Welcome to Radical Relating, where we have conversations about liberatory love and rewilding relationships. I’m Mel, Somatic Experiencing® Practitioner™, relationship coach, and the author of Radical Relating: Queer and Polyamorous Wisdom for Love Beyond the Myth of Monogamy.
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Polyamory and Cults.
I’ve been chewing on this subject for years. Every time I go to write about it, I feel nervous, afraid that people will think I’m talking about them. I have written and rewritten and drafted and cut so much from this (all without any AI assistance).
There are so many polyamory groups that could be called a cult. Groups like Oneida in the late 1800s and Kerista in the mid-1900s who challenged the status quo of mono-normativity in the name of freedom, but ended up recreating some of the structures of power they pushed back against. To be clear: polyamory itself is not a cult; it’s a relational practice (and for some, an orientation). But it’s a relational practice that, for various reasons, is prone to high-control behaviours. And, in addition, there are cults and cult-like figures that prey on polyamorous individuals or use polyamorous structures to exploit others. Whilst these may be few, their impact can have big ripples. They not only add to stigma about non-monogamy in general, but they can also enact real harm on innocent people who were simply wanting to share love with more people.
In other words, the issue of high-control behaviours isn’t limited to cults: the same unhealthy dynamics that show up in cults can show up in our one-on-one intimate relationships. And in polycules, high-control and coercive behaviours can sometimes form a kind of mini-cult.
Control is antithetical to what actually makes non-monogamy, polyamory, and Relationship Anarchy viable, namely: collaboration. So this is what I want to unpack and explore: how high-control dynamics can show up in non-monogamy (and sometimes lead to cults or proto-cults), how we can practice collaboration in our ways of relating, and, ultimately, how we go about creating real community.
Understanding why polyamory is prone to high-control behaviour and vulnerable to would-be cult leaders is the basis of what I am going to explore in this series of three articles. I want to elucidate the root causes of control in non-monogamy, with the hope that doing so might help us all be better partners and better recognize the red flags in others and in ourselves. In this series, we will look at the dynamics of coercion and control, not just through the lens of the control-to-mini-cult-to-full-fledged-cult pipeline, but also to consider how and why the nervous system engages in these dynamics. In this, I’m informed by my own lived experience as a survivor of a high-control polycule, my training in somatics, and my decade of work as a relationship coach working with non-monogamous individuals and relationships.
This is a big topic to tackle, so please forgive me for not trying to tackle it all in one go.
In part one, I’ll discuss the reasons why control behaviours show up in relationships, what makes us vulnerable to control, and practices we can do to fortify ourselves against external controlling behaviours — whether they come from a group leader or an intimate partner. In part two, I’ll dive into the mechanisms of control from a somatic perspective, looking at how the nervous system responds to a perceived loss of control based on a desire and need for connection and relationality. In part three, I’ll consider what it means to step outside of control-based behaviours and power-over/under relationship dynamics, and examine principles for collaborative relationships that can support dyadic and group experiences. And of course, throughout, I’ll share some relevant personal anecdotes.
What Is Control?
Control is a strategy for dealing with the disruption or interruption of connection.
I believe we’re all wired to seek out connection, and that this is one of the most primal driving forces behind everything we do. When life is overwhelming, or there is chaos, it is normal and natural to want to find some kind of order in that chaos. In Somatic Experiencing, we might call this orienting, much like how you might need to take a moment to get your bearings when you step off a fast-moving fairground ride, or the way you take a deep breath in when stepping out of the airport in a new place; your sensory systems and your brain need to re-orient. But when there’s too much happening, and it happens too quickly, waiting for our system to orient to everything means we risk being caught in a kind of limbo where we can’t ascertain safety or lack of safety — and that is where control kicks in. By exerting some control over external circumstances, we can potentially reduce how much is happening, or how quickly it’s happening, and make it a little less overwhelming for our nervous systems. This can be a wise and necessary somatic response.
When control becomes not just a response, but is ingrained as a habit and celebrated as a behaviour, it takes on very different characteristics. Under colonialism, patriarchy, and capitalism, we’re told that connection is gained by hoarding power and/or resources — or by at least demonstrating that one holds power and resources. And these systems of supremacy offer us so many strategies for control over others.
What makes us vulnerable to control:
Aloneness And The Search for Belonging
The World Health Organization says that loneliness affects one in six people globally. At the same time, Statistics Canada reported that well over 50% of adults over the age of 50 feel lonely “always or often”. Many of us live disconnected from the land and ecosystems around us, and, thanks to isolating hetero-mono-normative relationship structures like the Nuclear Family, we often feel disconnected from one another.
There are many different ways we have responded to loneliness — and capitalism, as it always does, innovates to make money from the human experience. These days, we see it in the form of VR porn, the rise of AI companions, and real estate investors rebranding cooperative living models as luxury lifestyle living in micro-suites with communal areas. Even so, we still can find relational responses to loneliness: Mutual Aid. Chosen family. Kinship Networks. Relationship Anarchy. And yes, even Polyamory. These phenomena expand our sense of meaningful relationships beyond our family of origin and dyadic partnerships. They are expressions of connection to more than just one. They tend to deconstruct systems of power that reinforce isolating capitalist and colonial structures. And they offer an avenue towards finding community and that ever-elusive sense of belonging.
My own experience of alone-ness is intersected with the experience of being a third-culture kid: nowhere in the world have I travelled and felt truly at home or truly feel I belong. Generations of genocide and other traumas mean I have a fragmented relationship to my elders and genetic kin. I can track all the many ways I’ve gone about seeking a place to belong — like changing my accent when I moved to Canada so that I could ‘fit in’ — but there are perpetually one or more parts of myself that feel like they have to be put aside for me to feel welcomed. By the time I landed in the non-monogamous scene in the early 2010s, I was so hungry for a place to belong that I overlooked red flags and, for a time, found myself embroiled in connections that were high-control, unhealthy, and perhaps just a little bit culty.
The experience of ‘belonging’ is a deeply embodied sense of safety. When we feel like we ‘belong’ somewhere, our nervous system registers an absence of threat. We feel trust in those around us to understand and support us, and we feel like we understand and can easily support these others. Cycles of stress and vigilance slow down and might even cease. There is somatic ease, and from here a person may find that they feel more capacity in all aspects of their life.
Looking For Connection
For many of us, after our family and culture of origin, the first place we seek a sense of belonging is in partnerships. We are taught to grow a nuclear family of our own to fulfill our purpose in society. But if you’re reading this, you have probably found that the nuclear family doesn’t quite deliver (maybe for some, but certainly not for the vast majority), and maybe you’ve felt hungry for a wider sense of connection. Some crave a village, a network of attachment that might reflect pre-colonial relational practices. This can be a motivation for opening up into polyamory in the first place, and to be clear, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’m all for conscious opening up as a means to find one’s village of meaningful relationships; I just don’t think your village should be limited (or even centred around) your romantic partners. But it's this dearth of deep connection alongside hunger for greater purpose and meaning that can leave us vulnerable to the influence of high-control relationships and groups.
In non-monogamy, there can be a sense of connection when you find someone else who is non-monogamous. And today, you can find plenty of non-monogamous people sharing their experiences. Charismatic partners, community leaders, and social media influencers may intentionally or unintentionally build a following by stating simple truths, validating the experiences of people who have felt ostracized and lost, and offering a space where people can experience belonging and welcome. Seasoned non-monogamists will inevitably have smart, intelligent insights. Maybe even diagrams and metaphors and terms that help you understand what you’re doing, and maybe even correct you if you’re misusing a term.
To be clear: most of the time, this is actually pretty benign; the majority of people with some years of experience in polyamory or in organizing community events and spaces have a good grasp of consent, autonomy, and how to support people’s agency when a following shows up. But there’s power in having a following, and occasionally there are personalities who misuse their power, deny the agency and experiences of their partners, community members, fans, and followers — and cause tremendous harm.
The promise of belonging to a group of people who have purpose and direction is enticing, especially if you’ve been starving for connection. And in particular, anyone who has lived and/or experienced intergenerational trauma of loss of connection to culture/land, etc., may be particularly vulnerable to the temptation to lean deeper into the group relationship than is safe. People who are struggling with internalized shame about their desires for non-monogamy, or who have been ostracised or bullied by family members or friends about their relationships, may be hungry for a family-of-choice, and new friendships that accept and support them.
Most of the time, people can absolutely find kind, respectful spaces and build healthy experiences of belonging through the connections they make in polyamory. But when there are cult-like personalities involved, the warm welcome of inclusion in a relationship (be it a polycule, a community space, or an online forum) often becomes dependent on adhering to someone’s idea of One True Way To Do Polyamory.
Letting Go Of Agency:
Loss of Relationship to Self
I’m a survivor of a high-control polycule.
A lot of the details are blocked in my memory. Still, I experienced this particular polycule as a group of people who were quick to enforce a standard of perfect relational behaviours and punish one another when they failed to meet those standards. More than a couple of the folks in this polycule held some social status as ‘experts’ on polyamory. I didn’t observe much compassion, but I did witness a lot of attempts to control. Immediately looped in to communications with several metamors and meta-metamors, I was informed that my other partners (who no one in this polycule had met) were unethical because their partnership agreements prioritized their kids. I was chastised for not allocating equal time in my schedule to all my partners, and pressured into giving up valuable self-care time to accommodate more dates. I tried to defend the right to be a unicorn if I wanted to, and was told I was brainwashed by patriarchy to think such a thing. After a few months, I left the relationship that connected me to that polycule because I was exhausted by constantly defending myself and my relationship decisions, and I had become absolutely terrified of contradicting the status quo and expressing my truth with anyone in the polycule.
I was vulnerable to that kind of control and social coercion: I had just come out as bisexual and polyamorous, and the relationship with my homophobic mother had ruptured as a result. I was also newly divorced and navigating the reinvention of my whole life. I felt separated from many of the things that had, for better or worse, been anchors in my life. My new life centred around my polyamorousness, and I desperately wanted to establish stability in it. For me, the stakes felt high. I said yes and went along with what I was told was The Right Way To Do Polyamory because I thought it would win me favour, secure me in supportive relationships, and help me to belong.
This was transactional belonging: I was allowed as long as I played by the rules. When I challenged the status quo, I was bullied, shut down, and later (even after I had left that polycule) ‘cancelled’ for having questioned things at all. The whole experience left me overwhelmed, scarred, and scared. As I found different, smarter, more trauma-informed and compassionate people in the polyamorous world, I began to recover and find my own path again. I vowed that I would not be swayed again, and worked on addressing the things that had left me vulnerable.
Paying Attention to Power and Control
I have found that very often the people who hold power in a network of relationships are unaware of the power they hold. Like so many other forms of privilege, we can be ignorant of the ways that others may perceive and interact with us. And while some people really do seek out positions of power to have power over others, I’d like to think that the vast majority of those who do are coming from a place of wanting to support and steward others toward good experiences.
In the mini-cults that can show up in polycules, it can be that one or two strong personalities set the tone for others to follow. Where I’ve seen polycule-cults form that have harmed, that harm has been rooted in an insistence of there being a singular right way to do polyamory — and it can feel hard to challenge the social mores once you have developed loving feelings for anyone in a polycule.
In larger cults, the kind of Cults with a capital C that you see documentaries or exposés on, there’s also often one or two strong personalities that set a doctrine for everyone to follow. The worst of these are often connected to delusions like aliens coming to rescue the true believers. Such cults have often (although not always) used sexuality as a means to recruit and control members. Cult leaders may arrange marriages between followers, or tell followers their approval is required before they sleep with anyone. Some cult leaders have preached chastity for followers while maintaining a collection of lovers of their own.
Whether in a small web of interpersonal relationships or a larger community, what I have found is important to pay attention to is how those who hold power (of any kind) wield that power. Do they seek to impose their way on others, or are they open to conversation and different ideas? Do they use their position to make a stand against individuals who are behaving in toxic, predatory ways, or are they the predatory ones who cancel individuals who challenge their authority? When it comes to working with others, do they dictate what will happen and when, or do they invite collaboration and empower and uplift others’ voices? Is maintaining a relationship with them dependent on transactional ways of engaging that ask you to put yourself aside?
One of my lifelong teachers gave me excellent advice about people in leadership, and it’s advice I remember regularly: she told me to question anyone who claimed expertise. To challenge them. To test them. To look at who they have studied with and question the integrity of what skill and knowledge they hold. As I’ve done this again and again, I’ve found that, whether a teacher, leader, influencer, or otherwise, those who are connected to their empathy, who embody kindness, and (especially in the non-monogamy world) have the capacity to love many, share something very significant in common: they are open and receptive to discussion. They can be humble when challenged.
(Re)Locating Self
When it comes to being resilient against external control from partners and polycules, I think it is not just about what we do, but also how we do it. When we have surrendered agency (whether by choice or out of a survival response), we have to then reclaim it.
Being dedicated to your self-partnership is an important part of the equation: the clearer you can be on who you are, what you want, what does and doesn’t work for you, and what capacity you have, the easier it is to express your limits and push back against anything that feels controlling from a partner or anyone else, for that matter. When I was recovering from my experiences of being in a high-control polycule, reconnecting to my own voice, affirming my desires (and feeling those desires affirmed by others) was paramount to being able to show up in relationships again as my Self.
Resilient relationships ask us also to address the root causes of control behaviours — and that means connecting with ourselves and others in more loving ways: tolerance, compassion, boundaries, somatic self-awareness; going beyond the binary thinking of belonging vs not belonging and exploring instead the spectrum of ease that we experience in our body-mind-heart-spirit as we engage in different connections and relationships. And this is something else that has helped me in my own journey: examining where the overwhelm of relationship situations has caused me to try to shut others down, and exploring where that response truly matches the circumstances I’ve been through — and where it hasn’t.
Some Practices To Support Your Self Relationship In The Face of Controlling Behaviours From Others
These practices may help you if you’re healing from being in a high-demand relationship (of any kind, including work, family, etc). They focus on supporting agency, rest, and personal space, whilst also nourishing the nervous system with positive experiences related to connection. They might also help you notice if you begin to lean into control-based behaviours.
Learn to understand the parts of yourself that are feeling scared, and practice compassion for them.
Develop a diverse network of support: befriend people in non-monogamy who you don’t date. Having more friends and peer supports can help you find ways to locate yourself outside of partnerships.
Hone your discernment. Discernment looks at nuances. It examines the red flags. It considers the bigger picture of who someone is, rather than the face that is presented. If you’re enjoying someone’s social media content, find out who they are, where they studied or who they have learned from. What lineages of teachings or schools of thought do they align with? You might find it handy to journal your reflections somewhere privately, and go back to read your reflections regularly: this can help you attune to when your intuition has picked up on something that was off before you’ve been able to point at it rationally.
When you notice your own impulses or desires to control the actions of others, get curious about what you actually need in that moment.
Learn to recognize power, and when you have it. When we don’t realize how much power we hold, we are more likely to abuse it when we feel threatened or challenged. I once heard that in a relationship, the person who holds most power is the one who will be least impacted by it ending. I don’t know if that’s universally true, but I think it’s a useful question to consider.
Take time alone to connect with all your parts: heart, body, spirit, and mind. To connect with your heart, you can spend some time exploring your emotions: you might hold a hand over your heart and imagine your breath as it moves in and out of your chest and notice what arises. Or you could re-watch a favourite movie that makes you emotional, or think or write about someone who meant a lot to you who has passed away. To connect with your body, you might move your body (walk, dance) or you might use weighted blankets or a bath to feel gentle pressure on your body as if it is being held. To connect with your mind, you might journal (you can use journal prompts from my book Radical Relating, or you might have other tools to help prompt your journaling). To connect with your spirit, you might explore some art, play a favourite piece of music, or engage in some other form of creative expression. If it is a practice that resonates with you, you might also meditate, pray, or engage in acts of worship or other rituals.
The exploration of Power and Control in Polyamorous Cults and Polycules continues. In Part Two, we’ll be looking at the dynamics of control from a somatic perspective, and in Part Three we’ll dig into the practicalities of moving from relational dynamics based on power and into relational dynamics centred on collaboration.
Thanks for reading. If you’re curious to know more about my work, head to radicalrelating.ca, or visit monogamydetox.com for information on my comprehensive 8 month course for unlearning mononormativity through trauma-informed practices and moving into an embodied, liberatory framework for relating.
