aceness and re-learning to read romance
this is long. just warning you.
For a good portion of this year, I thought I’d started to hate romance novels. They’ve never exactly been the focus of my reading, but since I’ve started reading regularly again, they’ve always been a feature. For the most part, I’ve enjoyed them. There are always duds, of course, but more and more over the last few months I just…haven’t been able to take them.
Tropes I used to like suddenly annoyed me. Writers I once really enjoyed flopped time and time again. Was it them? Was it me? I severely downsized my romance collection. There were some hits, for sure. But they were fewer and farther between. I started to have much better luck when I focused primarily on queer romances, where I saw far more success. But that left me with another question. Why?
We should all be reading queer stories. Sci-fi, fantasy, non-fiction, horror, every genre, every month, every year. That goes without saying. My sudden fixation of queer romances could have just been a desire to see stories told in a different way, from a different point of view, old tropes reimagined. But what about my queerness: my aceness. Did that have something to do with it?
My aceness goes like this: I do not want to have sex. I probably never have. I probably never will. That’s the base from which I operate. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to read about sex. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reading about sex. I do. I love a well-constructed, hot, dirty love scene between any two consenting adults who want to be there. That’s fun. Sex is fun, as long as it’s not happening to me.
However, a thought recently occurred to me that I haven’t been able to let go of: have I begun to gravitate away from, full disclosure, mostly heterosexual romances because they make me feel like sex is happening to me?
I know a common criticism that gets lobbed at the romance genre and romance readers by joyless morons is that it’s all wish-fulfillment and self-insert. That women imagine themselves in the place of the heroine and get off vicariously through that. That’s certainly not always true. And if it is true, so what? I read sci-fi novels to live vicariously through people who get to fly around in space. I read cozy fantasy to feel like I’m in a magical world where everything is safe and comfortable. Self-insert is a valid way to read, but since we apparently need to be policing women’s desires all the time, it’s something women have to defend themselves against all the time.
But this isn’t about how capital “W” women read. This is about how this lower case “w” woman reads, and how I come to a piece of work as an asexual/aromantic. I realize I may have been coming to the piece as if I am the woman in the piece. I’m now forced to be her. Which is difficult because more often than not, she wants to be there and I don’t. I don’t relate to her because I can’t relate to her. I wouldn’t give the male love interest a second chance because I don’t feel her feelings and I don’t know how. Therefore I get frustrated when she does because what’s the point? Living happily ever after? I’m happy now.
You see where this is a problem.
I am not the person in the book. But somehow, I have been reading romances, and I feel it is particular to romance, as if I am. With queer romances, particularly ones where there are no female love interests (and those are, for the most part, the ones I inevitably picked) there’s a built-in defense against that. Against the uncomfortable feeling of being unable to separate myself from the female protagonist, from her choices feeling like mine, and her desires being completely antithetical to mine. I find myself liking those books a much higher rate more because I feel inherently set apart in a way I suppose I no longer feel in most heterosexual romances. It's just a book again.
I don’t think we’re taught to read this way. Maybe subliminally, I don’t know. I know not everyone reads this way. I know that “this has nothing to do with me, these people are not real, let’s see all of the fun things they do” is the way, probably, most people come to a book. I just never realized, when it came to romance, maybe I wasn’t one of them. Maybe I didn’t know to have that barrier up. Maybe I didn’t know it would end up bothering me so much.
I told my Dad I was asexual because I was reading a book and two characters were having a conversation and suddenly, or at least suddenly it seemed to me, one character began thinking they were sexually attracted to the person they were talking to. In the middle of the conversation. I was just…annoyed. Baffled and annoyed. Because here we were again. This was not a romance book. This was a mermaid and a human talking about some heavy stuff and then there it was. I felt slammed into. By this feeling I don’t get, this thought I’ve never had, that every single person seemed to have but me. I’d been thinking about asexuality, reading about it, talking with friends, asking myself, “Is this me? Is that why I don’t feel these things? Should I tell him? What will he think? I can’t not tell him. I can’t not tell someone. He loves me. He’ll understand.”
He did, by the way. They all did. I was lucky.
So. I haven’t had long to test this theory. I just finished my first heterosexual romance in a long time, and though there were very few sex scenes, I went into it with the thought, “This has nothing to do with me. Let’s have some fun.” And I did. I can’t promise they’ll all be like that. I don’t know if it matters if they are. They’re just books. But I wanted to reflect on this part of myself, this journey into what being ace means for me, how being more aware of it and accepting it as part of my identity, part of how I intrinsically think and approach the world, may change, may expand, how I approach everything.
I’ll never stop reading queer romance. It’s not a shield, I’d never treat it that way. I just hope that I’ll now be able to approach all romance the way I have always approached queer romance, as it’s own piece of art to be judged and evaluated on its own merits, as a story about people completely separate from me who happen to want relationships and like sex and will live happily ever after.
After all, I’m already happy now.
7 notes
·
View notes
it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
1K notes
·
View notes
George Martin, 2013: "In a very basic level winter is coming for all of us. I think that’s one of the things that art is concerned with: the awareness of our own mortality. “Valar morghulis” – “All men must die”. That shadow lies over our world and will until medical science gives us all immortality… but I don’t think it makes it necessarily a pessimistic world. Not any more pessimistic than the real world we live in. We’re here for a short time and we should be conscious of our own mortality, but the important thing is that love, compassion and empathy with other human beings is still possible. Laughter is still possible! Even laughter in the face of death… The struggle to make the world a better place… We have things like war, murder and rape… horrible things that still exist, but we don’t have to accept them, we can fight the good fight. The fight to eliminate those things.There is darkness in the world, but I don’t think we necessarily need to give way to despair. One of the great things that Tolkien says in Lord of The Rings is “despair is the ultimate crime”. That’s the ultimate failing of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, that he despairs of ever being able to defeat Sauron. We should not despair. We should not go gentle into that good night".
JRR Tolkien, 1962 : "One reviewer once said, this is a jolly jolly book, all the right boys come home [...]- this isn't true of course, he can't have read the story. [...] Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death. . . . . . (He quotes Simone de Beauvoir) 'There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation.' Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the key spring of The Lord Of The Rings".
"Lotr is all rainbows and unicorns and Asoiaf is nihilistic and grimdark". Wrong, and wrong. In all its hope and radiance, lotr often gets very dark, and despite all the death and suffering, the hopeful moments in asoiaf shine bright. The meeting point of these two is this: having hope while in despair, and even better, refusing to give up because you have to go on despite not having any hope left.
319 notes
·
View notes
Spring is here , the true beginning of the year , the season where my soul reborns and blooms .
I have made some progress in terms of the person I am becoming, truly in all my honesty all that i have done is to stop caring for everything that once used to matter , the less I care about anything in particular the less I am bothered and the happier i stay. And i really hope everyone here is doing well and I appreciate all the love that was sent.
The problem is I care a lot about everything and i don't even get the bare minimum in return and when i do get it it's too late, so much time has passed by then ,when it comes by then i do not want or need it because it's the not care that came out of love it came out of their guilts. And the longer i wait for it to come by -the more I learn why I don't need it anymore .
I am slowly learning to value myself ,trying to put myself in a position where I can agree that i too deserve all the good things and love even on the days when i have nothing to offer .
Idk guys I am just here to rant and to be stupid
Better late than never they say , I guess it's not too late for me either, I will start my life and live up to what I want & how I feel ,i don't have to care about anything else as long as I feel alive in my bones things will eventually flow, I will fall in love with myself little by little day after day.
I will choose myself instead of choosing others and I will fall in love with my solitude instead of bearing it with me , i don't care if I end up alone if I do end up all by myself I will be with someone who i know has a tendency not to give up .
Life is really short i just don't want to sit and watch it pass by , if I am lucky enough I will have 40 more springs to experience , I have clear boundaries and thoughts in my head now, eventually i will find peace through it I hope so.
Ramdan kareem to people who celebrate it here please remember gaza in your prayers and fastings
280 notes
·
View notes