It’s 11pm. Your partner is out with someone new. They have done absolutely nothing you didn’t agree to, and yet your chest still feels tight. You meant every word when you said you wanted them to have a great time. You also want to throw your phone against the wall.

That gap between how you want to behave and how your brain and body are reacting is what this post is about.

I was not originally going to tackle this subject so soon. However, I recently gave a lightning talk about gremlin thoughts for some friends. One week later, I got the following message from an acquaintance:

[My friend] was at your party this past week and told me about Gremlin thoughts and I have to say, it has invaded my language now. I’ve shared it with my other partners and it’s now part of our vernacular. Thank you.

Knowing that a shorthand I came up with to facilitate communications for my own relationships resonated enough to start making its way through San Francisco polycules (the connected web of people in a group of non-monogamous relationships) was delightful. Since the framework is already making the rounds, I figured I would tackle it here sooner rather than later.

What are gremlin thoughts?

Gremlin thoughts is the name I give to thoughts, feelings, and emotions that prod me toward doing things that conflict with my values and with what I want when I’m thinking clearly. They show up when no one has done anything wrong, and I still feel bad. They are thoughts and feelings I may even feel a bit ashamed of having.

I use the label as a catch-all for thoughts, physical feelings, and emotions. When you are activated, all of these things often arrive in one big, jumbled mess, with feelings and thoughts influencing each other. Distinguishing between a thought and a feeling in the middle of a panic spike is difficult, and the difference does not matter all that much. Having one simple umbrella label saves the energy of categorizing which is which.

One way I see this come up often in polyamory is with jealousy. There can be a thought along the lines of, “If I were a good poly person, I would not be feeling this!” This is sometimes also paired with shame or embarrassment. Because we do not want to be feeling these things, there is a strong urge to keep them to ourselves. This is especially true if we do not feel the other person has crossed any boundaries.

The truth is: thoughts arrive uninvited, with no particular regard for our values or how we want to relate to others. Jealousy (or any other feeling) showing up doesn’t make someone a bad poly person (or a bad person). It just makes them a person. We can’t necessarily control our thoughts and feelings, but we can decide to take a look at them and be intentional about how we respond to them.

The occurrence of gremlin thoughts is not limited to non-monogamy. They can also come up just as often in a monogamous relationship, or with platonic friendships!

For example, a friend or partner might back out of weekend plans because they are burnt out and need rest. Logically, my values dictate that connections should be fed by a genuine desire to be there, not by obligation. I actively want to support my friends and partners cancelling and rescheduling, whether it be to recharge, or because a special event came up that they’re excited about. If I was really looking forward to those plans, my body might still serve up some feelings. I can simultaneously feel good about them honoring their boundaries and doing what’s best for them while my body and mind produce gremlin thoughts.

Diagnosing gremlin thoughts

When you are in the thick of a panic response, it is easy to let anxiety dictate the next move. Having a clear sense of values provides a necessary anchor in these moments. [See values-aligned action over emotional reactivity].

Here are some questions you could ask yourself to determine if you are dealing with gremlin thoughts:

• Am I physically or emotionally depleted right now? Physical exhaustion or burnout can make it much harder to stay regulated.

• Does this reaction align with how I would feel about the situation if I were completely calm? This helps isolate whether the distress is coming mostly from adrenaline.

• What is this feeling asking me to do? And do I want to do it? If the action it’s suggesting is one you’d reject in a calm moment, you’re likely looking at a gremlin.

• Is this reaction rooted in a scarcity mindset? Scarcity mindset makes everything feel urgent, like love, time, or attention are suddenly running out.

• Am I feeling insecure right now? Insecurity can create a false alarm, causing the body to interpret neutral information as a threat.

• Did an agreement get broken, or did a boundary get crossed?

That last question is important. If an agreement was broken or a boundary was crossed, it is not a gremlin thought. It is a legitimate relationship issue that requires a conversation. That includes boundaries you didn’t know you had until someone walked through them, and while there’s no one to hold accountable for that, it is still worth naming out loud.

Comparing your current state to a calm baseline requires having a calm baseline to compare to, and not everyone does. If those questions feel unanswerable right now, that isn’t a personal failing. It’s a skill, and it gets easier with practice and often with help.

[future topics: what are my values?; Am I angry, or am I insecure?]

What if it’s both?

Feelings aren’t always so clear-cut, and it may be a bit of both: a gremlin thought, and a signal that something is wrong or that you have an ask.

Your partner was a little careless about the scheduling, and your reaction is roughly four hundred percent larger than the carelessness warrants. Your friend did make a remark that felt bad to you, and you have not slept properly in a week.

Both can be true, and both can be named. More on how to do this a bit further on. :)

Warning: the self-blame trap

It is important to point out that this framework requires a solid baseline of self-trust and an ability to objectively view a situation. If your default internal narrative is that you are always in the wrong, searching your thoughts and emotions for gremlins can easily lead to you calling things gremlins that are not, and can be weaponized against your own self-esteem.

If you chronically take the blame when frictions arise, skip this post for now, and focus first on building foundational self-compassion and learning to trust your own reality. This will still be here later, and will be far more useful once you have a more solid foundation to stand on.

More on ways I imagine this framework could be misused in Handle with care .

What’s in a name: the power of a primer

In the past few years, I’ve realized that creating a shared vocabulary for difficult and nuanced concepts makes it easier for both parties to collaborate on the topic that the words help describe.

I started using the term “gremlin thoughts” because I wanted a conversational primer that would signal to my partner or friend that I was about to share something highly emotional . And because these reactions often contradict my values, I am likely embarrassed to bring them up, and sharing may feel difficult. If we’ve already established the use of gremlin thoughts and what they mean, then starting a conversation by acknowledging that gremlin thoughts are incoming helps set up a comfortable and safe container (a shared sense of what this conversation is and isn’t).

Being able to communicate all of this with just two words helps both sides of the conversation:

• For the Sharer: It gives you an easy script when your brain is too activated to find the “right” words. It means you do not need to repeat the same disclaimers every time you are struggling. Instead of having to explicitly state, “I don’t think you did anything wrong,” “I am not asking you to change anything,” or “I feel ashamed of this reaction,” the label communicates all of that context instantly. It also removes the pressure to be perfectly articulate, making it much easier to speak freely.

• For the Listener: It helps disarm defensiveness. It signals that the other person is sharing internal discomfort, not assigning blame or demanding that behaviors be changed. It helps the listener be ready to listen and ready to offer care instead of preparing for an argument.

Additionally, if you like the idea, but “gremlin thoughts” doesn’t quite resonate with you, then you could collaborate with your partner or friend to come up with a term that feels right for you! The phrase itself doesn’t matter so much; having a shared vocabulary is the important part.

Why share gremlin thoughts

It can be very tempting to keep gremlin thoughts to yourself. If you're not asking the other person to change anything, why bring it up at all?

Sometimes, a gremlin thought is soft enough that it can settle with a bit of internal processing. But when it lingers or feels heavy, bringing it into the open is the most helpful path forward.

Bottled up too long, difficult emotions tend to curdle. It feels bad to hold them in. Plus, unexpressed frictions easily turn into resentment. That resentment inevitably bleeds out into the dynamic, often causing people to act poorly toward the exact person they were trying to “protect” from their feelings.

More importantly, hiding reality damages intimacy. As I noted in a previous post (Love without entitlement): without a baseline of honesty, we cannot be truly close to someone.

Maintaining a level of closeness with someone requires understanding what their internal reality looks like. Sharing your gremlin thoughts gives the other person the gift of transparency, and it provides them a clear opportunity to step in and offer support during a hard time.

If someone shows you they consistently cannot receive your honesty, that’s helpful information and it’s worth knowing. We can’t force others to behave in certain ways. What we get to do is decide how close we want to be to people, based on how they show up.

Real-world example: new connections during a hard time

A while back, my partner Franz started seeing someone new. It was during a time when I was navigating a lot of general anxiety about other things. Everything felt harder for me during this time, and his new connection brought up a very strong surge of difficult feelings.

However, I did not think that Franz was doing anything wrong. He was being completely honest with me, and no boundaries were being crossed. One of my core values in romantic relationships is supporting my partners in being autonomous. My logical brain actively wanted to support this new connection.

Franz and I had already established the term gremlin thoughts in our shared vocabulary, so I started a conversation by telling him I had some gremlin thoughts to share.

I explained that I was struggling in general, and my exhausted brain was projecting that anxiety onto his new connection. I explicitly asked him not to take on any responsibility for these feelings, and I encouraged him to continue seeing her in the way he was excited to. Instead of asking him to change his behavior, I asked for the exact care that would be helpful: extra reassurance and extra messages of love.

See what happened next in back to the story: transparency in practice.

How to share gremlin thoughts

So, you’ve decided to share a gremlin thought. Great!

Treating difficult emotions with care takes a lot of energy. Before dropping into an emotional conversation, checking for capacity—both your own and the receiver’s. If someone just worked an all-nighter or navigated a highly stressful day, they might not have the bandwidth to engage with care. Asking if it is a good time gives them the opportunity to fully opt in to the conversation or set a specific time when they will be ready to listen.

One way to check capacity is by using the HALT acronym. Originally used in addiction recovery to help people identify the physical or emotional root of a behavioral urge, it stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. The Multiamory podcast expanded this to HHALTDS to include Horny, Drinking, and Sick (though they rightly note it lacks the same catchy ring). Running through this list may help you decide if you have the resources to hold space for a vulnerable conversation.

Once capacity is established, lead with the primer: “I have some gremlin thoughts I would like to share.”

If this is the very first time introducing the concept to this person, it’s worth taking a moment to explain what you mean:

• You’re bringing up an emotion, not an accusation.

• You’re being vulnerable, and you’d like some patience while you find the words.

• You’re not asking them to own the feeling or change their behavior to make it go away. In fact, you’re asking them not to do these things.

Once the container is set, the hard part gets much easier to say out loud.

Naming both at once

Let’s say you’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a combination of gremlin thoughts and a signal that something is wrong or something you want to ask for. When both are true, I suggest naming them both, separately and clearly.

An example:

Two things, and I want to keep them apart so they don’t get mixed up. First, the one with an ask in it: that joke about my job in front of your friends stung a little. I’d like to talk about why that felt bad and ask that you don’t make that joke anymore. Second, the gremlin: my brain spent the whole drive home building a case that you’re embarrassed by me, which I feel pretty confident isn’t true based on your past behavior. That part isn’t yours to fix, although some reassurance would help. And it would help to hear that you’re glad I shared, assuming that’s true.

Splitting them means the ask gets heard as an ask, and the gremlin gets heard as a gremlin.

Care requests

After sharing the gremlin thoughts, it helps to say what would feel good while you process. Keeping these asks simple and actionable makes a difference.

Here is a non-exhaustive list of actionable requests one could pull from when establishing what support looks like:

• Can we have 15 minutes of dedicated snuggle time?

• Would you send me a quick voice memo telling me a story about a time you felt really connected to me?

• Would you be up for dropping random animal gifs, cute memes, or extra hearts in my chat a few times tomorrow while I am at work?

• Could we do a video call before bed so we can connect and I can see your face?

• Would you remind me of three things you appreciate about our dynamic right now?

• Would you hold my hand or keep a hand on my leg while we watch a show tonight?

I’d also love to hear from others on this! What is your go-to reassurance request? 🤗

How to receive gremlin thoughts and feelings

When someone tells you gremlin thoughts are incoming, that’s your cue to run HALT (or HHALTDS) on yourself. Holding space for someone else’s hard feelings takes real effort, and it’s worth knowing whether you have resources and ability before you say yes.

If you don’t have it in you, say so. Punting the conversation is a totally fine thing to do, provided there is intent to come back to the conversation. Offering a specific time when you feel you’ll be more able (like “after dinner” or “tomorrow morning”) shows interest in having the conversation while also keeping anyone from having to push through and engage when they are depleted. Without this, it can easily feel as though the topic is being avoided.

Once the conversation begins, your job is to simply listen. And while you do this, do your best not to internalize blame or take ownership of the emotion.

After the gremlin thoughts are fully out in the open, if support has not already been requested, asking what would feel good to receive is a solid next step.

The temptation to over-accommodate or withhold the truth

It can be tempting to try and fix the discomfort by immediately offering to change behavior to make the bad feeling go away. Don’t fall into the trap!

If you instantly change what you’re doing to shield someone from a bad feeling, especially when they’ve explicitly asked you not to, you’re actually making things harder for them. Shielding steals the opportunity for the person struggling to sit with the friction, self-soothe, and build emotional resilience. If you want to do something, ask what would help.

A secondary temptation is to stop volunteering information in an attempt to prevent a gremlin thought from triggering in the first place. This once again removes the opportunity for the other person to work through their discomfort, and it degrades the connection. It can make the struggling person feel even more anxious, because sensing that information is being kept from you tends to feel much worse than just hearing the information.

This is different from someone asking you to hold off on details for a bit while they recalibrate. That’s a request they made, and honoring it is fine. It’s also worth recognizing that in some poly dynamics, both partners agree to share only certain details, or to share only when asked. I feel pretty strongly that full transparency is important for continued closeness. What matters most, though, is being honest to the full extent of what was agreed upon, and not holding back, altering, or sugarcoating facts or feelings to spare your partner a hard feeling. The problem isn’t how much gets shared. It’s deciding on your own that someone can’t handle something, and never telling them you decided.

Continuing to give the gift of honesty, even when it causes temporary discomfort or difficult feelings, is what allows a connection to remain genuine.

Back to the story: transparency in practice

I’ll now return to the story with Franz.

I’d handed Franz the gremlin, asked him for extra showings of love, and explicitly asked him not to change a thing about the connection he was excited about.

It went as I had hoped. He listened, offered reassurance, sent the extra lovey messages I requested, continued seeing the new person, and maintained honesty and transparency.

By choosing to hold my own feelings and ask for reassurance, the anxiety began to lose its grip. I did not need to manipulate the situation or build restrictive walls to feel safe. Instead, asking for support while the feeling passed helped my nervous system settle while allowing both of us to maintain our autonomy, and keeping my actions aligned with my values.

When we established that I had the capacity to hear about dates, he shared how they went and was honest that he had a great time. If there were times I was exhausted and wanted to wait before hearing updates, he would hold off until I was rested. Sometimes hearing these updates would cause temporary pangs of challenging feelings for me, but alongside them were strong surges of joy and love. It felt incredibly good to me that he was maintaining transparency during a time when many would be tempted to minimize the truth to dampen hard feelings.

The result was a connection that continued to feel honest, secure, and loving.

How this felt for Franz:

When Mollie first brought up that she was having difficult feelings about a new connection of mine, the way she introduced it made a big difference in how things unfolded.

Past relationship experiences have left me sensitive to the feeling of being restricted or subtly manipulated, which often prompted me to react defensively. But because Mollie made it clear from the start that she wasn’t saying I had wronged her, it was easier to listen with compassion without feeling guarded.

Without defensiveness, my next instinct was to try and make her feel better in any way I could. In the past, that urge might have pushed me to start preemptively ‘fixing things’ even though this would have felt bad to me. Here, it helped that Mollie explicitly asked me not to own her feelings or change my behavior.

With that clarity, being supportive felt straightforward: full transparency is my natural inclination, and I was glad it also made her feel more secure knowing I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I took extra care to check if she wanted details before sharing, and her positive reinforcement – even when hearing updates brought up a pang – helped a lot. Giving extra love and reassurance was easy because it came purely from care, rather than trying to make up for something I did wrong.

Overall, while I felt compassion for Mollie’s difficult feelings, they never felt like a threat to our relationship or a request to restrict my other connections. The gremlin thought framing made it easy to provide whatever support was needed while staying authentic to myself.

The reward of sharing gremlin thoughts

Navigating gremlin thoughts requires being vulnerable. It means admitting when the brain is manufacturing a crisis and suggesting actions that directly contradict your core values.

Refusing to hide these spikes helps keep a dynamic resilient. By bringing hard feelings and fears into the open, examining them without assigning blame, and asking for actionable support, the discomfort becomes a tool for connection rather than a wedge.

One last thing: the goal is not necessarily to kill the gremlin. The goal is closeness.

It’s tempting to treat all of this as a procedure for forcing the bad feeling to leave. It isn’t. Plenty of times I’ve shared a gremlin thought, gotten exactly the care I asked for, felt genuinely held, and the gremlin was still there for some time. The gremlin going away is not a prerequisite for achieving closeness. Naming it helps either way, though!

Over time, gremlin thoughts tend to lose their sharpness. Some go away entirely. Others ebb and flow as new experiences bring them back around. Either way, they get easier to meet, until eventually one shows up and you think, oh, it’s you again, and you already know what to do.

A relationship where the messiest, most uncomfortable parts of the brain do not have to be hidden is a relationship where it is possible to rest.

Before you go

What are your stories?

Want to share your own gremlin thought stories? I am working on a community stories post on this topic. If you have had an experience that you think folks could learn from, please share it here!

Additional resources

• Crucial Conversations: this is one of my favorite books of all time. It details why we should bring up the hard conversations rather than let them simmer, and gives a lot of helpful guidance on how to maintain a safe space while you do it!

• Multiamory HHALTDS episode: where they discuss HALT and HHALTDS.

Handle with care

Any framework that gives people language for hard feelings can be turned around and used to shut those feelings down. Here are the ways I can see that happening with gremlin thoughts, whether it’s someone else doing it to you or you doing it to yourself. I’m hoping that by naming it, it will help folks keep an eye out for it in the wild!

You name your own gremlins; nobody names them for you. Gremlin thoughts are yours to name for yourself. The moment someone else informs you that what you’re feeling is a gremlin thought, it has stopped being a tool for getting your hard feelings out and become a tool for getting them dismissed.

Reassurance is not a substitute for repair. Gremlin thoughts come with a built-in “you don’t need to change anything.” That’s the right ask for a gremlin, but it should not become a listener’s default. Watch for the person who dismisses or ignores an ask and reaches for only reassurance.

Watch for preemptive gremlins. Are you calling it a gremlin thought because it is one, or because “gremlin” feels like a friendlier or less frightening word than “concern”? If you find yourself opening with “this is probably just a gremlin thought, but…” every single time, notice it. Ask yourself if you’re brushing off your own feelings.

Be wary of the self-blame trap. I mentioned this above in the diagnosing gremlin thoughts section, but it’s worth restating here. If your default internal narrative is that you’re always in the wrong, this framework will only help you confirm that. Go looking for gremlins and you’ll find them everywhere, including in the places where something real happened. Build self-trust first! Come back to this later. <3

If you see this being weaponized in other ways, please let me know so I can keep this updated!

Franz read this before publication and okayed everything I’ve shared about him.

Art in this post made by Adora.

I share my life with people I call partners, alongside affectionate friendships and relationships that do not fit neatly into standard societal boxes. If I were to try to describe my life and relationships using the traditional relationship escalator, none of the standard labels would apply well. If I had to choose an existing label that best fits me, it would be relationship anarchist.

Some people look at relationship anarchy (RA) from the outside and claim it is an excuse to avoid responsibility or commitment. In practice, I see it as the exact opposite. It means building connections based on active, intentional choices rather than relying on default societal scripts.

The concept of relationship anarchy is not new, and many of the foundational ideas in this piece have been mapped out by others (for example, in Andi Nordgren’s instructional manifesto for relationship anarchy). My aim here is to describe the underlying concepts that drive how I personally approach relating to others and the reality of what relationship anarchy looks like in my day-to-day life.

Because there is too much ground to cover in one post, you will see bracketed placeholders throughout this piece pointing to topics I plan to tackle later. Over time, I look forward to diving into these specific areas with much more depth and personal context.

[Future topics: addressing relationship anarchy myths]

Dismantling the defaults

Building authentic connections requires actively unlearning the societal scripts we inherited. It means replacing the relationship escalator with a desire to understand how our connections function without a script.

Descriptive reality over prescriptive hierarchy

At the foundation of my relationship approach is a rejection of the idea that relationships should be ranked prescriptively.

Being anti-hierarchy does not mean I lack deep commitments. I often share my life with people I refer to as “partners.” We communicate almost daily and are heavily woven into each other’s lives. I also casually date other people and am open to exploring additional connections that may organically arise.

Someone might say “hold on… if you are more closely connected to some people you’re dating than others, isn’t that a hierarchy!??”

There’s an important distinction to be made here between our current reality and the rules we try to impose on the future. Descriptive reality is what is happening. It is a relationship’s current circumstances, like how much time two people spend together or how intertwined their daily lives are right now. It’s a description of the current shape of the connection. And that description can, and likely will, change over time as the people in that relationship evolve.

Prescriptive hierarchy, on the other hand, is a rule. It’s the idea that one relationship must always come first, and that it has inherent power over other relationships.

Designating a primary partner would put an artificial cap on the potential of every other connection. It applies a “first come, first serve” mentality to human connection, as if the person who got to someone earliest owns a permanent stake in their future as well as priority rights.

It’s also worth noting that removing prescriptive hierarchy does not mean forcing equality across all relationships. Because each relationship connection is distinct, the amount you overlap with one person will be different from how you (or they) overlap with someone else.

I strive to keep my relationships free of any prescriptive expectations saying we are entitled to our connection staying exactly that way forever. Rather, our connection is something we both continually contribute to and opt into.

Letting go of the idea that we are entitled to a particular place in our partners’ future creates space for each of us to continue to evolve as people, and for the shape of our connection to shift organically alongside us. When we stop trying to control the ongoing evolution of our connections, we are more accepting of what the other people in our relationships are interested and capable of offering as it changes over time. We are also more capable of cherishing the present.

[Future topics: veto power and gate-keeping, unintentional unethical hierarchy dynamics]

Romance-friendship parity and relationship spectrums

Our society conditions us to force every connection into one of two distinct boxes: “just friends” or “dating.” This creates a rigid binary where connections are either on the escalator toward a traditional partnership, or they are treated as less important.

Platonic connections can be just as central, committed, and profound as romantic ones. When we stop reserving our highest levels of communication, intention, and care exclusively for people we are romantic with, we open ourselves up to more possibilities and a much richer support system.

I try to approach new connections without expectation of where they will land and without forcing them into a predefined category. This is where the “anarchy” comes in: dismantling default relationship scripts in favor of intentional design.

Instead of a single line between friendship and romance, my approach to relationship anarchy views human connection as existing across dozens of different spectrums. Where do I land with someone on a sexual spectrum? What about a life-planning spectrum? How about emotional support?

Instead of finding the perfect label, I often prefer to use a few descriptive sentences to outline what a relationship is. Trying to force a living connection into a neat box usually creates unnecessary friction. The problem isn’t necessarily the idea of using labels; the issue is when we try to force a living connection to fit within a label that may not fit so well, rather than using a label (even if it means coming up with a new one!) that reflects the current descriptive reality. We end up prioritizing the label over the connection itself.

I still often use the label “partner” as a linguistic shorthand for external conciseness and clarity, even while knowing it doesn’t describe the full descriptive reality. Other times, I abandon standard categories altogether and come up with labels that fit best, often with the collaboration of the other person. For example, I have a “Seattle person” and an “Australia person”. And I once had a girlfriend that preferred being referred to and introduced as my “lover”.

You may notice I also use the word “partner” throughout this post. The label itself isn’t important; feel free to replace it in your head with whatever label you like!

[Future topics: what is romance anyways?, The spectrums of human connection, the rewards of a friendship-first approach]

Building a communal web of relationships

The end result is a communal web of relationships. When we refrain from funneling every need into one person or prescribing what each and every person in our lives will mean to us, we build a life that is fundamentally more resilient.

The standard relationship script dictates that we find a romantic partner, move in together, and allow them to default into becoming our primary source of domestic and social support. Our sense of emotional worth would come primarily from that central romantic relationship, creating a huge amount of dependence on that specific connection. If we look at the hierarchy from that perspective, it’s easy to see how this model of relying heavily on one person creates a fragile system. It turns a romantic relationship into a single point of failure.

As we move toward anarchy by opting into a variety of connections across various relational spectrums, we replace obligations with organic community and support. We stop demanding that one partner bear the weight of our entire emotional world, and instead allow a diverse network of people to show up for us exactly as they are capable.

Tools that make it all work

Removing default rules leaves a gap that must be filled with intentional behavior and an interest in continuing to build the emotional and communication skills that make it all work.

Saying the quiet parts out loud, especially when it’s hard

Existing in a space without scripts requires a willingness to state desires explicitly and boundaries out loud. If our level of closeness is to be dictated by who we are and what we value, we have to have a means of sharing that. A commitment to transparency and direct communication is required.

Honesty isn’t just a prerequisite for relationship anarchy. Without a baseline of honesty, we cannot be truly close to someone, regardless of the relationship style. Without a commitment to the truth, partners end up with a false foundation built on assumptions, projection, and incomplete information. It can also lead to a situation where people are walking on eggshells rather than communicating honestly.

But in RA configurations, honesty is especially important because there is no default script or relationship escalator to fall back on. When we remove societal obligations, the connection survives entirely on the organic intersection of what we both actively want and have the capacity to give. If we are not radically honest about what those wants and capacities are, we end up building a connection with a fictional version of each other.

I heavily prioritize clarity over comfort. When someone tells me what they assume I want to hear instead of the truth, they are actively denying me the one thing I desire: the reality of the situation. I want the truth, even if it is uncomfortable or difficult for me to hear.

Unfortunately, this is not how most people behave. It is quite common to make decisions for the other person about whether or not they can handle the truth. We can sometimes assume that because honesty might make someone feel bad, it is better to withhold it.

For many, this practice requires actively reprogramming one’s brain to view hard truths as a positive thing rather than a threat. This can take work, but the alternative is committing to a fantasy. When you welcome the uncomfortable truth, you stop wasting energy managing illusions and restore your agency to make decisions based on honest reality.

[Future topics: Valuing truth over comfort, frictions vs fights / working through conflicts as collaborations, more on direct communication]

Values-aligned action over emotional reactivity

If we want to navigate relationships without relying on default scripts, developing emotional intelligence, and the ability to recognize the disparity between our immediate feelings and our logical thoughts, is a requirement.

I have been in the position before where I felt very intense anxiety and insecurity relating to a partner dating someone new. One example was during a time where I was depressed, burnt out, and pretty anxious in general. And that anxiety seemed to spill over everything, including my partner’s new connections.

An “easy out” here, and I think a way out that unfortunately many choose, would have been to ask for that partner to stop seeing the new person; however, I also knew that would have completely misaligned with my values and what the rational me wanted. Additionally, I knew that by pulling that ripcord, I would have robbed myself of the chance to examine my own insecurities, sit with the friction, and build my emotional resilience.

The reality is that sometimes feelings just feel bad. It is a vital relationship skill to understand the difference between a feeling simply hurting and a feeling indicating that something is actively wrong.

When in the thick of a panic response, it is easy to let anxiety dictate our actions. But if we have a clear sense of what our values are and how we want to show up, we can use those values as an anchor. Instead of requiring a partner to manage our emotional discomfort, we can choose to acknowledge the gap between our feelings and our values / logic.

In summary, the following things are extremely important for building connections rooted in autonomy: clarity about our values, a willingness to take note of when our emotions misalign with those values, and a genuine interest in growing through the discomfort that we feel when that misalignment happens. At the same time, we must be careful not to intellectualize away the emotions that are trying to protect us. If a feeling arises in response to a direct boundary violation, it is an alarm bell, not a growing pain. This practice is a diagnostic tool to check our internal alignment, not a mandate to ignore legitimate harm.

[Future topic: Gremlin thoughts: when you feel bad and nobody did anything wrong]

Assessing the overlap and opting in

Using the lens of honesty, I think about every connection as a Venn diagram. One circle encompasses my life, and the other belongs to the person I am relating to. The question is: where do those circles overlap?

The overlap is determined by finding that honest shared space. How do we both want to relate? What do we both have the capacity for? Where do we want to live? If one person has an interest in moving into a shared community house, but the other needs their own apartment to recharge, that’s not in the overlap. And that’s ok!

Finding this overlap requires us to communicate our needs and boundaries. And it is important for us to share these with our partner, as they will not necessarily intuit them. These are not default obligations inherited from a relationship label. They are specific requests. Either the other person is able and willing to meet the needs and hold the boundaries, or they are not. If they are not, then there may be particular types of relationships that are not available between those two people.

We must also be careful not to index too far on the comfort of others while searching for this overlap. If we constantly accommodate someone else’s anxieties or bend our own boundaries, we are no longer finding an honest overlap. We are simply masking a fundamental incompatibility and prolonging a dynamic that does not work.

[Future topics: the different types of “want”, needs vs wants, boundaries vs rules, an exploration of my needs within committed romantic relationships]

It’s got to be optional

At the core of this opt-in ethos is that each connection has got to be optional. When my partners and I are not trapped by the invisible scripts and obligations that usually come attached to labels, we stay because we want to be there. That makes staying infinitely more meaningful.

For example, I might think towards a partner: I love you, and I deeply like you, but I do not need you to fill a preconceived space or play a specific role in my life. And what I want is to find the connection that feels good for both of us. I want connections fed by a real desire to be there, not by anyone showing up strictly out of obligation.

In our culture, we are often taught that needing someone (being “incomplete” without them) is the highest form of romance. However, this sentiment turns people into need-meeting machines. If my ability to function or feel stable relies on a specific partner, then my choice to be with them is not fully free. It is a requirement for my own stability. It also creates an ultimatum and an obligation on the other person to maintain the connection as it is, or else I will fall apart. By removing “need” from the foundation, the chosen overlap (the “want”) becomes much more powerful. When a “no” is an option, the “yeses” mean so much more.

This does not mean we operate without care or that we cannot rely on our partners during hard times. It means our connections are built on active choices rather than desperate requirements.

Wanting to share your daily life with someone is fundamentally different from owing them your default availability or them owing you theirs. It is not about being uncommitted. It is about commitment that is 100% authentic, present, and chosen by both parties.

[Future topics: loving fully without grasping at outcomes, scarcity vs abundance mindset, the fellow travelers approach to the future, approaches to bringing up concerns, adjusting relationships without ending them]

Final thoughts

At its heart, this approach to relating is not about avoiding the hard work of deep connection. In fact, I feel that Relationship Anarchy allows for more robust versions of commitment because it is built on intentional choice rather than a script. By refusing to limit connections with predefined labels, we build something far more stable: dynamics with the room to become exactly what works best for all involved, even when finding that overlap takes effort.

Art in this post made by Adora.

All of us have labels that we use to describe ourselves. Some labels I use to describe myself are: pansexual, queer, polyamorous, relationship anarchist. I describe myself as being pansexual because I am unconcerned with gender labels when evaluating to who I am attracted; I consider myself a relationship anarchist because I am unconcerned with placing a label on relationships, am open to relationships falling wherever they may land on a relationship spectrum, and don’t necessarily place romantic relationships as more important than strong friendships. So in a way even labeling myself as pansexual or a relationship anarchist feels pretty funny to me, as the labels themselves nod to my acknowledgement of how limiting labeling can be!

I didn't always understand these things about myself. In fact, I didn't even learn some of these words/phrases—like pansexual and relationship anarchy—until late into my 20s or early 30s. My understanding of how I view myself has been a slow and steady evolution. It has luckily not been a painful journey, I think largely due to my family’s unconditional love, respect, and “whatever makes you happy” attitude, as well my own personal acceptance of an evolving self.

I have a loving family who I knew wouldn’t be phased by any of these revelations. As expected, I was met warmly with responses that had the undertones of “If you are happy, I am happy for you! <3”. When I told my dad I started seeing a woman for the first time, he waited for me to finish telling him about the relationship and then responded with “I may be mistaken, but I think this is the first time you’ve told me about a woman, is that right?” When I responded with a “yup!”, he came back with, “I thought so! Tell me about her. What does she do?”. ...I acknowledge I am incredibly privileged in this respect, and that not everyone has this support, which is such a shame. I feel so lucky to have a family that doesn’t make me second guess who I am.

I also do my best to be relatively open to changing (or the view of myself changing). The people we think we are when we are 18 will not necessarily be the people we are (or will view ourselves as) when we are 30, 50, and so on. We’re constantly changing, understanding ourselves better, distancing ourselves from conforming to what other people want us to be, and updating our internal algorithms that help us interpret how we see ourselves and how we interact with the world around us. By being open to the fact that we are complex, always changing beings, and being open to our own emotional and personal evolution, we will be more accepting of ourselves as we come into our own, discover new views from which to see the world, and understand ourselves better.

There are many for which their coming out journey was—or will be—painful and agonizing, and may even cause estrangement from family. But if we accept our family and friends for the people they are, it doesn’t have to be this way! I see Pride month as being about love and acceptance. Practicing acceptance and respect for others, the fact that we all choose to live our lives a little differently, and celebrating those differences.

It is important that we also make sure to point this acceptance inward. Accept ourselves as we are, give ourselves room to change and grow—or for our understanding of ourselves to change and grow—do our best to understand these changes, and love ourselves along the way. 💜

I am a relationship anarchist. I want people to be with me and near me because they truly want to and not because they feel an obligation, and I want to show others the same respect. The transition from monogamy to relationship anarchy has been taking place for a while now - slowly at first, but I feel that I’ve really come into my own the past couple years. I think this transition has helped me to become the best version of myself.

I’m less dependent on other people / more comfortable being alone. At the same time, my relationships are more fulfilling than in my monogamous days. Ridding myself of the need to place expectations and obligations on other people has made me the happiest I’ve ever been. It leaves people to be exactly what they’re capable of being to me and in the amounts they’re able.

I have multiple people who could be called partners who I love in different ways and for different reasons. I have many friends, some of which are so close to me and who I snuggle at such a frequency that it’s hard to know where the line between friends and dating is and whether we’ve crossed it. But the beauty is—and the point is—it just doesn’t matter. When I’m not worried about where I am on some relationship spectrum with someone, I’m more capable of enjoying what it is that we have, regardless of what label might be thrust upon it.

I feel lucky to be surrounded by loving people. People who are kind and respectful. People who are able to have intense conversations without starting a fight. People who love (or really like!) me for me and only ask for the friendship, intimacy, and time that I am capable and willing to give them. People who love to snuggle!

I feel like a rich lady. :)

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