If asexuality is often called the invisible orientation, because it is so little known, what then is aromanticism, which is even less well known?
At the core of aromanticism is the idea that romantic and sexual attraction are distinct attractions, which can be hard to get your head around if you’ve only ever experienced both at the same time. But even for non-Ace or Aro folk, romantic and sexual attraction don’t always go hand in hand. For example, people talk about finding someone “hot” but not wanting a relationship with a person, or wanting a fling with no emotional involvement. People also talk about regretting the lack of sexual attraction when they find the person appealing as a romantic partner.
I grew up in a world that taught me that finding a romantic partner was expected and inevitable. I saw this in the experiences of those around me as well as in media and fiction. As a cradle Catholic, my faith also taught me that the best and proper way to have a family was through marriage. The only people who didn’t were in religious orders – monastic or priestly.
In my teens and twenties I had the odd crush, but it never went anywhere. I thought maybe it would happen when I was older. I tried dating, but felt trapped by waiting to feel “something”, and by pressure from the other person waiting for me to feel something that they already felt. My attempts were intermittent and infrequent. Over time I assumed I was broken, slow, or incompetent. I found Valentines’ Day depressing and infuriating in equal measure. It was a holiday I was completely left out of and felt devalued by for not being able to participate in it. It felt like my platonic relationships were dismissed as lacking any value because they didn’t have the holy grail of romance.
In my 40s I worked out that I was asexual, and later came to accept that I was aromantic as well. Asexual was easier to get my head around. What is a romantic attraction anyway? But one of my favourite asexual creators, Ace Dad Advice, has a saying that our orientation is our experience over time, and as I looked back at my attempts at finding or trying romantic relationships – half-hearted, with no real depth of feeling behind them except amiability and friendliness, it was clear that my experience fit within aromanticism too. I had a very real desire to become a parent, and I had a desire to reach this optimum situation for children – marriage - but with no real sense of desire for a husband.
Both of these self-discoveries were very liberating in some ways. I was no longer broken, slow or incompetent, or even unlucky. I was different; solo not single. Not a loose end. Growing up, church teachings solidified what the world was teaching me – that everyone falls in love eventually. It’s codified in the sacraments, but also, for Catholics, church life, much of which revolves around family life. A single woman in church is not unusual but often sits infantilised with her family, or may not really quite find a role. For me, as someone fond of children I found my way in through catechism – I became a catechist for holy communion. I spent some time doing Christian youth volunteering. I became part of the choir.
I want to be clear - no-one has ever directly dismissed me or made me feel less than for being a solo person, at least not deliberately. But there are no tax breaks for friends who live together and share household bills. There are no priorities given for long term friends who want to adopt or foster. As a single person, it is assumed your parents are your next of kin in medical situations. Your relationships are not societally recognised or respected, even if they are valued by those you have them with. A favourite auntie, your closest friends, or a much loved cousin are all valuable to the people who know them, but legally and socially they are characterised as “just friends”. Less than, despite in some cases being more permanent and important than a romantic relationship.
This Valentine's Day, I ask you to consider who might feel left out in your life – how could you involve your single friends, or Ace/Aro friends in your celebrations? Perhaps consider doing something for Galentine's Day on 13th February, or creating your own version of Valentine's Day that includes relationships outside of heteronormativity. Let’s celebrate all forms of love and connection, recognising that every relationship, romantic or not, deserves to be valued and cherished.