Exploring Non-Monogamy and Kinks: An Interview with Sex and Relationship Therapist Beck Harrison

Written by Charlotte Baker and Kyla Williams

What made you want to become a sex therapist?

Originally, I thought I wanted to be a journalist, so I did a MA Media and Journalism at Newcastle University. After I qualified, I had a trial shift in a newsroom and I really didn’t like it, so then I had a bit of a panic! I realised I really like meeting people and hearing their stories, but journalism wasn’t quite the right fit; I wanted to do more than just listen. 

After that, I was in an exploratory phase. I had my own counselling with the NHS, which was really helpful, and then I did some sexual health training, and a Level 2 and 3 in Counselling. I was trying to decide what my next step would be, and I realised I could combine these two things. 

I’ve always found sex an interesting subject because everyone has a relationship with it, even if your relationship is that you don’t experience sexual attraction or you don’t have sex. But despite this, very few people feel comfortable speaking about sex openly.

I started sending emails out to sex therapists, and found a course that I really liked, Diploma in Psychosexual and Relationship Therapy with CICS, the Contemporary Institute of Clinical Sexology. Now, I am CICS’ Lead Tutor for Gender, Sexual and Relationship Diversity (GSRD).

Sex and relationship therapy is wonderful because you get to help people with a wide range of diverse experiences. Even when people present with the same issues, or want to talk about the same topics, everyone has a different experience. It’s a joy to be trusted with those experiences.

Why do you think it’s important to be a neurodivergent safe space?

As therapists, we need to consider the different ways that brains work. Otherwise, you could be sitting with someone and make an assumption based on the way that your brain works, and you could miss the client’s experience entirely. Whether you’re neurotypical or neurodivergent, it can be so easy to assume that your experience is the only experience. 

A lot of people I work with are neurodivergent, and therapy needs to be an affirming space. However you experience the world, however you have sex or don’t have sex, however you have relationships or don’t have relationships, however your brain works, you are welcome. You’re always the best authority on your own experience. 

Do you find there’s a sense of shame or stigma around non monogamous relationships and if so, what are they?

Yes, I think there is. Whenever you have a dominant social narrative (such as monogamy) and your identity or experience falls outside of that narrative, it can leave people feeling that they’re doing something wrong; and at that point shame enters. Shame is a social emotion, it’s designed to keep us from doing something that is counter cultural, that could exclude us from our communities. However, in the modern day the dominant narratives centre a cisgender, heteronormative, white patriarchal experience, and the result is that anyone who doesn’t fit into those ideals is vulnerable to shame. When multiple aspects of your identity or experience are marginalised, that shame can increase. 

Monogamy has its roots in colonialism. When colonisers saw that black and indigenous people were doing relationships, sex and family differently, it was important for these white colonisers that the behaviour was ‘other’ed’ so that the people could be ‘other’ed’. And part of that process was labelling those kinds of families, relationships and sexual practices ‘uncivilised’ and ‘immoral’. These ideas persist today.

One of the things I talk about in therapy is a concept called the “relationship escalator”, which is the chronology of life. So, you grow up, maybe you go to university and then maybe you meet someone, you have sex, you date for a bit, you move in together and then you get married and have children, then you die. And that’s it. This idea of the escalator it that once you get on, you move up at a steady pace and you can’t really get off – you're expected to move to the next thing, and the next, and the next. 

For some people, that escalator is great; it accurately captures everything that they want for their lives. For other people, when they’re looking at the way that they are expected to ‘do’ life and relationships, and the way relationships have been structured in their culture or society, it doesn't fit for them. 

This is where shame comes in. Then you have the alternatives stigmatised based on these colonial roots, where relationships that don’t conform to this narrative are bad, and the people that want something different are bad too. It can sound something like, ‘non-monogamy is for people afraid of commitment, it’s for people who are obsessed with sex, it’s a phase that people will grow out of when they find their ‘real’ partner’.

As a result, you’re left with whole communities of people who don’t fit into these very narrow definitions of how to exist in the world, who are viewed as sexually deviant or morally reprehensible. And then people start viewing themselves as those things too, which is how we get internalised shame. And when you have intersecting identities, that shame and stigma increases.

How do you feel about non monogamy not being recognised as a legal status in the UK? And what effects do you think this has on those who are in such relationships?

It’s incredibly difficult, because it means that those who are non-monogamous have little social recognition and no legal protections. It’s also not a protected characteristic under the Equality Act, which makes everything a lot trickier. We’re starting to see some non-monogamous relationships get legal recognition in other countries, which is great, but in the UK, we have a long way to go.

Similarly, I’m agender, and this isn’t a legally recognised gender – you can be male, or you can be female. There is no way to register as non-binary with services like the NHS, even though there’s a long history of people identifying as something other than male or female across multiple countries and cultures. It can leave you feeling invalidated. And, for non-monogamous relationships it's the same. 

How do you navigate a situation where one partner is monogamous and the other is non monogamous?

Yeah, very tricky. It comes up a lot in the work that I do. First, it’s important to note that whether you’re monogamous or monogamish, or non-monogamous, your orientation and desire is valid. Non-monogamy isn’t ‘better’ than monogamy, it’s just different.

The other thing I want to mention is that the language we’re using when we’re talking about non monogamy and monogamy implies that it’s a binary. But, even in monogamous relationships, nobody is doing relationships in the exact same way, and so nobody is monogamous in the same way.

There can be this assumption when you get into a relationship that both of you have the same ideas and values, and relationships continue with that assumption until someone crosses their partner’s value. For example, something like flirting with people that aren’t your partner, or using pornography; for some, these are perfectly acceptable when you’re in a relationship, for others, it's inexcusable.

So, even though we have this idea that monogamy is one thing, it isn’t, and loads of people are doing relationships differently. I want to introduce this idea of a spectrum, where we have monogamy and non-monogamy and a whole bunch of different experiences and boundaries and orientations in between. And, even when you have shared boundaries and experiences and aspects of identity, no two relationships are the same. 

When I’m working with mixed relationship orientations, the goal is to get into that complexity and figure out what each person's relationship values are; what is important to them, what is a non-negotiable, and what is an absolute requirement. We can look at the crossover and try to create an agreement that everyone can consent to. And as I said, there are lots of ways to do non-monogamy; you have swinging, don’t ask don’t tell, BDSM non-monogamy, polyamory, relationship anarchy, open relationships, closed triads, open triads, the list goes on and on.

One tool I use is called the “relationship smorgasbord” from Relationship Anarchy (RA). Relationship Anarchy is a kind of non-monogamy which is a radical dismantling of power and privileges in relationships, so relationship anarchists don’t consider friendships as less or more important than romantic or sexual relationships. The relationship smorgasbord separates out different aspects of relationships, such as how we feel about finances and how we feel about children and parenting, kink, sex, and emotional intimacy. 

Once partners start to talk about this, there can sometimes be cross over, where people didn’t think there would be. Sometimes there isn’t crossover, and then we’re in a new realm of work. Then we're looking at how we move forward from there, either by creating a new relationship or deescalating the relationship. 

It can be difficult and it’s affecting for different people because often we are talking about orientations, which are out of each person’s control. A lot of these people come into therapy because they care about each other and there’s difference, and that’s hard. But there’s a lot more between monogamy and non-monogamy than people think.

What stigmas are associated around kink and fetish?

I think it would really depend on the kink/fetish. When you said that, I was thinking about the way that psychotherapy and texts like the DSM-5 have historically pathologised diverse sexual desires and behaviours; they described normal sexual behaviour as ‘genital stimulation and preparatory fondling’. So according to the DSM, anything that isn't that could fall under the definition of a kink or fetish, even though everyone has different opinions on what “normal” sex looks like.

And again, it depends on the kink and fetish for the kinds of stigma that is attached to it. For things like foot fetishes, a stigma might be that it is dirty or perverted or amoral. This isn’t true, and foot fetishes are so common. For people that are into age play or role playing as someone older/younger than yourself, the stigma can be that it’s enacting paedophilia even though everyone involved is a consenting adult. For BDSM, if you’re into sadism a stigma could be that you’re abusing your partner. 

And then activities are further stigmitised depending on how many intersections of identity you’re falling into. So, if you’re a disabled person and you’re into being spanked for example, then the stigma could be that you’re being infantilised, you’re being abused by your carers, there’s a safeguarding issue. So, you’ve suddenly lost the autonomy of that person and their sexuality. If you are black, then a common stereotype is hypersexuality; you might be exotified and fetishised, particularly in kink spaces, and often by people who are white. People might assume that they can touch you without your consent, they might assume that you don’t have any limits or that they don’t have to use a safe word. 

So, I’m talking about broad, social and cultural stigma and stereotypes but then everybody will have their own perception and experience, based on their history with their sexuality and play practices. You might hold experiences of what happened when you talked about this kink with a friend, maybe as a teenager or an adult, how did your friend respond? When you share something for the first time, and people respond, either knowingly or unknowingly with myths and prejudice and a lack of knowledge, they can inadvertently shame the person. 

Also, sometimes people can view kink and fetish as queer sexual experiences and it’s not. Cisgender, heterosexual people are enjoying kink and fetish. And sometimes they’re experiencing another level of shame because something that they like is considered abnormal in heterosexuality. A heterosexual man that enjoys pegging can encounter internalised homophobia and start questioning their sexuality, because of a false belief that a sexual act denotes sexual orientation/attraction.

How do you feel about 24/7 BDSM relationships where the power dynamics are integrated into the everyday relationship?

Part of the stigma that BDSM practitioners, kinksters and fetishists face is that the activities they engage in are abusive. Particularly if you’re not part of that community, or you’re not in the scene, some of the things that people are engaged in can look a certain way. And what you don’t see is the high level of communication required for these kinds of relationships, the discussions about hard and soft limits, the start and end point to a scene, the aftercare. In my experience people who are into BDSM are more communicative, because you have to be to take care of yourselves and your partners. 

24/7 BDSM relationships can certainly be perceived as an abusive relationship on the surface by people who don’t understand the dynamic. I think it’s easy for people to fall into a moral panic. However, most BDSM practitioners are acutely aware of the risk of certain activities, they’re practicing and playing using safety frameworks like the 4 C’s (Caring, Communication, Consent and Caution). 

Do you ever find yourself in a situation where there’s a kink/fetish that you won’t work with?

One of the things that CICS is great on, is making that distinction between what’s consensual and non-consensual, and stressing the importance of ensuring that behaviours are safe without pathologising clients.

One of the questions I’d hold as a therapist would be, is this legal? Voyeurism, for example, is illegal. Frotteurism is illegal, so these would raise safeguarding questions for me. But even applying the law becomes complicated when we’re talking about BDSM, because under UK law, you can’t consent to actual bodily harm. This means that a lot of consensual impact play is illegal. 

Resources like the Healthy BDSM Behaviour Checklist helps therapists distinguish between kink and fetish behaviour that people can consent to, and behaviours that would raise a question of safeguarding.

Is there anything you’d like to add?

Something that I don’t think we’ve spoken about is the joy of non-monogamy. It can be this incredible experience of coming into authenticity with yourself, having the freedom to express love, affection, attraction and intimacy in a way that makes sense to you and your relationships. It can be exciting and fulfilling and erotic and affirming. There are a great deal of challenges and stigmas and stereotypes, but it is also wonderful.

It's the same for kink and fetish. Exploring your sexuality or your sensuality, following your attraction and fantasies and enacting them in a way you’re in control of; there’s such joy in that. Playing with power and sensation and taboo, whilst learning to communicate your limits and consciously listen to your body; it can be a fascinating and liberating experience. When you can strip away the shame and the pathology, there can be such great pleasure in enacting and exploring your desires.

Another thing I’d like to mention is that if you’re struggling with any of these subjects, finding an affirming therapist is really beneficial. Particularly with non-monogamy; having someone there who can help facilitate conversations between you and a partner or talk you through something can help you understand yourself, or each other. And I feel like that with kink and fetish as well; you don't have to do this alone.

There are financial barriers to accessing help; however, there are also low-cost services available. I’d recommend Sex Therapy Herts, where you can get low-cost therapy when you work with a trainee. Some therapists also do introductory rates if you’re a student.

We also must be really attuned to intersectionality with these subjects because not everybody has the same experience. I’m sitting here as a white, non-disabled, middle-class practitioner. The books I read when I was realising that I was polyamorous were written by people like me, and the spaces are built for people like me. 

What is a safe space for one person isn’t always a safe space for the other, because people have radically different experiences of moving through the world. I would hope that people are aware of the privilege that I’m coming into this conversation with, and part of understand that is listening and reading and learning from people who have marginalised identities. 

Also, jealousy. People sometimes think that if you experience jealousy then you can’t be non-monogamous and it’s just not true. Jealousy is an emotion just like any other emotion that you experience, and it’s pointing to something just like any other emotion. It doesn’t mean anything about your identity or your orientation. It’s a normal, natural experience; but it can leave us feeling like we must adapt our behaviour.

For example, we’d never say to our boss “I’m jealous of your new car, so you have to take it back”, that would be wild. So, I would encourage people who are thinking about non monogamy or different relationship orientations to get curious about your jealousy. It’s alright to be jealous. People are jealous. It’s normal. The more that you talk about it and figure out what it’s pointing to, is it an unmet need? Is it an insecurity? The less heavy all of this stuff starts to be.