Boring Polyamory: Equality and Bedrooms

Among the correspondence I engaged in following my blog post about my (boring) polyamory were a few examples of people being concerned about the equality of our arrangement: how we keep things “fair”1. By way of example, let’s take a look at a specific example that’s come up. Here’s something that I was asked recently:

Why does [my partner] Ruth not have her own bedroom? Both of her partners [JTA and I] get one!

Where does my partner sleep?

Simplified calendar showing May 2026 with different-coloured dots on the days: 14 of one, 17 of the other.
It’s been joked that polyamory is just a fetish for calendar management. Our family calendars are moderately simple, I imagine, compared to those of people in larger polycules or with less routine.

Except when she’s travelling or otherwise elsewhere2, Ruth spends her nights in an approximately even split3 between JTA‘s bedroom and mine.

This leads some people to observe that:

  • JTA has a bedroom of his own,
  • I have a bedroom of my own, and
  • Ruth “shares” both of those,
  • and this is unfair because her partners both get something that she is denied.

Superficially, this sounds true. But it conflates “fairness” with “parity”.

Fairness versus parity

Parity is making sure that everybody gets the same thing. It’s a simple, but crude, measure of equality. That’s probably why it’s so-popular with children.

“My sister got a doughnut so I should get one too.”

“You had an iced finger instead. You said you prefer iced fingers to doughnuts. And your sister doesn’t like iced fingers. Both of you got what you wanted.”

“Yeah, but now I want a doughnut because she had one!”

– the kind of conversation that’s probably familiar to you if you have children

When you aim for parity, you’re trying to make sure that every person gets the same thing. But this isn’t ideal, because not every person wants or needs the same thing!

A child with a ring doughnut decorated to look like a monster imitates the face of that monster, towards another child who is pointedly not paying attention.
“I don’t even want this. I just don’t want to feel like you’re getting something I’m not!”

Fairness, is aiming to for everybody to be content.

Ideally, everybody would get everything they wanted, all the time! But where that’s impossible, we can aim to at-least ensure that everybody is content. That everything is “good enough” for everybody. Unlike a quest for parity, this respects the fact that people have different needs.

Me personally? I absolutely prefer to have a bedroom of “my own”! In fact, to go even further than that: if I were in Ruth’s position I probably would want a room of my own, if it were feasible. Also, in some kind of hypothetical universe in which neither of us had other partners… I’d still ideally want to sleep alone some of the time (maybe once every couple of weeks?), because I’m of an inclination to occasionally luxuriate in being able to totally starfish-out.

If it were me instead of Ruth at the fulcrum of our V-shaped polycule… I suspect I’d have different needs to Ruth. And that’s fine!4

I’m a big fan of people being able to have their own space if they want it.

When the three of us first started cohabiting I suggested that Ruth should have her own bedroom. In our first shared house, we ensured that she did! But in practice, it never got used. Over time we’ve dropped it in favour of having a spare bedroom: a versatile space that can be place for gaming, or television, or guests5.

It was valuable to start from a position of assuming that we would all get “our own” room: parity is a good starting point! But fairness – meeting everybody’s needs in the most-equitable manner – is a better finishing point.6

Communicating a way to fairness

The world sometimes sucks. Many of the social interactions humans engage in, on a day-to-day basis, are not rooted in fairness. Some human social interactions go to the opposite extreme: they even exploitative.

Have you ever been in a salary negotiation? You might have heard the idiom that the first person to say a number loses. Salary negotiations are an adversarial game. Both sides want to come out with the most money, and so neither side is incentivised to show their hand.

Everything I learned about salary negotiations… I learned from playing Theme Park. Just make sure you’ve got a deal before you run out of biscuits.

Relationships between people who care about each another don’t have to work by adversarial rules (and, in fact, probably shouldn’t!7). If you love and trust and want the best for one another, then – hopefully – you can be honest about what you want, and can be okay with being hearing whether or not it’s something that your partner(s) can provide. Or else work together to find compromise position that best facilitates everybody’s needs!

So: if Ruth decides that she wants to have a bedroom of her own again, we can try to make that happen. If I start an additional serious/committed relationship and decide that I’m not getting enough “alone time”, we can work out how to achieve that. If JTA’s work starts requiring a long and tiring commute and he needs fewer childcare responsibilities, we’d solve for that. We tackle these problems as a family who love and care for one another, with the goal of getting an outcome that’s fair to everybody!

Those outcomes don’t have to mean that we each get “the same”. Just that we each, as far as possible, get what we most want.

Footnotes

1 Sometimes somebody – almost always a man – will claim that our arrangement is unfair to both JTA and I who have to “share” one woman, as if her role were to be “owned” by one of us. Sometimes somebody – almost always a woman – will claim that our arrangement is unfair to Ruth because she has to split her time and attention between two men. I find it hilarious that these two arguments, diametrically opposed, are most-often made on gender lines.

2 The other month, for example, Ruth stayed over at her aunt and uncle’s house after celebrating her uncle’s birthday. JTA and I hung out and watched some RobWords until I, tired after an afternoon of beginners’ tango, took an early night!

3 In actuality, Ruth spends slightly more nights sleeping in JTA’s room than in mine. This, too, is one of those things where people will sometimes instinctively assume represents some kind of injustice to me and that I’m somehow being hard done by or deprived of some kind of relationship “rights”. This is, clearly, nonsense.

4 Also: I couldn’t think of a better way to graphically represent us swapping around into some differently-pivoted V-shaped relationship than by using the deck of playing cards that was on my desk anyway. I was feeling unimaginative, apparently. Can you tell?

5 Or – indeed – a spare room can be a space for for one of us to use, if we’re ill or leaving early in the morning or something and don’t want to disturb a bedpartner.

6 If you’re looking for another example of the difference between parity and fairness, consider taxation! A flat tax like a poll tax exhibits strong parity, because everybody pays the same, but it doesn’t exhibit much fairness because the value of that tax burden is less for somebody who is wealthy than for somebody who is poor. We call taxes that favour parity over fairness regressive taxes. I guess that we could call sharing of family resources in a way that favours parity over fairness regressive sharing?

7 If you’re in a relationship that’s routinely adversarial, then… and I don’t mean to be judgemental… that doesn’t sound like a very healthy relationship to me. Perhaps step back and re-assess whether it serves you both?

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Dan Q found GCBC09Z A Riverside Walk

This checkin to GCBC09Z A Riverside Walk reflects a geocaching.com log entry. See more of Dan's cache logs.

FTF after a delightful walk and a surprisingly challenging hunt!

When I woke this morning and saw a new semi-local cache, about when I ought to be getting myself and the geopup up anyway, I was intrigued. Bed called me back for a Sunday morning lie-in, but eventually I escaped its clutches and the geohound and I set out on our adventure.

Parking in Bladon was a challenge but we were fortune enough to find a residential road with a few spots up towards St. Martin’s Church. After that, and working out how to open the gate to the Community Footpath, we were on our way.

On a lead, a French Bulldog walks along a path towards a gate, which exists without a fence and even the path goes around both sides of it.
World’s most-pointless gate?

Passing the world’s most pointless gate and a heron finding his breakfast (both pictured), the doggo and I enjoyed our riverside stroll in relative peace and quiet, excepting the occasional jogger or dog walker that would come the other way. Eventually we found the bridge, stopped to enjoy the view a little, and then began the hunt.

On a reedy riverbank, a heron perches on a log.
The long, patient wait for breakfast to swim by.

Even with the hint and a strong idea of what I was looking for, this was a challenging search. I’ll bet my kids would’ve found the cache much faster than my ~15-20 minute search, but eventually I caught a glimpse of it, worked my way to it, and retrieved the log. Seeing it still blank, I claimed my FTF, and then had a brief panic when I discovered that I could no longer see it’s hiding place! A brief re-search and I’d found it again, but for a while there I was kicking myself for taking the time to return to the wall of the bridge to write my log!

Dan, a white man with blue hair tied in a ponytail and a goatee beard, crouches alongside and pets a champagne-coloured French Bulldog by a gate on a path through a managed forest. There are bits of plant on his clothes, especially his shoulders.
The dog was effectively zero help for this one.

Returned as found. TFTC, and for the lovely walk!

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Note #12968

Blood on a pillow

Woke up this morning bleeding from the neck. Surprise #vampire attack?

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Five Beds

I took a tour of the United Kingdom over the Christmas period, and was offered no fewer than five different beds to sleep in. Here’s a little about each of them:

Robin’s Bed

The first bed belonged to Robin, (Ruth‘s little brother) at their mother’s house. Robin wasn’t with us for the entire period that Ruth, JTA and I spent visiting Ruth’s mother, so I was able to annex his bed for much of the time.

Robin, his boss, and his boss's dog turned up in a rental van: "The only vehicle they could get hold of at short notice on Christmas Eve."
Robin, his boss, and his boss’s dog turned up in a rental van: “The only vehicle they could get hold of at short notice on Christmas Eve.”

While at first it appeared to be just a regular single bed, closer investigation revealed that the entire headboard was hinged, with radial bolts to hold it upright during normal use. Opening these bolts allowed the headboard to tilt forward and lie down on the bed. I have no idea what purpose this mechanism was supposed to serve, but it was very useful for getting my hand down the back to plug my mobile phone charger in to the otherwise-inaccessible sockets behind.

Owen’s Folding Mattress

While Robin and his boss were around, though, I was relegated to the living room floor, and given a folding mattress that Owen (Ruth’s older brother) used to keep in his van as a crash-space. Unfolded and then wrapped in a blanket and sheet for comfort, it didn’t look like much except a quick way to consume floor space.

But damned if it wasn’t the most comfortable thing I slept on all week. I’d jarred my back in some awkward way (probably lugging my enormous suitcase and a stack of presents around the country!), and a low, firm mattress on a hard floor turns out to have been exactly what it needed to speed my recovery.

If this kind of futon looks familiar, then like me you probably used to volunteer somewhere that owned one. This one’s a single, which is significantly less-awkward to fold and unfold.

My Mother’s Futon

My next overnight stop was in Preston, visiting my family. My mother keeps a futon in her study, a room barely bigger than the bed when fully deployed, which made getting into and out of the room more than a little challenging, but only marginally less-difficult than re-folding it back into a chair every time.

The futon itself was comfortable enough, but the room was extremely nippy. After a particular cold snap one day, I began taking not one but two hot water bottles to bed, and running an electric heater for an hour or so beforehand. I suppose the main problem was the tiny 4.5-tog “summer” duvet I was using, which I’m sure would have delightful if I were in, say, Egypt. Still: I got to rediscover quite how delightfully opulent it is to get into a bed that’s been freshly warmed by a pair of hot water bottles, which was nice (albeit also necessary).

My Dad’s Bed

When he left Preston to go and finish his final few days with Go North East, he offered me the use of his bed, which – given the temperatures on my mother’s futon – I should have taken.

But I didn’t, so this bed is the bed that wasn’t. Five just seemed like a better number than four for the article title. And no, “five beds” isn’t a metaphor for something (which I feel the need to say after some of the feedback I got to my apparently-too-mysterious earlier post, “Marmite“).

The beds might be cold, but this photo shows a few dozen great things about Christmas at my mother's. When drinking, stop before you get as far back as the cooking oil.
The beds might be cold, but this photo shows a few dozen great things about Christmas at my mother’s. When drinking, stop before you get as far back as the cooking oil.

Liz & Simon’s Massage Mattress

I saw the New Year in at Liz and Simon‘s house in Macclesfield, where I was given the choice between the couch and a “massage mattress”. Naturally, I opted for the latter – one doesn’t turn down a strange-looking, vibrating sleeping partner without good cause!

Unfortunately, I never got to try it out! After a copious quantity of alcohol and a handful of other substances, my one-day-only roommate Alex collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep within seconds. Not wanting to wake him, I left the mattress off and just, y’know, slept on it (how old-fashioned). It was still a great night’s rest after a fantastic party, though.

So there we are – a round-up review of my sleeping arrangements. Apparently I’m in a slightly off-the-wall blogging mood so far this year. Because sleeping on-the-wall… would be weird.

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