Ask Irene: Stretched Thin
Hi Irene, the holidays are my favorite time of year, but I’m feeling stretched thin between my two partners. My wife and I have long-standing traditions we love, but my girlfriend, who lives out of state, is asking for more of my time since she’ll be visiting her family nearby. I’m worried that trying to make everyone happy will leave me exhausted and neither of them will be satisfied. How can I balance everyone’s needs while still enjoying the season myself? – Stretched Thin
Dear Stretched Thin, I feel you. The holidays can already be loaded with everyone’s Hallmark-movie-level expectations, and now you’re dancing between partners who each have their own visions of the perfect seasonal moment with you. Before we go any further, let’s acknowledge that it’s normal to feel guilty or torn. You want everyone to feel cherished, you want the tried-and-true traditions and the new sparkle, and the idea of disappointing anyone can hit you right in the chest. It’s a tough spot, and you deserve some compassion for even being in this predicament.
I’m reminded of a friend who tried to orchestrate the “perfect” holiday for three different partners—each event kept separate, no one comparing notes. She practically turned herself into Santa’s number one elf that year, attempting to fulfill three different wish lists at once. On Christmas Eve, she had a total stress meltdown while driving from one holiday dinner to another. And in the aftermath, it turned out that all three partners would have been happy to combine plans in some way. One of them had actually been wanting the opportunity to get to know the other two more, but didn’t feel the door was open for that because of the intensity with which my friend was planning everything. Had they all been in the loop, maybe the load on her would have been lighter. It was a painful lesson for her, but it highlighted something important: hiding all the moving parts to spare everyone’s feelings can backfire big time. I rarely say “should”, but nobody should be doing polyamory to be doing more shit alone.
This leads me to an important point: consider how you structure your polyamory and what would be supportive to you as the hinge partner here. Are you practicing parallel polyamory, where your partners rarely interact with each other directly? If so, maybe that’s totally fine—some configurations thrive that way. But even in parallel dynamics, it can help if your partners have a realistic picture of what’s going on in the bigger emotional picture, not just a black-box version of your schedule. Sometimes metamours hearing each other’s feelings, even indirectly, can humanize everyone involved. Your wife might realize, “Oh, your girlfriend isn’t trying to steal Christmas from us, she’s just excited because she’s in town for once.” And your girlfriend might understand that your wife’s long-standing traditions aren’t about excluding her, but about maintaining some cherished rituals that have been built over years. They both might benefit from hearing that you’re feeling pressure. And you all might do well with the reminder that sometimes integrating new relationships around the holidays can move slower than the relationship escalator taught us, simply because there are more complexities and logistics to juggle. Culturally, this is new territory; it’s not any individual or relationship against the other one, it’s all of you together trying to shift and co-create a new ecosystem (even in parallel poly).
If your partners are open to it, could they communicate directly—maybe a brief group chat or a FaceTime call—to discuss what everyone is hoping for? Not to solve everything at once, but just to help them see each other as real people with their own hopes and vulnerabilities. As the hinge partner, it’s your responsibility to set clear expectations and make sure everyone knows the constraints of your time and energy. But you don’t have to do all the emotional labor solo. Sometimes a little metamour-to-metamour conversation can shift the dynamic from “I want more of your time!” versus “No, I want more!” to “I get it, we’re both important to this person, how do we work with that?”
Of course, direct communication among metamours might not be your jam—and that’s okay—but it’s worth considering if the holiday stress is getting too high. Even if you prefer to keep things separate, you can be more transparent about your schedule and limits, and what would also be supportive for you in navigating a high pressure season. Do you need to schedule a solo date for yourself to go walk around the light show alone? Let both partners know: “I love you and I want to celebrate with you, but I need to be realistic about my energy and time. Here’s what I can do this year.” If someone feels disappointed, that’s not proof you’re failing; it’s just what happens when humans have needs that don’t fully align. Feelings can be felt and acknowledged without anyone needing to be the villain. Beautiful holiday moments can happen in their full magic, without needing to avoid sadness or hurt.
Try to reframe the guilt: you aren’t rationing your love—your love isn’t a finite Christmas pie. You’re navigating logistics, time zones, travel schedules, and clashing calendars. The holidays can hold both delight and compromise. By being honest about your capacity, encouraging a little more understanding among your partners, and recognizing that no one gets the “perfect” holiday scenario, you can create something more sustainable. Maybe that looks like staggering celebrations, gifting your girlfriend a special night out before she leaves town, and then having the cozy Christmas morning with your wife as usual. Or maybe it means inviting everyone to a cozy brunch where you watch silly holiday specials. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution, but any solution starts with honesty and a willingness to let go of perfection.
You deserve to enjoy the holidays too. Your partners care about you, not just a set of orchestrated traditions. Give them a chance to understand your situation, and give yourself permission to say, “Here’s what I can do—and here’s what I can’t.” Over time, these honest conversations can shape holiday patterns that are meaningful, manageable, and even kind of magical in their own unexpected way.
With understanding and permission to toss perfection aside,
Irene