The myth of happy ever after

Commentary on Lily Allen's marriage moved from interest to judgment

Have you listened to Lily Allen’s new album West End Girl? I think it’s pretty good. It chronicles the breakdown of her marriage, which was a non-monogamous one. She found that hard to live with and does not hold back in telling the world. It has led many commentators to dismiss non-monogamy. There have been plenty of albums that have dealt with the break-up of monogamous marriages, such as Adele’s 30 in 2021. I don’t recall that album being cited as nail in the coffin of a “traditional” marriage. Nonmonogamy is less common, of course, so we could put some of the interest in Lily’s story as sign of novelty.

But the commentary has extended beyond interest and into judgement. When it comes to intimate relationships, many still cling to the powerful social narrative that there is a “proper” way to do them. For most of recent history, that way has meant monogamy: one partner, one lifelong bond, ideally sealed by marriage. But the obvious but overlooked truth is that there is no one-size-fits-all formula for anything in life, intimacy included. Monogamy works beautifully for some people and terribly for others. Polyamory can bring liberation and connection for some, and confusion or conflict for others.

Social narratives can coordinate behaviour and give life structure. But they also generate expectations that may not fit everyone. “Find the one,” we are told, “and settle down.” Those words contain both promise and pressure. For people who find deep satisfaction in emotional and sexual exclusivity, monogamy can be profoundly fulfilling — a reliable container for trust, intimacy, and shared growth. But for others, the same container can feel like a cage. When the social script insists that happiness must look a certain way, you can find yourself measuring your life against a template rather than your own experience. That is one of the main reasons people stay in relationships that no longer serve them or feel shame about desires that fall outside conventional expectations.

Around 40% of marriages in England and Wales now end in divorce, and while that statistic is often treated as a symbol of moral decay, it can also be read as a sign of adaptation, and possibly progress. Divorce rates rose as social and economic freedom expanded, especially for women. Many divorces reflect not failure, but people recognising that the relationship no longer serves them. While happiness dips sharply in the period around divorce, it typically recovers within a few years. People leaving high-conflict or low-satisfaction marriages often become significantly happier afterwards. Leaving a bad relationship is a happiness-enhancing decision.

Many marriages fail because of infidelity, so it is at least worth considering whether other relationship types might be better for at least some of the people some of the time. Polyamory, for example, invites us to rethink two assumptions: that love is scarce, and that commitment requires exclusivity. For some, these ideas resonate deeply. They find that sharing love with multiple partners can expand their sense of connection and honesty, as long as it is underpinned by communication, consent, and respect. For others, the emotional complexity and time demands of such arrangements make them more stressful than fulfilling.

The key to a good relationship, monogamous or otherwise, is how well it aligns with our preferences and constraints. Consider attention and time, both critical determinants of happiness. Polyamory distributes these across multiple relationships, which can be rewarding but demanding. Monogamy concentrates attention on one partner, which can be stabilising but sometimes stifling. The trade-offs are real, and neither arrangement is inherently superior. The happiest relationships are those where the trade-offs are made consciously and collaboratively, not imposed by default.

Designing relationships intentionally means asking questions that often go unasked: What kind of intimacy do we each want? How do we feel about exclusivity — sexual, emotional, or both? How do we manage jealousy, boredom, or desire? What stories about love and loyalty are we living by, and are they truly ours? These questions can feel uncomfortable because they expose the assumptions we’ve absorbed. But discomfort is not the same as dysfunction. It can be a sign that we’re beginning to live more authentically. Many people find themselves committed to ideals they no longer believe in, performing fidelity while secretly yearning for other experiences. That kind of attention breeds guilt, secrecy, and resentment.

The same danger exists in polyamory when people adopt it to appear progressive or to please a partner rather than from genuine desire. I get the impression that Lily Allen become non-monogamous to please her husband. Her husband should have been honest about his desires before tying the knot. But Lily could have left the relationship at any time. We all have a choice. You don’t have to be monogamous, and you don’t have to be polyamorous. But you should try to be honest – with yourself and with others.

The real question is not which model is “right,” but which one allows you to give and receive attention, affection, and love. Like happiness, love is not something we find by following a formula. The happiest people are not those following the most approved script, but those attending to what genuinely matters to them. This doesn’t mean rejecting marriage or traditional relationships. It means reimagining them as options, not obligations. I would recommend that you opt into listening to the Lily Allen album, but opt out of the judgement of non-monogamy.