In 2022, Google searches for polyamory peaked. In January 2024, New York Magazine put cats on the cover and called it a “practical guide for the curious couple.” Dating apps added polyamory options—and the raunchiest among them, Feeld, saw a 500% increase in users identifying as “ethically non-monogamous.” Everyone, it seemed, was talking about being poly.

Meanwhile, the actual number of people practicing it stayed flat. About 4 to 5 percent of Americans are currently in consensually non-monogamous relationships. Just about five years ago, it was 3 to 4 percent. That’s barely a blip.

We weren’t witnessing a cultural shift. We were witnessing people argue about whether there was a cultural shift. If you thought we were living in the poly revolution, we were actually just enduring the poly discourse.

The truth—so far as I could tell, at least—is that polyamory is a lot less sensational than we might imagine. The only real surprise (aside from the fact that it’s not just an endless loop of sex parties) is that, for the people who engage in it, it works. A 2025 meta-analysis published in The Journal of Sex Research found that poly relationships report the same satisfaction levels as monogamous ones: Same happiness, same commitment—and sometimes, even less jealousy.

So if it works for some people and the research backs it up, why isn’t everyone doing it? I asked three women who I knew were a part of the practice, if you will. What it actually looks like. Why they do it or don’t. What happens when it works and what happens when it falls apart. And what they think about the gap between the conversation and the reality of the situation. 

Sarah, 34, graphic designer:

“We opened our marriage after ten years. I was terrified but also curious. We made rules: check in every night, no sleepovers, veto power. For six months it worked. Then he fell in love with someone and the rules stopped mattering. He wanted more nights away, less check-ins. I watched him break every boundary because his feelings were bigger than his promises. I was furious that he thought his new love meant he didn’t have to keep his word anymore.”

“Those satisfaction numbers don’t surprise me. When it worked, it was great. But those studies probably don’t capture what happens when someone stops following the rules. The stats work if everyone actually does what they say they’ll do. My marriage didn’t fail because of polyamory. It failed because my husband couldn’t hold his own word when it mattered.”

Sarah’s marriage ended because her husband treated agreements like rough drafts. He followed the rules until following them became inconvenient. What she learned had nothing to do with polyamory. It was about who someone becomes when what they want conflicts with what they promised.

Maya, 29, software engineer:

“I have been poly since college. Never tried monogamy, don’t plan to. Right now I have a primary partner and two others. It works because we treat it like a project. Shared calendar, weekly check-ins, discuss everything. Who’s sleeping where, who needs what. Non-negotiable rule: I never cancel plans with my primary for anyone else. Everyone knows that going in. Last year all four of us ended up at the same wedding. I spent the whole night managing comfort levels. Exhausting but worth it. By the end they were talking without me, which was the point.”

Maya found three people willing to run their love lives with the same rigor she brings to code. Weekly meetings. Shared schedules. Constant transparency. The wedding isn’t a cute story. It’s evidence of what the system requires.

Jessica, 42, therapist:

“My partner wanted to try polyamory three years in. He’d been reading about it, thought it might help. I didn’t want to be closed-minded so I said yes. We did everything right. Read the books, went to workshops. I was miserable. Not jealous. Just exhausted. Every feeling required a conversation. Every date required processing. We talked about our relationship more than we lived in it. After a year I told him I couldn’t do it anymore. He said he felt the same but didn’t want to quit first. We went back to monogamy. Now we barely discuss our relationship at all. It’s perfect.”

“However, I do believe the satisfaction studies. People who are poly long-term probably love all that processing. I’m a therapist and I still couldn’t handle it. The research shows similar satisfaction because the people who hate it leave. I’m not in those studies anymore. I’m back in monogamy where I belong. The stats are probably right. They’re just not measuring the people who tried it and ran.”

Jessica discovered the cost was too high. Not the emotional cost of sharing. The cost of constant maintenance. She wanted to come home and exist without debriefing. She tried it honestly and learned what she actually values. Some people would call that quitting. She figured out what rest means to her.

There may be a fantasy that polyamory could simply mean an endless series of hall passes, or fulfilling wild sexual fantasies with your partner, or being able to indulge in a side romance that feels far more indulgent than the humdrum of a long-term relationship. But ultimately, it actually requires more than the average relationship; it’s responsibility to more than just the person you’ve chosen. More choices mean more complications, and a lot more opportunities for miscommunication. Put simply: Polyamory requires skills most people don’t have. The ability to hold multiple truths at once. The stamina for constant coordination. The faith that everyone involved will follow through when it’s hard.

And after hearing Maya talk about shared calendars and weekly emotional debriefs, Sarah talk about watching her husband break every promise, Jessica talk about being exhausted by constant processing? Now I understand why only 4 percent stick with it.