The Problem with Romantic Love

Many of my teenage birthday candles were spent wishing for a boyfriend. These flames were stoked by all of the romantic comedies I watched. I would melt over the meet-cutes and montages. The declarations of love or the big romantic gestures would blow me away. I could feel my heart lean against my chest with envy. I wanted that.

Even though I still carry a soft spot for these films, I can’t help but wish for something different now. I want to see different kinds of love celebrated. We seem to have put romantic love on a pedestal: it is the best, most worthwhile love. Anything else is second place at best.

As someone who is perpetually single, I am made to feel like my friendships only add up to so much. That I’m missing out. This way of thinking lines up with the thought that a romantic relationship is two halves coming together to make a whole. Partners referring to their better or other half. I am firm in the belief that we should consider ourselves as a whole, without needing another person to complete us. More on that later.

I’m not here to mock or complain about those who are in relationships. I applaud their commitment and hope they continue to make each other happy. However, I don’t love the mentality that being in a couple is the best and being single is the worst.

I’ve mentioned before that I like being single. The main thing I dislike about it is how often it's written as a sad narrative. You’ll see the person in a film sobbing into a glass of wine or desperately dating and wonder what they’re doing wrong. It’s not just in films. I can vouch for real-life experiences of various reactions to my single state. From looks of condolence when I tell someone my status, to being told I’ll find someone when I’m least expecting it.

Even though some people may not believe me, I haven’t been looking — or expecting — a relationship for a while. I wish I could pinpoint the moment for you when I switched from wishing for a boyfriend to being content with being single. Perhaps this is because it didn’t happen suddenly, I just got used to it and then without me realising it became my comfort zone.

I was going to ask why so many people fear being single — or think of the status as a tragic fate that needs fixing or sympathy — but I think I know the answer. People fear being alone. I know there are so many good parts to a romantic relationship, but you know what? There are also great things about single that I don’t think get enough attention or fair representation.

You get to be selfish in the best way possible. You don’t have to think about another person. You can figure out what you want, rather than factor in someone else. You get to understand yourself better. You learn to be content in your own company. I am a firm believer that everyone should take time to be single so they know how to look after and love themselves, rather than constantly rely on another person to do it. Though, believe me, I know loving yourself is easier said than done.

I’ve been guilty in the past of building a romantic frame around someone and forcing them to fit into the picture. I had these notions of what a relationship should be like and I desperately wanted them to fit. Whereas I wasn’t focused on where I fit into this or how it made me feel. I just wanted that validation. That feeling of “this person wants me” and I could show the world an image of a happy couple.

We need to knock romantic love off its pedestal because it means some relationships are built on scrambled foundations in an attempt to reach it. I’d much, much, rather be happy by myself than unhappy with someone just for the sake of having their company. I hope this a mindset of the majority but honestly, I’m not too sure.

This is why we need to celebrate love in all of its forms. Our platonic relationships. Our friend soulmates. Our families — by blood or by choice. Our passions. And yes, our selves. There is so much more to life than getting a romantic partner. You can experience love in so many different ways. I don’t have to tell you it will happen when you’re not looking for it, it’s already there, perhaps you’re just not noticing it.