I fell in love again. This time with a woman. And I began to explore the concept of the One with a woman - maybe my One is supposed to be female? However, it became clear that no, that wouldn't work either because I was seeking something that I could not find from one person no matter what gender they were or how many people I dated. Around the time that that relationship was starting to go south, I befriended a non-binary person named J who was very open about their polyamorous practices. I asked questions, I contemplated if poly would be a good fit for my needs, I researched, and I came across really helpful videos like this one that normalized my desires and feelings:

And one day, while doing some household chores, I came across an original drawing that made me go huh:

The title reads Reclaiming my own Energy - November 2003. Its a self-portrait of sorts.

Sometimes I have to laugh at myself (and my intuition). I created this image even though I had no idea that a heart with an infinity overlay was the symbol of polyamory! And this was before my relationship with Seabass! Maybe my subconscious knew all along that I was poly and was trying to communicate with my ego.

The Bear recently asked me when I decided to "go poly." After looking back over my life and dating experience, I would say that I have always been poly.  I just didn't have the awareness, language, or socially-approved script to follow to make it a part of my conscious lifestyle until the past few years. I also have come to realize that poly allows for several Ones to coexist in your life at the same time. Each person that you are partnered with brings value, joy, and love to your life. AND poly is realistic in that no one person is expected to fulfill all your needs - which takes pressure off one person trying to be your everything. Thus, I would say that poly makes love more fair for all Ones involved.

But what about commitment? What about it? Folks who think that polyamorous people can't commit are dead wrong. I would say that poly requires more commitment because you need to commit your time, energy, and resources to more than one person. Thus, I feel that poly has made me a more loving, more committed partner to my loves. And it feels good to have finally arrived at a place where I feel my needs are met, I'm committed to and happy with all my Ones, and that I no longer feel lost when navigating through the relationships of the world.