The Price of Admission

Dan Savage was my first introduction to frank talk on relationships and sex. I remember fondly, and with some titillation, listening to the Savage Lovecast on my iPod while I did data entry at a temp job a few years ago. No one ever knew that as I updated databases, I was getting tips on having better sexual experiences and learning concepts like "DTMFA" (dump the motherfucker already).

Now I know that a lot of people are polarized about Savage, which I understand; I haven't been happy with things he's said either. But what I do like is when he takes a simplified look at some of the concepts in relationships that I think get muddled by centuries of idealizing what love and sex are "supposed" to be.

One of those concepts is the "Price of Admission": essentially, what one is willing to put up with, or "pay," in order to maintain a relationship (or what he calls "ride the ride"). In this video, Savage talks about it in relation to the little things: your partner chewing with their mouth open or leaving sandwich-making supplies all over the counter. (One of Joel's prices of admission are his sometimes disturbingly loud sneezes, for instance.) He admonishes an audience member who prompted the discussion for having too many deal-breakers - essentially, for saying he wasn't willing to pay any price of admission. Savage says, "There is no settling down without some settling for."

Beyond the problems I have with the concept of "settling" (which I'd really rather think of as compromise), I believe this is largely true, especially when it comes to loud sneezes and open-mouth chewing. If we are unwilling to pay some sort of price of admission, or make some compromises in our relationships, then we should get used to not riding much of anything at all (and yes, for those of you keeping score at home, that was a double-entendre).

But sometimes, the cost of maintaining a relationship - of riding that ride - is too high. Sometimes that threshold is easy to measure, like if your partner wants to move to a different country and you're already rooted. But sometimes it's not. Sometimes the threshold is simply at a point in time when a relationship, for whatever reason, is making you more unhappy than happy.

And where that threshold is could be muddled. You could lose sleep over it one night, cry over it half the next day, but after a little space and reflection realize you can afford more. Because you've thought about that ride, and it's been one of the best you've ever been on, and you're not ready to get off of it yet. But you're still aware that at some point, you might come up short, and that scares you. And you realize that this risk - the risk of too high a price of admission - is a price of admission in itself.

I feel like some polyamorous relationships have more prices of admission than monogamous ones. You have open-mouth chewers, loud sneezers, and messy sandwich-makers. But you also have jealousy, insecurity, impatience. You have relationship hierarchies and communication challenges and metamours. You have societal discrimination and scheduling issues. A polyamorous relationship can be a really big roller-coaster, which means it has the potential to be expensive and scary. But it also means it has the potential to be the best ride of your life. The question will always be, "Can you afford it?"

I wish I had a blunt Dan Savage-like figure in my life who could answer that for me, but I don't. And I don't know if I'd listen even if I did. Relationships aren't actually rides, after all; they're made up of people with feelings. And unlike a ride, the cost of maintaining them isn't set in stone - it's negotiable. Yes, the ultimate price of admission costs what it costs, but there's no reason you shouldn't try to make that cost affordable for both of you. If you - or your partner - ultimately decides the price of admission is too high, at least, then, you will have done all you could. That is all any of us can really do.