Navigating Mono/Poly Relationships: Love Across Different Orientations

What it takes to balance safety and freedom, build trust without sameness, and honor both partners’ truths

A reader recently asked me:

“I would be interested in your take on mono/poly relationships. I am currently in this kind of relationship with my partner of 25 years. We recently opened our marriage after much learning, thought, and improved communication. However, there are still challenges and uncharted territories to navigate.”

For readers who may be new to the language, here’s a quick definition:

What is a mono/poly relationship?
A mono/poly relationship is one where one partner identifies as monogamous (wanting one romantic or sexual partner) and the other identifies as polyamorous (open to multiple romantic or sexual partners).

I also want to honor the tenderness of the question itself. Opening a marriage after decades together is both profoundly courageous and understandably unsettling. It’s not only about renegotiating agreements—it’s about shifting the very ground you’ve stood on as a couple, unlearning familiar patterns, and experimenting with entirely new ways of relating.

Beyond the two of you, your wider community and loved ones may also struggle as you begin to disrupt long-held expectations. What feels like growth from the inside can sometimes be met with confusion, discomfort, or even fear from the outside. Not only are you navigating your own internal shifts, but you may also be met with concern from others who worry your changes signal instability or an impending breakup—even if, in truth, these choices are deeply aligned with your values and ultimately serve the growth of both of you.

Let’s explore some of the unique layers of navigating a mono/poly relationship.

The Core Challenge: Different Orientations

When one partner identifies as monogamous and the other begins exploring polyamory, whether as an experiment, an emerging identity, or a long-term practice, you’re essentially relating across orientations. It’s not unlike being in an interfaith or intercultural marriage—shared love and values exist, but the “worldviews” about intimacy and belonging may be very different.

The question isn’t just “how do we make this work?” but also:

• How do we honor each partner’s authentic desires and orientation without coercion or collapse?

• How do we build a container that can flex without breaking?

Differentiation: Staying Connected Without Losing Yourself

One of the most powerful skills in navigating a mono/poly relationship is differentiation. Differentiation is the ability to maintain your sense of self (your desires, boundaries, and values) while staying emotionally connected to your partner.

In practice, it means:

• The monogamous partner can say, “I don’t want multiple partners, but I support your truth that you do.”

• The poly partner can say, “I want to explore other connections, and I also cherish the unique depth we share.”

Getting to this acceptance likely won’t happen overnight. But without working towards differentiation, couples often fall into two traps:

• Fusion: Collapsing into sameness, where one person abandons their individuality to match the other.

• Cutoff: Disconnection to protect oneself, which creates emotional distance and resentment.

Differentiation offers a third path: staying close while staying distinct. It allows each person to honor their orientation without needing the other to mirror it. For mono/poly couples, this is essential: the poly partner can expand without abandoning, and the monogamous partner can feel secure without controlling. Real intimacy doesn’t come from collapsing into sameness. It emerges when two whole people choose to meet each other again and again—difference and all.

Why Distance Fuels Desire

Most of us were raised on cultural myths that glorify fusion. The “happily ever after” narrative tells us love means becoming one person, having the same desires, making the same choices, moving in lockstep. At first, that can feel romantic, even intoxicating, but over time it suffocates individuality. When partners collapse into sameness, curiosity, eroticism, and growth begin to wither.

As Esther Perel writes in Mating in Captivity: “Eroticism exists in the space between the self and the other. There can be no eroticism without distance.” Desire thrives when there is space to be curious about the other, when partners remain distinct enough that there is something still to discover. Differentiation creates that healthy distance; not as a threat, but as a source of vitality.

After twenty-five years together, it’s not uncommon to slip into codependent patterns—especially within a culture that glorifies the idea of “finding the one.” Part of this work is gently unwinding those habits. For the monogamous partner especially, this often means learning to cultivate sources of nourishment outside the marriage: friends, community, hobbies, spiritual practices, or creative outlets that fill the spaces once expected to be met solely by a primary partner. This isn’t about being ‘left behind.’ It’s an invitation to widen the places where we each draw connection and meaning so that no one feels abandoned, and both partners have room to flourish.