outlawroad:

1. In a Relationship —

This, perhaps more than any other term, expresses in vernacular English the unconscious assumption of romantic-sex based relationship hierarchy. When someone says that they are “in a relationship” or asks you if you’re “in a relationship,” what they mean is: are you romantically involved with someone you’re also fucking? They don’t mean: do you have a friend or is your mother still alive or are you in touch with yourself. All they mean is, do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend (I’ll get to those words in a moment). Stop and think about what this phrase really implies. By my common sense, if anyone asks me “Are you in a relationship?,” my answer is going to be: “Well, I fucking hope so. Because if I’m not, that means I’m living on a deserted island by myself and I have absolutely no self-awareness.” Using the term “in a relationship” to exclusively describe a romantic-sexual (monogamous) relationship creates this atmosphere in which the only relationships that matter, the only ones worth asking about, the only ones that somehow alter your position or status in the world at large are those that include romance and sex. 

And that fucking pisses me off.

There’s not a human being on the face of this earth who isn’t in a relationship. You’re in a relationship with yourself every moment you live. You’re in a relationship with your parents, your siblings, your friends, your co-workers, your boss, your enemies, your casual acquaintances, your pets, your god(s), your work, your car, your money, etc.

So how about we stop with the talk that implies none of those are real relationships.

And another thing: “in a relationship” used as the diametric opposite of “single,” which is a fucked up term in its own right, reinforces a consciousness that to be without a romantic-sexual partner is to be alone. Your other relationships don’t mean shit, you as an individual out of relationships don’t mean shit, and if you’re without a romantic-sexual partner, you’re not relating to anyone in a significant way.

2. boyfriend and girlfriend —

These mostly piss me off for the implications they make of the impossibility of true male/female friendship (that is, a relationship between a male and female that doesn’t include sex or romance). In tacking on “friend” to “boy” or “girl,” the implication for heterosexual individuals (whom these words must’ve been originally created for, since homosexual relationships were forced into hiding for so long) is that the only way to be “friends” with the opposite sex is to connect with them on a sexual/romantic level.

Think of the frequent handling of these words in movies and TV: that moment you’ve seen a dozen times where somebody asks a character, “So is he a boy that’s just a friend or your boyfriend?” The question itself creates a hierarchy wherein the romantic-sexual partner role is of far more public interest, value, and significance than the friend role. If the answer is, “That person’s my friend,” the inquirer will either not believe you or feel a strange disappointment on your behalf. 

It’s almost 2012 and America’s still largely convinced that it’s fucking impossible for heterosexual males and females to form nonsexual bonds. This language? Doesn’t help.

3. Friends with Benefits -

I will forever favor the term “fuck buddies” over this one, and I’ll tell you why.

“Friends with benefits” makes two insinuations—that sex is, by nature, a benefit and that friendship by itself is deficient enough that it could use a sexual component for the sake of its improvement.

Both of those insinuations are fucked up. Friendship is not automatically improved by sex. Sex is not intrinsically more valuable than friendship, nor does it make a friendship superior to another without sex.

Not to mention that the use of the word “friends” in this phrase necessitates a comparison to all your other “friends” who you aren’t fucking. And considering that quite often, two people in a fuck buddies relationship are much less emotionally bonded than two people who have been real friends for quite some time, it’s almost insulting to all of those other friendships to classify the fuck buddy relationship in the same category.

4. “Romantic” as a Synonym or Euphemism for “Sexual” — I.e. “Are you in a romantic relationship?” or “They were romantically involved.”

First, let me say that I understand in many cases, romance and sex coexist in the same relationship for people. In that sense, it isn’t inaccurate to call said relationship “romantic.” What it does is create an omission of important information: that the relationship is also sexual.

Why this use of the word “romantic” is problematic: It restricts romance to a sexual context. You’re saying that the only kind of romantic relationship is one that’s both romantic and sexual. When people talk about these relationships, they may never say the word “sexual” but you can damn well bet that everybody’s assuming sex is happening in these “romantic relationships.” The attitude is that romance is inseparable from sex and, furthermore, that romance is defined by sex. This conflating of romance and sexuality is the reason why people ignorant of asexuality want to assume that lack of interest in sex also means a lack of interest in romance. It makes shit even harder when you’re someone who does romance in nonsexual relationships that aren’t necessarily “couple” relationships either. (Think about romantic friendship.) It enables ignorance of mixed orientation sexual people who are capable and interested in having sexual relationships that aren’t romantic and romantic relationships that aren’t sexual.

There is nothing accurate or beneficial about treating “romance” and “sex” like the same damn thing. Nor is there anything beneficial about constructing a belief in your mind that romance is inseparable from sex, even will you understand that sex happens outside of romance.

So hypothetically, if someone asked me, a celibate asexual, about my romantic relationship status and if I was in a romantic relationship at the time, I would feel compelled to specify that it’s a romantic nonsexual relationship. Without calling it that, they’re going to assume I’m fucking my partner. It’s not their business one way or another if I am, but for the sake of my own integrity and openness about my identity, I would clarify.

I would also have to clarify to a person I’m interested in that my interest is in romance and not sex.  I couldn’t just say “I want to be in a romantic relationship with you” or “I have romantic feelings for you” and leave it at that because they’re going to assume that I also want to fuck them. And I don’t. Ever.

And what the hell are you supposed to do with those relationships that don’t fit into a clean, neat box within the “friendship/romance” dichotomy? What if you’re in an emotionally intimate, nonsexual relationship but you don’t know if your feelings are romantic or platonic or in between? You can’t confidently say you’re in a romantic relationship and yet, if your only other option is “friendship,” you have no suitable alternative. (This is where terms like romantic friendship and queerplatonic come in. And thank God, because there do happen to be folks in the world who need those words.)

Bottom line: “Romantic” and “Sexual” are 2 different things. Even when they coexist.

5. Single -

Again, with the implications that the only relationship worth defining yourself by in the public sphere and in the privacy of your own mind is one that functions as a “couple” relationship. Singlehood is stigmatized in American culture. People pity you for being single. Sometimes they even feel like it’s their personal duty to fix your plight, to get you into a relationship. To be single is to be alone, lonely, pathetic, undesirable, and a whole host of other negative shit that can only be magically fixed when you couple with someone. Saying “I’m single” means “I’m looking for someone to make me not single.” Even when you’re not looking.

And don’t even get me fucking started on how our government treats single people (who, in their eyes, are all the people who aren’t married, including those in couple relationships) on the legal and economic planes. You get fucking rewarded by the State for ending your singlehood. Don’t fool yourself into thinking for one moment that this treatment by the government, combined with the ongoing narrative in media about the desirability of couple status, has absolutely no influence on the way you see yourself and others or the way you feel about relationships. We spend more waking hours in front of computers, TVs, listening to music, staring at ads, etc than can ever be considered sane. If even 1% of all that input portrays “single” as equally legitimate and positive as “in a relationship,” I would be fucking shocked.

Finally, I reject the word “single” because I was born an individual and I’m going to die an individual, regardless of any relationships with others I have in between those two events. I am not half a person that needs to be paired with another half in order to make a whole. I am not automatically less alone with a partner than I am without one. And I will not define my status by one category of relationships as if the all the others in my life don’t mean anything. Why should I consider myself “single,” as someone without a traditional romantic/sexual relationship, when I have a best friend I’ve loved for over a decade? Why should I consider myself “single” when I have a sister who I love and who loves me as we will never love any other person?

And why the hell should the outside world, simply by one word, consider me “available” to them? I’m the only one controlling my “availability,” regardless of who’s in my life or not.