From a young age, amatonormativity is inundated to us collectively from society. From movies featuring characters trying to save a princess, to music videos about being head over heels in love with one another, to depictions of a winged enfant terrible shooting people with love arrows, society preaches the notion that romance is an inevitability that everyone feels and that you’re not a mature human if you don’t wish to date or marry.
Once a person starts nearing puberty, people are expected to begin having crushes and start having their first dating relationship.
Growing up in school, kids would ask one another who they had a crush on. As the questions started, I would make up crushes to try and fit in with everyone else. I didn’t ever have feelings for the person, but I just said I did in order to fit in with everyone else.
While I never really carried out my crushes in any capacity (as I’ve never been on a date and have never wished to date), I’ve faced – and still face – intense pressure from others to do so.
Growing up in a religious home in the Bible Belt, my family constantly prods and pokes about why I haven’t yet married and why I’m not in a relationship. They constantly make derisive, judgmental statements like “You’re not getting any younger!” and “I would love to have grandchildren someday!”
Often, articles about being asexual are written in a way that makes being asexual sound like a lonely existence—unable to find dates, unable to find love. However, those articles leave out that many asexual people like me are also aromantic, in that we don’t experience romantic attraction. Articles that only focus on being single and alone as an asexual still reinforce the idea that everyone must be in a relationship of some kind and that is not all that asexuality is about.
Being aro-ace and single is more about joy than it is about sadness, at least in my case.
Being uninvolved in any romantic relationships gives me the freedom to enjoy time with my friends, pursue my passions, and go after my dreams. The relationships with my friends give me all the fulfillment I need in order to be happy. Even as many of them are in relationships themselves, I never feel left out as a third wheel. They include me as a central part of their lives, as I do the same for them.
Being single also allows me the space to feel free and find solace in solitude. My friends know me well enough to know that I am introverted. They allow me the space to back away and introspect when I need to. They also call in to just see how I’m doing and reach out to me. I am always appreciative of them for doing so. Our relationship may not be one that society calls “significant,” but to me, it’s as significant as any other relationship. It gives me all the emotional fulfillment I need.
It’s so bizarre how society disparages friendship to such a degree. There have been boundless iterations of strong friendships in literature, mythology, and other media, from Damon and Pythias, to Steel Magnolias, to Thelma and Louise. There are countless instances of everyone finding fulfillment and merriment with friends and pals, inside and outside professional contexts.
There isn’t a need for amatonormativity constantly pressuring everyone into relationships.
If we let relationships form organically and affirm all relationships – regardless of their name – as significant, people would generally be happier.
There isn’t a pot for every lid, and that’s okay. You are complete without a partner, and you don’t have to have one if you don’t wish to.
That should be the message every February 14.
Let’s stop pressuring people to be in relationships this Valentine’s Day by Tyger Songbird for LGBTQ Nation (2023)