Aromantic Perspectives + New Podcast Episode!

So far in this series on romance, we’ve been redefining romantic love; expanding what it looks like, when and with who we can experience it, and what meanings and futures we can make from it. We’ve put in a lot of work to re-value and recover romantic love.

Today, I want to bring in an aromantic perspective. Aromanticism is holding the other, equally true pole: that maybe we don’t need to rescue or redefine romantic love. It’s possible to have different and gorgeous experiences of loving and connection that are not centered around romantic love.

Here’s a definition of aromanticism that I adore: “Aromanticism is a romantic orientation, which describes people whose experience of romance is disconnected from normative societal expectations, often due to experiencing little to no romantic attraction, or sometimes feeling repulsed by romance or being uninterested in romantic relationships.”

I love how this highlights how strong our social norms are around romance and how much they affect our experience of ourselves. We have deeply embedded social beliefs that romantic partnership must be something that everyone wants. That if you don’t want it, there must be something wrong with you, that you will live an empty and loveless life. Aro people have to contend with these beliefs constantly; many go through long periods of feeling broken and feeling like they will be alone because the only kind of love our culture values is romantic love.

If we are interested in changing our stories around romantic love, we need to take romance off its pedestal. If we divest from a singular story of what romance means, we make room for a proliferation of emotions, experiences, and sensations, and we open up the stories we allow these sensations to generate, and the places we let them lead us.

Learning about asexual and aromantic perspectives has been life-changing for me. They’ve validated a lot of the frustrations I feel with our current romantic paradigm, and made me feel less alone and less broken.

For me, aro perspectives help validate some of the distrust I feel with romance. I enjoy romance, I think it’s spiritual, but it’s not something I really want to build my life, structures, and priorities around. I don’t always trust the high of romance, the way it grabs my brain. I want to separate the actual feelings of romance from the stories that swirl around it; do I distrust romance, or do I distrust the stories that I ascribe to it, or think I have to play out? If I do want to let romance back into my life, what does it look like it lean into it, to say yes, while preserving my ethics, not getting swept away in the old stories, the things I think need to come after romance?

This person’s explanation of their relationship orientation really resonates with me: “My kind of relationship anarchy, the way I’m emotionally wired, entails loving every person I love in a very deep, intense way, and because I truly don’t differentiate between ‘romantic’ and ‘nonromantic’ love or feel the need to draw behavioral differences between ‘romantic’ relationships vs. ‘friendships,’ there’s no particular kind of relationship in which commitment is more important to me than other kinds.”

Aromantic and asexual people have been doing the hard work of affirming that their ways of loving are enough, not wrong, and beautiful. That there are multiple ways to love others, and that there are adventures and stories everywhere, not just in romantic love. And that there are many ways for a life to go, and many things to focus on that can bring joy.

We don’t need to rescue or rehabilitate romantic love. The framework of romantic love is just one way to connect to life force, desire, love, and connection. Romance culture tells us that if we don’t follow the script, we’ll be alone and loveless, but there’s so much more opportunity for deep, alive connection if we tap in to what love truly looks like and feels like for each of us. If we’re curious about how connection wants to move through us with each different person and in each moment, we can meet whatever arises— whether it looks anything like romance or not.

In her incredible book Ace, Angela Chen writes, “[liberation] comes in rejecting sexual and romantic normalcy in favor of carefully considered sexual and romantic ethics.” In this spirit, engaging with romance— if we so choose— can come from a place of curiosity and willingness, not compulsory narratives or “shoulds”. We can play with romance, invite it into a space without letting it run the show. We can be the writers in our own stories instead of just actors following a script.

Also, there’s a new episode of the Creative Encounters podcast out! I’m talking about how one of the most important skills to build for the future of love is being comfortable with others not understanding you or being on the same page. The old way of loving needed everyone to be doing the same things, and used resentment and shame to push everyone in the same direction. I talk about how I’ve used this same shame and resentment against others out of fear of being the only one doing things differently, and how I’ve been learning that trust and embodiment of my way of loving helps me celebrate others who want different things. And I rant a little bit about weddings but like, from a chill place of learning how to show up for them ;)

You can listen on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Thanks for being here!