A column of international perspectives on queer Berlin

Madi Awadalla looks at Berlin’s polyamory scene asking what freedom, fairness, and commitment really mean

If you haven’t been invited into a Berlin polycule, are you even queer? I’ve had the invitations, so I should know. In my experience, there are usually two types of people in the Berlin dating scene: the already-taken ones (scouting for a threesome, a throuple, or whatever will keep things fresh) and the fuckboys who don’t believe in commitment, already scrolling Grindr to arrange their next hookup before they’ve even left your place.

But now that I’m in a polyamorous situation myself, I can’t help but wonder: am I living out some Berlin fantasy of radical freedom? Or am I slowly becoming… my mother? Where I come from, polygamy still exists. The Qur’an says you may marry up to four (if you are a man, of course) but you must treat your partners fairly when it comes to time, money, and affection, and then quickly adds that you won’t be fair. This paradox has even been used in places like Tunisia to ban polygamy altogether. Food for thought, especially for those whose romantic education is limited to The Ethical Slut and Polysecure. Polyamory hits home because it’s also the story of my family. My mother found herself a second wife: not a glamorous title like “nesting partner” or “secondary partner,” but one that clung to her like the stigma of a homewrecker. She still lives with the consequences, and the impact has been heavy.

My sister, on the other hand, staged her own small feminist revolution: she divorced her husband just because he dared to think about sharing himself with another woman. She was the first divorcee in the family, a title that, where I come from, is far more scandalous than “relationship anarchist” could ever be at a Berlin afterparty. Polyamory, at its best, lets us admit that desire is bigger than one body, one bed, one life. Many people practice that truth anyway – they just call it cheating. What makes poly powerful is naming it instead of hiding it. But this also raises the stakes.

Commitment doesn’t disappear just because you add more people. If anything, it multiplies. And yet in Berlin, so many play poly like a game of musical chairs: running around, jumping in and out, leaving people dizzy and dependent. Freedom is easy. What’s harder is leveling up: actually showing up, actually caring, actually being honest in practice and not just in theory. But in a big city like Berlin, options are endless, commitment is suspicious, and responsibility is uncool. We live in a time and place where nothing feels permanent, so of course our relationships echo that instability. And calling it radical politics sounds better than admitting we’re scared of sticking around. The real question is: are you willing to share? And if so, will you be fair?