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Thoughts on the Fifth Anniversary of More Than Two

September 2, 2019

The book More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Polyamory was published five years ago today. I co-wrote it with my now ex-partner, Franklin Veaux. Completely unexpectedly (for us), it became a massive success, and is now one of the most-recommended books on polyamory out there.

Unfortunately, I don’t feel very enthusiastic about celebrating its birthday.

Image of a black leather-bound book with a red heart on the front. The heart has a diagonal line of black stitching across it. Image courtesy of kreativlink on DeviantArt.

Image courtesy kreativelink on DeviantArt, © 2010

It’s been a long time since I really looked at it, except for the excerpts I would read at events, which were mostly the same passages over and over. I have a strange relationship to my own creative outputs: generally, while I love them while I am making them, once they’re out in the world, I develop an aversion to them. And the more effort went into creation, the stronger the aversion is. Truth is, I loathe More Than Two. I even hate the sight of the cover—I keep it turned spine-in on my bookshelf. There was a time, during the book tour, when it felt physically painful to have to pick up the book yet again and read from it. (I got over it, sort of—I think I finally just became numb.)

 But of course, I wanted to believe in the book. I wanted to believe it was helping people, making lives better. So many people told me it was—I couldn’t look at the content again myself, but I believed them. I certainly never wanted to believe it might hurt people. I never imagined it might, for some, become a tool of abuse. 

If you’re reading this, then you probably know by now that I have been speaking out, along with many of Franklin’s other past partners, about the harm we experienced in relationship with him. For me and at least two other women I know of—not coincidentally, the three who previously lived with him—that harm resulted in deep trauma that has left lasting scars. And so of course, people are asking questions about More Than Two.

And I don’t know what to tell them.

I opened More Than Two a few days ago for the first time in a long time and actually started to read. And my stomach clenched. My heart started pounding in my chest, like it still does most nights when I startle awake at 3 a.m., my lizard brain still fearful that he’s in the bed with me. It kept doing it as I sat down to write the first draft of this post. I see it—I see the harm. As Kali Tal wrote in her piece “My Life Belongs to Me,”  which analyzes More Than Two and The Game Changer in light of my and Amber’s own correspondence about our experiences with Franklin: “the abuse that Franklin’s ex-partners describe surfaces like invisible writing in these texts when the flame of testimony is held beneath their pages.” It hurts to read. The abuse that I experienced is literally, as Tal wrote, “coded into the text, like DNA.” 

And no, I’m not going to talk about how. I can’t yet put it into words. But you can read about other women’s experiences—including how some of the ideas that made their way into More Than Two were weaponized against them—at polyamory-metoo.com.

The writings of Matthew Remski, author of the book Practice and All Is Coming: Abuse, Cult Dynamics and Healing in Yoga and Beyond, have helped me a great deal in my exit and recovery. He wrote something once that has stuck with me. One of the things that can be so devastating to survivors of cult-like groups is not the harm they experienced, but the harm they committed while in the group. Victims will themselves often enact abusive behaviours reactively, and people who would not otherwise be abusive will often abuse both group members and outsiders when under the influence of a high-control group. The shame from this can make healing much harder. Reflecting on the experience of being in a cult, Remski said, “How shameful is that? To realize that simply by loving something, you harmed people.”

More Than Two came out of love. It was written by two people who, at the time, loved each other deeply, in the ways that each of them knew how, and wanted to help other people. (At least I did. And I actually do believe that Franklin did, too.) And yet what came out of that love…has caused harm. 

And yet…and yet…it’s also helped people. I know it has; I believe it has—people have told me so. I hope it’s helped more people than it’s harmed. I don’t think it’s a bad book. But it was bad for me. 

So I really, really don’t know what to tell you.

Maybe I’m rationalizing, maybe I’ll feel differently in a few more years, but right now where I’m landing is this: More Than Two contains tools, and every tool can become a weapon in the right (wrong?) hands. And more than that, our toolkit was incomplete, and very heavily skewed toward a certain dynamic—our dynamic. Which became abusive. Ferrett Steinmetz warned of this, specifically, years ago: “when you start speaking to large audience, it becomes nigh-impossible to give advice to people that someone will not internalize in drastically harmful ways.”

I’m glad that people are thinking critically about More Than Two. I’m glad people are pointing out its flaws. This consensual nonmonogamy thing we’re all working on is not static, and no one has all the answers figured out for everyone. More Than Two represents, at best, a snapshot of what was important and how certain communities were thinking at a certain point in time, just like The Ethical Slut was two decades prior. Ideas and practices will continue to evolve, and that’s a good thing. Some or all of what’s in More Than Two may eventually be thrown out—and I think that’s okay, too. 

So I guess all I can say is: It’s flawed. Maybe it’ll help you. I hope it will. But be careful. Read other things. Take what works for you from each. Trust your gut. If something doesn’t feel right to you, listen to that feeling. 

Your relationships should feel good. They should take care of you. They should be the safe, stable places where you gain the strength to deal with whatever battles you need to fight out in the world. They shouldn’t be the battles you’re fighting. If that’s what’s happening, and the tools you’re using aren’t helping, find other tools. You deserve to be happy.

 

Edit 9/6/2019: The survivor pod has also just published its own post on the book, including a request. Please read it.


I do have some thoughts on what I would do differently now—of course I do. But I’m going to save those for later, when I’ve had more time to process. For now, I just want to address one key thing, which is the confusion I’ve seen over who owns the various More Than Two properties, and who profits from them. 

Ownership and revenue

More Than Two, the book, is a joint work by me and Franklin. We were equal co-authors and, while I haven’t done a forensic analysis of the text, I believe we both made more-or-less equal contributions to the book. Legally, we share copyright 50/50, and neither of us can modify the text without the other’s permission (which gives you an idea of the likelihood of a new edition).

Franklin and I also share royalties from the book equally. The rest of the book’s proceeds go to Thorntree Press, the company we co-founded. I own 75% of Thorntree, and Franklin owns 25%, but the company has never made enough of a profit to pay a dividend. We made a conscious choice with Thorntree to support emerging authors and new ideas, and so most of Thorntree’s revenues have (so far) gone back into publishing new books, most of which don’t break even. I run Thorntree Press with the help of a part-time associate publisher and several other subcontractors; Franklin is not currently involved in operations. 

MoreThanTwo dot com, the website, is solely Franklin’s work (except, as far as I know, for the Relationship Bill of Rights and the Secondary’s Bill of Rights, and the PolyCat archives). I didn’t contribute to it, can’t change it and don’t benefit from it. All my blog content from there has been ported here.

So while I completely understand if folks don’t want to buy the book for any number of reasons, an organized boycott purely for financial reasons (no matter which of us you’re boycotting) would be…complicated, because it would create collateral damage. But, you do you.

I will suggest, though, that if you do want to buy the book (or any of our books), rather than using the referral links on Franklin’s website (the proceeds from which go entirely to him), you use the ones on Thorntree Press’s page (which support the company). There’s also a standalone ebook on jealousy that (I hope) fixed some of the problems in the jealousy chapter in More Than Two.

And I think at this point it’s pretty safe to say that you can stay away from The Game Changer.

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