By N. (they/them)
It is terrifying to think that not experiencing romantic and/or sexual attraction is seen as a lack.
It is very similar to the idea of not having access to something: the door will always remain closed for people like me, because I do not feel these things that society expects from me – I do not feel these things that society wants me to feel in order to be complete. That door is locked and it will prevent me from wandering through the rest of my journey. The door is a premature stopping point.
For society it means: my story is not worth being finished.
And society screams it loud. My story is not worth it. My story is not enough. My feelings only come halfway – the rest is missing;
(heteronormativity and amatonormativity fuel the fire of internalised aphobia).
Love is barely seen as a progression. It is only something that is hidden behind that door, reduced to romantic and sexual attraction. Love is something that is almost supposed to happen all at once; you take a step forward, walk into the other side of that door, and there it is! surely you’re in love now! you’ve crossed that distance! you’ve crossed that gap between “emptiness” and love, congratulations!
For them it means: what I’m feeling, it can’t be love.
(because love can only be achieved behind that door.)
Surely, what I’m feeling can’t be love, right? I don’t want to kiss my best friend. I don’t want to sleep with my best friend. I don’t want more. So surely, it would be useless to even try opening that door, right? I don’t have access to love – this isn’t love. This can’t be love.
The thing is – there’s a huge difference between love and romantic attraction, just like there’s a huge difference between love and sexual attraction. Don’t get me wrong: both are two kinds of love. Both are incredibly valid. But what society forgets to tell you about is this: there are other kinds of attractions. And all of them are included in the meaning of a word that has been tainted by heteronormativity and amatonormativity: love.
True love (the true meaning of love) – it goes beyond that door. Love cannot be locked up. Not by the system, not by anyone; not even by your own heart. It comes and goes in various melodies, in a plurality of echoes that clink against different perceptions of each of love’s meanings.
Love encompasses the heart; each of its beats is unpredictable, indictable. It is unique. But most of all, it is never ending, because it cannot be reduced to one word only;
(love [n.] is a societal lie).
Who are you to infer that what I feel for my friends isn’t love?
The truth is – my best friend is more than a best friend. But my best friend is not a romantic interest (even less a sexual one). And for years, I’ve kept telling myself that it couldn’t be called love.
I’ve spent years invalidating my own feelings: if they never come close to romantic and sexual feelings, I should give them up. I shouldn’t even say them out loud... what would people think? – You like your best friend? Ask them out, then!
(means: only a relationship will make what you’re feeling valid. a relationship will make you visible. you’ll always come second if you’re not in a relationship, because friendship isn’t as strong as Love, you know?)
These are the things that I’ve ended up believing in.
Yet they’ve always sounded fake in my ears. Why would I ever want to erase the notion of friendship when it is what I fell in love with in the first place? To me, going through that door would mean taking the friendship with me, still. And in that way, I am falling for my friend as a friend, through all the meanings of love that it does and does not imply.
Amatonormativity hides things from you. Discovering new words scared me. I was terrified of looking up the definition of “alterous attraction” – and yet, it proved to be the key to most of the mysteries my mind was holding back. I was dreading to find out the truth about myself, because it would make me differ even more from a rest that shouldn’t be so important. It is unbelievably messed up to be afraid of finding out that some of your feelings have a name.
(alterous attraction, in my subjective perception: everything that lies in-between platonic and romantic attraction, and everything that is paradoxically outside of both. comparable to the “non-binary” of what would stand between romantic attraction and sexual attraction. formed through a deep emotional bond. it’s like a best friend, but more... yet just enough?)
There is so much more, in my heart, than what society has been trying to conceal for so long.
But even with the obstacle of social constructs in mind, it is also about the fear of knowing that alterous attraction doesn’t come close to enough – probably doesn’t mean as much – to people who experience romantic and sexual attraction. It is the fear of knowing that alterous attraction will not be completely meaningful to my best friend.
They want something different, and they deserve to have these desires met.
(where does that leave me? – out.)
All these moments that I’ve shared with my best friend – they’ll never resonate as hard as they do with the moments they are spending with their romantic partners. Romance adds another touch to it. It fits (somehow) better (maybe).
One thing that frustrates me to no end is the fact that, in another version of this existence, it might have been me on the other end of these romantic colours.
Because I am a hopeless romantic. I love romance, I yearn for it, soft and sweet and passionate, full of meaning. But I do not experience romantic attraction for my best friend; and for that reason, these moments won’t taste the same. I’m not what they need.
But nothing about this invalidates the feelings that I do experience. Platonic, aesthetic, alterous attractions – I do feel them, and I should always be able to embrace them plainly.
One day I might find someone for whom this will be enough – it’s okay if i’m not there yet, as long as I allow myself to feel it anyway. If that day comes, I might get over that fear – of being inadequate, easily replaceable.
I want to burst through that door – want to open my eyes and stare at all the moments I’ve been daydreaming about, and see each of them as they reflect upon my words. I want to say it out loud:
from a friend to another friend, nothing less,
(does it matter?)
I am in love; in my own way.
N. submitted this post anonymously, but you're welcome to leave comments for us to send along to them on AoA's twitter!
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