Motherhood and compersion: How becoming a parent has changed my relationship to jealousy and empathic joy in non-monogamy
By Sarah Stroh
Right now as I’m sitting in my co-working space typing this, my partner and the father of my child, is on a camping trip with another woman.
I’m rooting for Flo. I want him to have a blast. I want them to have fun, laugh, and be intimate. Genuinely.
But it hasn’t always been this way.
I haven’t always felt compersive: felt empathetic joy, when it comes to my partner seeing other women.
When compersion felt impossible
Some five years ago when he started seeing someone regularly (every week) who he really liked for the first time, I had a difficult time.
This was before we had a kid and everything back then was a bit more uncertain.
In particular, I knew I wanted to be a mom, and as I was settling into my mid-thirties, I wanted to make sure it happened soon and before my time was “up”. Ideally, I would have a child with him, but if I needed to, without him.
Although Flo wanted to be a parent one day too, he wasn’t sure yet if he wanted that as soon as I did. So I was getting more and more comfortable with the idea of doing it alone. But that concept was terrifying. Not just for me to go through this huge life transition on my own, but in terms of what it might mean for our relationship.
In other words, we were on shaky ground.
And his seeing someone else — despite how much he showed me he loved me and wanted to be in a relationship with me otherwise — meant yet more uncertainty about us.
What if they fell in love?
This other woman wanted to be a mother one day too and also was without father prospects. What if his not wanting to have kids with me now was not so much about the now part but more about the with me part and he would decide to have kids with her instead?
This was my deepest mortal fear: That I would be replaced because intrinsically I just wasn’t “good enough.”
Even though somewhere inside, I wanted him to have a nice relationship with this person (who I’d also met and liked by the way), it was really hard to feel compersion while being in that headspace.
How could I be happy about him enjoying being with her, about them getting closer and closer, when I didn’t feel like my place in his life was really stable?
I like to say that experiencing compersion and jealousy at the same time is like getting a massage while getting punched in the face repeatedly.
In some sense, the massage may “feel good,” but in the end, you’re really only paying attention to one of those sensations. You can’t really experience that you’re happy for your partner (the massage) when something more pressing (getting punched in the face) is happening at the same time.
This is where I was in those days when he was seeing this other person and I was figuring out my parenthood journey alongside him.
But then this all changed.
At some point, only a few months into their relationship, Flo decided he was ready to try to have kids with me. And I agreed.
Within months we were pregnant, and eventually gave birth to a healthy baby.
And we lived happily ever after. The end.
Just kidding.
Having a baby didn’t magically make it all easier
It turns out my worst fear: being replaced because I’m inherently inadequate as a potential mother hadn’t come true.
That was a huge relief. We became family to each other and that has been beautiful.
But of course the process of having children and the actual having them part comes with its own set of difficulties, which can get in the way of compersion too.
For example, towards the middle/end of my pregnancy, I didn’t feel sexy, and had my partner started dating someone new at that point in my pregnancy, it would have felt unfair.
He could still be his old self while I was a big roley ball who wobbled when she walked. It didn’t feel right that he should go out and date while I sat home finding it difficult to even move.
He and that last woman he was dating had broken up by then, but he also had the opportunity to connect with an old flame a month or so after I’d given birth. I bristled at the idea, and he decided to take a beat and not see her right away.
If he’d felt it was really important to go on a date, I probably could have handled it. Or if he’d already been dating someone who I’d trusted, this would also be another story.
But “handling it” and feeling joy about it (compersion) are two different things.
I had just gone through a lot: giving birth, dealing with a nipple that kept bleeding and searing with pain every time my child latched, recovering from surgery. I couldn’t leave the house for more than an hour or two in those early days because I had to feed our child. Dating felt pretty much impossible for me.
It all felt very imbalanced.
And I didn’t want to add anything extra to my plate.
I didn’t want him to see someone new who could stir the pot and potentially make me feel insecure or envious.
I didn’t feel there was room to feel that empathetic joy.
But after that first year of parenthood, after I stopped breastfeeding and got more of my freedom back, things started to shift.
Finding my way back to myself
I got my period again. My libido returned with a gusto I didn’t know I was capable of. Was I always this horny half the month?
I was finally looking in the mirror and seeing myself as hot again.
And I wanted to feel wanted again by someone new.
I was a mom now and maybe I would have another kid in the next year or two. Now was my time to shine. I wasn’t going to waste it.
A year after giving birth I met a Spanish guy at a kinky club in Berlin. We had a sexy tryst. Then I met someone else in a hot tub at a small co-organized festival outside of Berlin. I shamelessly hit on him, and we had an explosive little relationship over the next few months (for better or worse).
Then I dated someone else for a couple of months after that.
Cut to today. I’ve been dating someone new for a little over two months and it’s going well.
The point is, outside of my nesting partnership, I’ve been having a lot of fun. I’ve been enjoying being a MILF.
And so today I’m genuinely really happy for that same partner -- who years ago, I was torn up about dating someone else -- being with another woman on a camping trip (even as I take care of our child alone for the last two or so days.)
What made room for compersion
So what changed?
It’s not that parenthood magically made non-monogamy easier. Mainly, the conditions around me changed. I’ve felt safer, more free, and have had more room in my life for compersion. Here’s why.
Our relationship feels more secure. This is the number one reason I’m able to feel compersion now and wasn’t able to before. I don’t worry about where our relationship will go because we already live together. We already have a kid. Of course, people with children break up all the time. But it feels a hell of a lot more stable now than it did before. I’m not anymore vying for the one spot to be the mother of his child. I also genuinely feel he still loves and wants me. That’s really important too.
This particular relationship doesn’t feel threatening. Another reason there is room for compersion in this instance is that I don’t feel like this particular person is much of a threat. First off, she has her own long-term partner. Second, she seems quite nice and respectful. Three, she’s not from around here. Unlike with the woman I talked about above, for practical reasons alone, there’s no sense that they will get closer and closer until I’m one day replaced.
I have my own thing going on. As I mentioned, I’ve been having a lot of my own fun over the last year and a half. So I don’t feel any sense of damn, this isn’t fair. I want that too but I’m not able to get it and now I have to take care of our child while he gets it on with other women WTF! On the contrary, him going out with another person just makes things feel more balanced.
And underneath all of that, even if I haven’t always been able to feel compersion, I’ve always wanted Flo to be happy.
The hardest thing in our lives is raising our child. By far.
I want him to be happy. Lord knows, I want him to be happy in any way he can. Because the happier he is, the more light and free he feels in an environment where so much of our freedom is limited by the needs of our little child, the better off both of us are. His moods latch stubbornly to mine like a tick on an inner thigh. His happiness means mine.
Not only that, but I love him and I want him to be happy regardless of me.
I think that on some level, even the most jealous person in the world is compersive; they want their partner to be happy for their sake. Because that’s what love is. Even if they can’t notice it because it’s buried underneath the more pressing and scary worry of the relationship being under threat.
Compersion starts with safety
But you might notice I’ve only talked about my long-term partner when it comes to compersion. But what about the other men I’ve dated as a parent?
Well, I can’t say I’ve felt much compersion towards men I’ve dated more casually. Recently I wrote about my complicated feelings towards hearing of a new lover hanging out with another woman the next day.
I think the biggest factor causing me to feel compersion towards Flo and not this other person is: I don’t feel that sense of safety I feel with Flo.
Which brings me back to one of the most important lessons I’ve learned about jealousy.
It’s not about that other person your partner is seeing, and how hot they are, and how good they are in bed (even though it might be a little bit about that too).
Usually it’s 90% about your connection and how secure that feels.
So the most important way to make space for compersion is to deepen that connection, to work on that bond. To feel steady and safe.
By, for example, spending quality time together, by communicating about your feelings, by being able to be honest and vulnerable and still feel safe.
You don’t have to feel compersive all the time
It’s also worth mentioning that although I think it’s important to have a compersive attitude in non-monogamy: want your partner to feel happy even if it’s not with you, it’s also totally okay to not feel embodied compersion -- to feel that joy in your bones -- a distinction I learned from Marie Thouin, which she discusses in her blog.
Taking on the attitude of wanting your partner to feel this joy is enough. It doesn’t need to be this incredible tingly happiness upon sight of your partner making out with their lover.
It’s also totally okay to feel jealous.
I’m fine feeling a little jealous about other lovers/partners even while fundamentally I support that they see other people.
In fact, a little jealousy can even be sexy. Getting turned on by jealousy even has a name. It’s called Zelophilia.
That all said, I’m curious and excited to lean in more to compersion, to really feel it in my body when it comes to my partner. I’ve only gotten tastes of it so far here and there, but I imagine it could grow and feel really special when my partner is with the right person who I also like too.
If nothing else, the idea of it is beautiful.
I want to be able to indulge in other people’s love.
About the Author:
Sarah Stroh is a coach, writer, and author of Monogamaybe?, based in Berlin. She works with people who want their relationships to feel more aligned, alive, and genuinely their own—whether they’re exploring monogamy, non-monogamy, or simply questioning what actually fits their life.
Want to read more about Sarah’s journey from monogamy to non-monogamy? Her newly released memoir + guide, Monogamaybe? , follows her ten-year journey through relationships, jealousy, and figuring out what kind of relationship actually works for her. Sarah is also a non-monogamy coach and the author of the Substack Monogamish . You can also get her free 12-minute guide to jealousy here.
