It's Not Always Jealousy: Learning from Envy in Polyamory
Why emotional asymmetry isn’t a flaw—and what it can teach us about what we’re truly longing for
I recently wrote a piece on Marie Thouin’s Compersion Blog titled When Saying No Comes From Love: A Story of Compersion in Action, about my choice to sit out a Jamaica trip so my nesting partner Skye could celebrate his other partner Bexx’s 40th birthday with uninterrupted quality time.
At the time, I felt clear. Confident, even. It was a grounded “no” rooted in trust, not scarcity. And then—about halfway through their trip—I was surprised by a wave of big feelings.
What arose wasn’t jealousy. I didn’t fear losing my partner or being replaced. It was something else: loneliness followed by envy—a tender, aching desire to be on an adventure with another partner myself. With someone who delights in traveling with me and wants to co-create that kind of experience with me at the center of it.
What’s the Difference Between Jealousy and Envy?
This moment offered a real-time lesson in the emotional nuance of non-monogamy—particularly the difference between jealousy and envy, which often get lumped together but feel very different in the body.
Jealousy tends to be fear-based. It’s what arises when we feel threatened—when there’s a perceived risk of being replaced or losing something we care about.
Envy, on the other hand, is rooted in longing. It shows up when we see something someone else has and realize, “Oh… I want that too.”
What I felt wasn’t actually about my nesting partner or metamour, or the intimacy they were sharing. It was about me—and a desire that had been quietly living inside me, waiting to be named.
Envy as a Mirror for Grief
The pang of envy opened a door I hadn’t fully walked through yet: the quiet grief of a recent breakup. I had been seeing someone I cared for deeply—someone who lit up my heart and body in beautiful ways—but who, for many reasons, wasn’t able to meet me in the kind of partnership I now know I’m ready for.
It didn’t end because there was a lack of affection. It ended because there was a mismatch in availability and capacity. Too many moments where I left feeling like I was reaching for something I couldn’t quite land in.
In the silence of Skye’s absence—in the sun-soaked photos from Jamaica, in the spaciousness of my own solitude—I finally heard what my envy was trying to say:
You want to be chosen for the playful adventure, too.
You want to be someone’s “hell yes.”
You want reciprocity. Initiative.
That ache was telling the truth. And the grief that followed wasn’t about what I lacked in that relationship—it was about the part of me that’s becoming clearer. The part that knows what she wants, and is learning how to honor that without settling, shrinking, or holding out hope for a maybe.
Letting Envy Point the Way
We’re often taught to see envy as something shameful or small. But I’ve come to understand it as a kind of emotional compass. When we meet it with compassion, envy becomes a map—illuminating what matters, what’s missing, and what we might be ready to welcome in.
And I want that alongside everything I already have. I don’t need a replica of anyone else’s dynamic. I want my own flavor of connection and adventure—rooted in mutual availability and shared vision.
Polyamory Isn’t Even. And That’s Okay.
If you’re practicing non-monogamy, it’s worth remember that this isn’t a game of keeping score. Relationships aren’t spreadsheets. Equity doesn’t mean symmetry.
My nesting partner being on a beach with my metamour while I was at home grieving doesn’t mean something’s broken. It just means we’re humans, having different chapters of our journeys at the same time.
And that emotional mismatch—what I sometimes call relational asymmetry—can stir up big feelings. When our experiences diverge, it’s easy to start writing painful stories: “They’re moving on without me,” or “My needs don’t matter.”
The work, for me, is learning to hold those uneven moments without collapsing into resentment or bypassing my own feelings. To grieve what needs grieving. To name what’s missing. And to let that clarity call in something new—without demanding that my partner’s life mirror mine.
The Myth of “Symmetrical Polyamory”
I see this a lot—especially in couples who are newly opening up:
“We’ll only go on dates at the same time.”
“We’ll both find someone new, so it feels even.”
“Things will feel better once we both have secondary partners.”
There’s nothing wrong with wanting mutual care and pacing. Those instincts are understandable—especially when we’re trying to prevent pain or avoid spiraling into insecurity.
But here’s the truth: asymmetry in non-monogamy is inevitable. And trying to control for it too tightly often backfires.
You can’t force timing to match up. One partner might be building a beautiful new relationship while the other hasn’t yet found a strong connection. One might be feeling expansive, while the other is navigating contraction, grief, or doubt.
And while it’s human to hope things will feel better when experiences align—when we’ve both “caught up” in some way, the resilience we’re looking for doesn’t come from matching each other’s external experiences. It comes from learning how to stay kind, connected, and self-aware even when things feel lopsided.
This kind of emotional mismatch can easily lead to hurt if we assume our partner's joy invalidates our pain—or if we shut down because we feel “behind.” But the truth is: asymmetry doesn’t mean something’s wrong.
It means we’re being asked to build emotional muscles beyond just our partnerships. To self-soothe. To reach for community. To stay connected to our own values, even when our experiences diverge. And to trust that reconnection is still possible—even when our timelines don’t line up.
The Call to Self-Soothing & Community
Non-monogamy will always bring moments when the person we usually turn to… just isn’t available. They’re with someone else. Or resting. Or in another emotional landscape entirely.
And so we’re invited to ask:
How do I care for myself in those moments?
Who else do I have in my orbit that I can lean on?
What practices actually help me feel more secure, centered, and resourced?
This is where solo poly folks often shine—because they’ve built scaffolding around their lives that doesn’t rely on just one partner. But no matter our relationship structure, all of us need a village—friends, chosen family, community—to turn toward when our primary attachment figures aren’t accessible.
Because the truth is: emotional resilience doesn’t come from having perfectly synced experiences. It comes from staying connected to our values, self-soothing when needed, reaching for support, and trusting that reconnection is still possible—even when our timelines don’t match.
Envy, Grief, and Compersion Can Coexist
Sometimes, in the effort to be “good at polyamory,” we try to perform compersion without leaving room for the more complex truths that live beneath the surface. But in reality, multiple feelings can coexist:
I can feel joy for Skye and Bexx’s deepening bond and ache for that kind of energy in my own life. I can trust the structure of our relationship and long for another one that’s structured differently. I can celebrate their milestone and mourn the one I longed for and didn’t get to experience.
Read the Original Piece
If you missed it, here’s the original piece I wrote on Marie Thouin’s blog—before the envy and grief came knocking:
👉 When Saying No Comes From Love: A Story of Compersion in Action
And here’s the truth I’m living now: That decision to skip the trip to Jamaica was still right for me.
But now I’m living into the next layer of clarity it revealed.
What Has Envy Taught You About What You’re Ready For?
If you’ve ever felt envy in non-monogamy, I’d love to hear what it taught you. What did that pang point you toward? What have your longings revealed about the kind of connection you’re truly ready for?
Leave a comment or just take a breath with me. These feelings aren’t always easy—but they’re rich with wisdom, if we’re willing to listen and take care of the parts of us and the needs they reveal.
This was so beautiful to read! You have such a calming, almost teacher-like way of explaining things. This helped me name some feelings I’ve been having and couldn’t quite understand until now.