Monogamish sounds like a compromise. A foot in both worlds. A way to enjoy the thrill of openness without fully abandoning the container of monogamy.
In theory, it promises the best of both, the stability of a primary partner and the freedom to explore. But in practice, it often reveals something messier, the desire for access without accountability. Freedom for one partner, rules for the other. Openness in body, but not in heart.
Let’s talk about the murky middle of monogamish.
The Illusion of Shared Understanding
So many couples call themselves “monogamish” when they’ve only agreed to tolerate outside sex, not build meaningful connections.
One of the most common setups? A straight man and his wife agree he can have casual sex with others. No feelings. No titles. No telling her anything unless something goes wrong.
But they will talk about it when things aren’t going well. He’ll confide in her about how a new partner is being “too needy” or “catching feelings.” He’ll let her comfort him when he feels misunderstood by someone she was never supposed to know existed.
He doesn’t name her, but still uses her story as an emotional bridge to the marriage. Meanwhile, his wife may never fully understand the impact her silence, curiosity, or proximity has on the people her husband engages with, especially in close-knit kink or queer communities where everyone knows everyone.
This isn’t about betrayal, it’s about contradiction.
If your primary partner is both off-limits and ever-present, if their comfort dictates how others show up, then no one else is really in a relationship with you. They’re in a relationship with your marriage.
Intimacy Isn’t the Problem. The Double Standards Are.
Many monogamish arrangements rely on invisible walls. Physical contact? Fine. Emotional contact? Threatening.
This false hierarchy assumes that sex is harmless if it’s shallow, but connection is dangerous if it runs deep.
So the rules are written:
• Don’t get attached
• Don’t share too much
• Don’t act like you actually care
But here’s the truth. You can’t structure out humanity.
Even in the most casual of entanglements, people bond, care, notice, and reflect. And the moment you make an emotional connection a punishable offense, you don’t just restrict behavior, you invalidate reality.
The Emotional Gatekeeping Trap
This is where monogamish often becomes manipulative.
It’s not just that you can’t fall in love. It’s that you’re not allowed to feel much of anything at all. Your presence is welcomed, until your impact becomes inconvenient.
You’re not supposed to ask for clarity.
You’re not supposed to want consistency.
You’re not supposed to change the vibe.
So instead of connection, you learn compliance. You shrink to fit the limitations of someone else’s emotional availability. You become a placeholder for a fantasy they don’t want questioned.
That’s not ethical non-monogamy, that’s performance.
So What Is the Middle Path?
Monogamish doesn’t have to be toxic. It can be honest, tender, and grounded in truth.
However, for that to happen, it must stop being a vague label and become a living agreement.
That means:
• Naming the emotional limits and why they exist
• Revisiting agreements as feelings change, because they will
• Understanding that people outside your marriage are not accessories. They are full humans
• Accepting that care and connection are not threats. They’re natural consequences of intimacy
The middle can work if everyone involved is truly on level ground.
Reflection Prompt
Have you ever been someone’s “middle,” not quite chosen, not fully included?
Have you ever created a structure where someone else was limited to preserve your comfort?
What would it take to show up with both clarity and compassion, no matter the container?
Capt. Chaos