There’s so much emphasis placed on romantic relationships — as if the most fulfilling love is meant to be the one that just so happens to be the most fleeting — or often regarded as such. I've been re-interpreting how love (noun) presents itself in my life lately, and how I've chosen to perform (verb) it. What are the acceptable notions of love I submit myself to, and why do I regard these behaviors as a submission rather than an embrace?

Maybe it's just because I'm not drinking that Kool-Aid: you know, the storytime story that's been pervading the media — thus, my mind — that romantic, eros, love is the ultimate love. And even with the surge of "self-love", I can't help but feel an underlying current of "just until I find/meet/happen upon someone who loves me as much as or more than I love me".  I can't help but feel this current in the atmosphere, because in many ways, I feel this way myself. And I'm a product of my environment, so…

I've enjoyed the thrill of lust and ecstasy of desire — both desiring and being desired. There are few feelings I've yet to experience that have come close to the often inexplicable primal urge to connect — in whatever ways you can think of. But what's often occurred for me after the initial sunset, the first indication of rose-stained love, has been a haze; a sort of darkness. When I was a teen, I'd often refer to this as being in the "unknown zone". I'd spend time, even before I understood the what, how, and why of metacognition and introspection, wondering how I'd traversed the landscape of blissful desire and connection to simultaneous subjective and objective awareness of myself — a self consciousness. In retrospect. I can get the deeper pangs of self consciousness in my teens, but, having made strides in transcending insecurity in the "love" arena over the past year, I often question the residue of insecurity I sometimes observe in myself now in my late-twenties.

“…how and why is it somehow etched into my mind that I would inhabit a thriving romantic partnership and it would be all about me?”

I suppose I'm so acutely aware of how the template of modern romantic love performs in my life because it operates (yes, I'm shifting the onus off of me for a moment) in such stark contrast to the other types of love I have and do experience in my life — friendships being the most influential type.

I recognize that I am responsible for my life and for how I interpret its events. I recognize that I've held platonic relationships to a higher standard than non-platonic ones. That as I lamented losing a friend, my outward expressions of discomfort, upset, and sadness were, oftentimes, more authentic than those same expressions I've made when losing a lover. But, as much as I claim responsibility for the question mark that is my "love life", I'll also return to what I wrote earlier, and that is that I am a product of my environment.

I feel strong enough, most days, to ignore or give a well-crafted eye-roll to the pervasive gender-normative, archetypal depictions of romantic love; and to the behaviors that'll "get a man to go crazy for you". What's hard to ignore, though, is the mist of hope in my mother's voice when I confide in her that a potential partner is no longer potential, and she encourages me to open myself up to relationships. What's hard to ignore is when my beloved mother and aunties advise that marriage is, essentially, about compromise and that "things are not only about you anymore." Then I think, and even sometimes joke — why not? Why shouldn't things be about me? Often after these conversations, I'm surprised at my own immaturity concerning not romantic love, but romantic coupling, because I know any healthy and successful relationship — just like any partnered dance — takes two. I'm not part of any healthy friendships where I give without receiving or receive without giving. So, how and why is it somehow etched into my mind that I would inhabit a thriving romantic partnership and it would be all about me?

“It's almost to say that if you're "with" someone, you must somehow be lovable, or at least likable.”

Perhaps, I don't know, it's the messaging of "happy wife, happy life", or "make sure you're with someone who loves you more than you love them". Perhaps it's even being treated like a trophy by potential partners who, I'll admit, I've probably treated like shit at points. So, I'm experiencing some cognitive dissonance concerning romantic love.

I question if we couple up to survive. And I don't mean survive as in ensure our bloodlines continue via procreation; I mean survive social stigma. It doesn't feel right to assume we couple up to avoid loneliness, because most times I feel more fulfilled on my own than with others — and I think people can relate to being in relationships where they feel they always have to be "on". I wonder if being in a romantic relationship is the unquestioned prerequisite to being accepted-then-respected in most societies. It's almost to say that if you're "with" someone, you must somehow be lovable, or at least likable. People regard you differently. I say "I wonder", but I know — because I do it. And if I (sub)consciously value coupled individuals over non-coupled individuals, we all do. I am but one among the masses, periodically popping my head above water and diving below the group for respite, and to get a better look.

Do you want to know the deepest irony of these musings, though?

I'm apprehensive to share my thoughts with cyberspace because I wonder if they'll cause my chances of coupling up to decrease. Ain't that some shit? This is how the scenario plays out in my head — I post these words online, a potential partner reads them, decides I'm too thinky, not ready for a relationship, not interested in a relationship, and deems a figurative me, basura. And there I am, posting more confessional essays online five years later about the complexities of, our friend, love.

But that's just a narrative I made up.

Life is full of narratives; life is all narratives. Narratives become our realities. I guess I better be mindful of what stories I'm telling.