Emotional Blackmail

Before I get to the topic du jour, here's a little background context:

Tomorrow night, Lilianna will be introducing me, Parker, and Travis to her new friend Paul. We'll all have dinner, and then, assuming that everything goes according to plan, she and Paul will be spending their first night together.

Rick, Lilianna's husband, is fine with it. He and Paul were officially introduced yesterday – Lilianna had lunch with both of them – and apparently it went really well, much to Lilanna's relief. (She called me on the way to the restaurant, saying she felt like she was in a twisted replay of that Seinfeld episode in which George freaks out about the collision of “family world” and “relationship world.”)

Robin, Lilianna's boyfriend, is not fine with it.

And that's an understatement. According to Lilianna, Robin told her, “I can't shake the feeling that if you and Paul make love on Wednesday, you'll be doing it on top of my grave.”

A possible suicide threat, however melodramatic, is not a thing to take lightly. Lilianna was worried. I was worried, too. In fact, I wrote Robin a note, telling him I was really concerned about him. He responded, saying he was touched by my concern but that I could rest assured that he wouldn't harm himself.

I was reassured. And I was also a little pissed.

Everything Robin has been saying to Lilianna – his over-the-top, end-of-the-world rhetoric – it's all just a form of emotional blackmail. Something is happening, and Robin wants it not to happen. If his threats and insinuations don't change Lilianna's mind, they may at least change her state of mind: Robin wants her to be worried sick about him. If she's so worried about him that she can't enjoy her evening with Paul, so much the better.

I have no doubt that Robin is genuinely suffering. Jealousy is no fun.

But the reality is that nothing Lilianna does with Paul tomorrow night is going to hurt Robin. In reality, what Lilianna and Paul end up doing together tomorrow night actually has very little to do with Robin.

And THAT is what's really bothering Robin. It's not about you is the truth, but it's a truth his ego just can't stomach. No wonder he has an impulse to reassert control, to impose, to make the evening all about him, insofar as it's possible to do so.

This brings us to a common poly conundrum: when someone you love is experiencing acute jealousy, what do you do? Naturally, you care about how he or she is feeling, and you want to proceed with care and compassion. But does that mean you have to capitulate to every irrational fear, every unreasonable demand? Must you take full responsibility for inflicting a pain that's largely imaginary?

Mainstream culture has it that the person who causes a lover's jealousy is almost always in the wrong: if person X flirts with person Y and that makes Z jealous, then X had better make amends to Z. X had better promise Z that there will be no further jealous-making behavior with Y or anyone else. (Notice that Y's feelings about the matter are not even taken into consideration.) But even the monogamous mainstream will concede that there are times when Z is just making things up: if person X tells person Y, “Have a nice day!” and person Z gets all bent out of shape about it, it's just TFB for Z.

So, the real question is this: under what circumstances ought we to put down our desires and/or our ideals in order to attend to someone who claims to be hurt by them? Is love really about sacrifice? If so, whose sacrifice?