We put too much importance on romantic relationships
With February drawing to a close, romantic iconography is out and symbols of spring have officially hit the shelves. With romance culture’s overt marketing campaign coming to an end, I feel there is an appropriate juncture to talk about how—actually—the romanticization of love is an ongoing market that impacts our culture and the way we think of ourselves and others in small, everyday ways.
I am almost certain that if I asked a room to tell me what they think of when they hear the word ‘love’ it would not take long for the topic of dating, marriage, flowers, chocolate-covered strawberries, and the whole shebang. Sure, familial units, pets, and friends might take up some of the conversational space—as it seems to in real life—but I think it would be a lot less dominating. Why is it when we think of love, when we talk about love, and the best, most ideal form of love: it is always referring to a romantic relationship? While I think there is an argument to be made about how romance is not exclusive to partnered relationships, for the sake of clarity and word count, I am not going to be focusing on the nuances and complexities of that philosophical quandary. Rather, I will be exploring how I feel the emphasis placed on being ‘taken’ can be very damaging to people’s feelings of self-worth or how they are able to conceptualize their own ‘ideal life.’
As a disclaimer, I feel it may be beneficial to specify that I do not hate love. In fact, I would say I feel quite the opposite. For many, a fulfilling and healthy romantic partnership can help them feel accepted, heard, seen, prioritized, and aid them along in their life and healing journeys. This being said, I think the assumption that romance should work this way for everyone, or that this can not be found in other types of relationships is harmful. In the media, we are overwhelmed with songs, movies, books, and so much more that are either centrally focused on a tumultuous, slow-burn romance plot, or at their conclusion, make sure the main subject is with the “right” person—even if the synopsis of the media has no hint of romantic spin.
This constant exposure doesn't stop there though, as social media hotspots like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube are full of people who showcase all the best and most picturesque moments of their relationship: luxurious vacations, five-star dates, cutesie shenanigans, and public/virtual displays of affection run wild. With this, though, the pitfalls, plateaus, or hard work that people put into these relationships to make them function is conveniently left off-screen; Resulting in shock and grief when the romantic relationships don’t end well because, to the audience, there was never any sign of friction—just bliss.
This assumption that romance and marriage are the end-all, be-all of one’s life and signifier for them “making it” puts unneeded pressure on those who are single, or not interested in romantic relationships at all, and leaves them wondering how genuine their experience of happiness and fulfillment can be when it lacks a romantic element. This wish, and in some cases desperation, can lead people to going-out with or dating people that are not good for them because in their mind—and the mind of society—being perceived as taken is equivalent to broadcasting that not only are you a person deserving and worthy of love and attention, but that the life you lead is, in some ways, more fulfilled.
Putting less focus on romantic love in media and culture is a vital and underappreciated mode by which we as a society can become more pluralistic and accepting of communities, such as the aromantic community, in ways we might not have previously considered. Dialing down this unspoken pressure and ideal is a move that, I feel, would help make people and society as a whole better able to appreciate all of the relationships in their lives—from the romantic and beyond!