When “Sisterhood” Becomes Surveillance: A Note on Toxic Monogamy Culture

I love the idea of those secret women-only dating vetting groups—the ones where you upload a guy’s profile pic and ask if anyone else is dating him. The original intention? Beautiful. Protecting women from liars, cheaters, and abusers? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

But after being in those groups for a while, I can’t help but feel a slow, quiet cringe settle in. Not because of the men being called out (some of them absolutely deserve it)… but because of the culture that’s developed inside the group itself.

And honestly? It’s not just about that group. It’s a mirror of something bigger:

✨ Toxic monogamy culture.

Not monogamy. Toxic monogamy culture.

You know it when you see it. It sounds like:

• “If he really loved you, he wouldn't even look at another woman.”

• “Men and women can’t be just friends.”

• “He heart-reacted her story? Red flag.”

• “He went on a second date with someone else before committing to you? Dump him.”

  
  

It’s this idea that real love = exclusivity + control + constant access + mind-reading + ownership. And if he talks to, looks at, or has ever breathed in the direction of another woman, it’s betrayal.

And yeah—sometimes that vigilance comes from a very real place of pain. Many of the women posting in these groups are navigating trauma, betrayal, or confusing dating dynamics. But instead of being offered grounding, healing, or perspective… they’re often handed a pitchfork and told to start digging.

So what exactly is toxic monogamy culture?

It’s a belief system that says:

• Desire should only exist for one person, ever.

• If your partner doesn't meet all your emotional and sexual needs, something’s wrong—with them, or with you.

• Jealousy = love.

• Your partner’s behavior is a reflection of your worth.

• If he flirts with someone else, it’s cheating.

• It’s normal to stalk your boyfriend’s followers to see who he’s liking photos of.

• If someone else finds your partner attractive, it’s a threat—not a compliment.

  
  

And what makes this so harmful is that it turns insecurity into a moral high ground.

Here’s the harm it causes—especially in these groups:

1. It weaponizes other women. Instead of building community and solidarity, it teaches women to view one another as threats, rivals, or “other women” to be policed. That’s not sisterhood—that’s scarcity.

   
   

2. It replaces communication with surveillance. Instead of learning how to ask for clarity or define a relationship on your own terms, you’re encouraged to dig for dirt and crowdsource your heartbreak before you’ve even had a direct conversation.

   
   

3. It encourages performative outrage over relational nuance. Did he actually cheat, or did he just not communicate that he was dating multiple people? Are you mad that he lied, or that you assumed exclusivity without asking?

   
   

4. It pathologizes natural human desire. Spoiler alert: Even in loving, committed relationships, people still notice other people. The goal is honesty and consent—not pretending that attraction disappears.

   
   

5. It turns healing into drama. Grief is valid. Betrayal is real. But sometimes these groups become echo chambers of outrage that keep people stuck in victimhood, instead of offering tools to actually move through it.

   
   

So what’s the alternative?

• Talk to the people you’re dating. Ask questions. Get clear. Don’t assume exclusivity unless you’ve explicitly agreed on it.

• Know your needs and your boundaries. And learn how to express them without shame or threat.

• Get curious before you get furious. Sometimes you’re not being betrayed—you’re being shown a mismatch in expectations.

• Build community, not competition. That other woman isn’t your enemy. She might be just as confused—or just as manipulated—as you.

• Practice relational literacy. Learn about attachment styles, trauma, communication, consent. Even if you choose monogamy, you'll navigate it with a lot more grace.

  
  

I’ll say it again: I love the intent behind these groups. I love women helping women. I love the instinct to protect each other. And I believe in calling out dangerous behavior.

But many of these spaces aren’t teaching relational skills. They’re not helping us develop boundaries, emotional clarity, or healthy communication.

They’re just teaching us how to police each other’s pain.

Safety doesn’t come from catching every possible lie. It comes from knowing yourself—your needs, your limits, your worth—and making decisions based on that clarity.

So sure, vet your dates. Trust your gut. Ask questions.

But maybe take some of the advice in those groups with a grain of pink Himalayan salt.

Because if your healing is based on gossip, groupthink, and emotional chaos… you’re not really healing. You’re just rehearsing your fear.