What Happens If Something Happens? (A Polyamorous Reality Check)
I got a terrifying text this morning.
One of my partners—someone I care deeply about—let me know that he had open-heart surgery earlier this week. It was sudden. Serious. The kind of surgery where they gave him a 20% chance of survival.
He made it. Thank the stars. He’s okay. But the message rocked me.
And not just because I was worried. (I was.)
Not just because I wasn’t there. (I wasn’t.)
But because of something I hadn’t fully considered until that moment:
What happens if something happens to one of my people—and no one tells me?
I’ve been married for 35 years, and I have loving, ongoing relationships outside of my marriage. I’m not a secret. I’m not casual. These connections are real. And this morning, I realized that I don’t know what would happen if one of them—God forbid—ended up in the hospital and couldn’t reach out themselves.
Would I know?
Would anyone think to contact me?
Would I find out days later through a missed message, a delayed reply, a silence that stretches too long?
And that’s when it really hit me: this is something we need to talk about in polyamory.
Right now, I date two men—Luke and Chiron—whose wives I’ve never met. Not because there’s animosity or secrecy, but because life is busy, boundaries are different, and not every meta wants to meet. That’s okay. But it also means… I don’t know what their emergency plan is. I don’t know if I’m listed anywhere. I don’t know if I’d be called.
And I suddenly realized—we need a plan.
We don’t talk about this part of polyamory enough. The logistics of love. The behind-the-scenes stuff that matters when it’s not sexy or flirty or fun. The very real truth that when you love multiple people, you have to think about multiple layers of impact.
This isn’t about jealousy.
It’s not about overstepping.
It’s about care.
It’s about making sure the people you love know—and are known—in the hard moments, not just the joyful ones.
So now I’m thinking:
Do we all have emergency contacts that reflect the real shape of our lives?
Do our partners know who to notify if we’re hospitalized, unconscious, or worse?
Do we trust our spouses, metas, or friends to reach out to “the other partner” when needed?
And more importantly—do we have those conversations now, before we ever need them?
I’m not here to tell you what your plan should be. I’m just here to say: if you’re in a polyamorous or non-traditional relationship, you need one.
Because when someone you love ends up in surgery and you’re not the legal spouse…
When you don’t get a call because no one knows you exist…
When you’re sitting with worry and silence and no answers…
That hurts in a way that’s hard to explain.
Love deserves better than that.
Even (and especially) when it doesn’t fit the standard boxes.
So—do you have a plan?
Do your people know your people?
Let’s talk about it. For real.
