By Maria Padhila
Back at the beginning of this year, Franklin Veaux, a singularly astute and knowledgeable writer on relationships, put up an essay: “Polyamory: Some thoughts on rules.”

Since then, the idea of rules vs. boundaries has bubbled up both in forums where Veaux has been writing and speaking and among other poly forums and commentators.
I’ve found it really interesting myself. It’s a long piece, but I’d even call it required reading for relationships. Even monogamous ones — do you have a rule that your significant other can’t go to strip clubs, for instance? Read this.
The point is not, not, not to convince you you’re wrong about having rules or standards. You and your significant might still decide strip clubs aren’t for you, but after working through the processes and techniques outlined here, the difference is that you’ll understand why — and you may also decide that you aren’t going to buy electronics made in China, for instance.
Veaux came to the topic, he says, because he himself finds relationships tend to work better when not under what he calls “a codex of regulations that would make a bureaucrat blush.”
Being from Washington, D.C., I can assure Mr. Veaux that bureaucrats have no shame, but yeah, I can agree. His position is still contrarian, however, when you consider that for most people thinking of polyamory, laying down the ground rules is the first rule they’re given by others. Veaux writes:
Often, when I say that [no rules], folks will look at me as though I’ve sprouted an extra head. “How can you have a relationship without rules?” I’ve been asked by poly folks. “I mean, sure, that’s all well and good if you just want anarchy, with people running around doing whatever they want with no commitment, but you can’t build real relationships that way!”
Which is a bit of a head-scratcher to me, because it sounds quite a lot like a monogamous person telling a poly person “How can you have a relationship without monogamy? I mean, sure, that’s all well and good if you just want anarchy, with people running around shagging whoever they want with no commitment, but you can’t build real relationships that way!”
Veaux first looks at the differences between rules and boundaries, defining (for himself, now — remember this is to touch off more communication, not simply to set up a different set of rules!) rules as something one person imposes on another, and boundaries as something you set for yourself. Here are his examples:
Rule: “I forbid you to have un-barriered sex with any other person.”
Boundary: “In order to protect my sexual health, I reserve the right to discontinue having sexual intercourse with you if you have unbarriered sex with any other person.”
Being from the self-responsibility camp (from both my pagan background and from burner inclinations) this appealed to me greatly. How, after all, can I really control another’s behavior? Let alone that I don’t want to have to. (I say, as I sit here after laying down the pool rules for a group of kids — no running, no yelling, no diving. I am the hard-ass in the group, always, when it comes to controlling kids. But those are kids. I don’t want to have to police my lovers that way.)
He points out what he calls a “hidden cost” to rules, one I tend not to think about too often. The rules are usually made by the original or primary couple — and the success of any relationship, as he says, is judged by how well the primary couple makes it.
Do the ‘secondaries’ get any say? Not usually. But isn’t considering the impact on, and of, all parties the essence of polyamory?
Confusing, hmmm?
Typical rule he cites, for instance: “I forbid you to go to Clayton’s House of Clams with any other date, because that’s the restaurant where we had our first date.” But what if the new person likes the special at Clayton’s too? Too bad; it would hurt the one who ‘got there first’ too much. But does the original partner really care that much about clams — or is it all about what happens when you open up that clam, so to speak?
Often, in my experience, people use rules as indirect, passive ways to try to get their needs met. Instead of clearly articulating the need, such as ‘I have a need to feel special and valued by you,’ they will think of something that makes them feel special and valued, and then pass a rule to say ‘I require you to do this thing’ or ‘I forbid you to do this thing with others.’
Recently, I sent a big list of dates for the next couple months to both Isaac and Chris. I put Isaac’s time in green and Chris’ in purple. I also pointed out a weekend when we didn’t need child care, Isaac was working a long, fast-turnaound pair of shifts, and Chris was free. I said I wanted to stay with him those nights.
But we have a rule about overnights — I only ‘get’ to have them when I’m traveling with Chris. Isaac grumbled something about “I guess the rules don’t mean anything.” I said I didn’t particularly care about the rules, seeing as how the calendar I’d sent was almost solid green, and that he was working the whole time, and that I really needed that time. The rule began to seem arbitrary and even a little nonsensical. The need behind it was not to leave one person stuck home alone and lonely (or taking care of kids) while others are out having fun. Even though I’m not responsible for another person’s feelings of loneliness, I want to do what I can to help someone I love feel OK with things (or better, most of the time).
Here’s the simple — not to be confused with easy — fix that Veaux proposes:
Whenever someone proposes a rule, I make it a habit to ask myself three questions:
1. What is the purpose of this rule?
2. Does the rule serve the purpose it is intended to serve?
3. Is this rule the only way to serve this purpose?
Veaux points out that even the most strongly held rule by many — rules about protection of sexual health — are actually there to serve other purposes. Such a rule could be less about preserving health and more about helping a ‘fluid-bonded’ few feel more exclusive to each other.
Of course STD rules and concerns matter. Please don’t write in and tell me I’m crazy to say they don’t, because that’s not what I’m saying, and I’m neither crazy nor stupid. But if what’s behind that rule is a need to feel exclusive, how workable and effective is that rule really going to be? Doesn’t it have a good potential for failure? And then, nobody gets what they want or need.
As Veaux says: “Talking openly about what’s really going on below the surface is scary, and hard, and involves making ourselves vulnerable. But we poly folks talk all the time about how important communication is. It’s even more important that we actually do it. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
So well written!
The only “rules” Dave and I have are about being open and honest with each other and not harming the kids.
So even though we both feel better about the relationship if each is exclusive (monogamous) with the other, we are open to allowing others in IF the person wanting that is honest about it and openly discusses it with the partner beforehand. The partner must be equally honest about any fears they have. This honesty doesn’t mean one gets to control the other; just as my feelings count if I want something his count if he doesn’t.
Then the question for both of us is “What will the change do to the kids? What risks does that change impart to them? How will the change affect them?” This is because though our feelings have equal weight, we feel the kids feelings have more weight because they are dependent on us and unable to freely opt out of the issue because of that underage dependence. Either of us could opt out and move on but kids cannot; they get caught in the adult cross-fire of choices and it isn’t always best for the kids.
So when I say to people “I am monogamous and Dave would be hurt if I wanted anyone else,” I am being honest about the way things are between us. That doesn’t mean I couldn’t have another person in my life if I talked to Dave about it beforehand and we were sure the kids would be ok with it. Likewise for Dave. So the “rules” that seem to constrain me are partly self imposed out of a desire not to do harm to him or the kids because I know how they feel about adding another person. I don’t see that constraint as a bad thing; to me it is like a rose bush that grows more roses when it is pruned back.