Modern Relationship Models: Why I Believe Polyamory and Open Relationships Are Often Toxic

I’ve been there.

I’ve tried polyamory.

I’ve been in open relationships.

I once believed in the grand ideal of love without ownership—the romantic notion that humans are free, that love can’t be contained, that jealousy is just a sign of spiritual immaturity. Sounds pretty enlightened, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, in practice, it’s often little more than self-deception in a pretty package.

The deeper I got into these relationship models, the more clearly I saw: this isn’t really about freedom. And it’s certainly not about love. More often than not, people turn to these setups not because they’re brave, clear, or self-aware—but because they’re afraid. Afraid of intimacy. Afraid of being left. Afraid of missing out. Afraid of truly being seen. And yes—afraid of commitment.

Blaming monogamy for unhappy relationships is a seductive idea.

It gives you a convenient villain.

If your relationship isn't working, it must be the model’s fault, right? Not yours. So instead of looking in the mirror, we change the framework: open things up, call it polyamory, call it conscious relating, call it evolved love. What often follows is chaos in stylish clothes: more confusion, more hurt, more emotional imbalance—with a hefty side of theory to justify it all.

I’ve seen people unravel in open dynamics. Rationalizing their unmet needs, spiritualizing their jealousy, dismissing their longing for exclusivity as "ownership issues"—while quietly falling apart. I’ve witnessed couples open their relationships not from a place of empowerment or freedom, but out of fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of the financial fallout of a breakup. So they changed the setup, hoping it would fix what was fundamentally broken. Newsflash: shit in, shit out.If you’re a mess on the inside, no relationship model will make it smell like roses.

Many people then live in this illusion of freedom and joy, while all they’re really doing is repeating their old patterns. Reenacting childhood dynamics, unresolved trauma—control games, anxious-avoidant loops, fear of abandonment. If love has always meant drama, open relationships can feel strangely familiar. But not everything that feels familiar is healthy. Pro tip: chances are, your monogamous relationships didn’t fail because of the model—they failed because of these exact patterns.

Here’s the big paradox: open relationships and polyamory can work

—in theory—if everyone involved is emotionally independent, deeply self-aware, genuinely self-loving, and at peace with themselves.

But let’s be honest: people like that don’t usually need to escape into complex relationship structures. They know their worth. They’re not looking for validation from ten different lovers. They don’t need a relationship model to compensate for shaky self-esteem.

Of course—this is just my perspective.

My experience.

I’m not here to judge anyone’s life choices. Every person has the right (and in many cases the need) to explore, to stumble, to figure out what works and what doesn’t. I’m grateful I went down this road—not because it was always pleasant, but because it forced me to see the parts of myself I hadn’t wanted to face. And because it taught me that the mirror we hold up in relationships will always reflect ourselves—whether we’re monogamous, polyamorous, or whatever else.

In the end, it’s not about the model. It’s about you.And if you’re willing to look honestly, you’ll find the answer not in how many people you’re dating, but in how well you can sit with yourself. Alone. And in true intimacy.

Those who can do that, have a real choice.Everyone else just has a concept.