Three Demiromantics Walk into a Bar
The confusion of sexual and romantic attraction
Two friends and I sit cross legged in a circle on the floor of my flat. Andrew is eating dinner, Tobey is shuffling a deck of jumbo cards, and I’m sipping on a cup of tea. I ask what the term ‘demiromantic’ means to them.
A demiromantic person is someone who can only develop romantic feelings for another when they have a strong emotional connection to them. But the term means something different depending on the person.
Tobey attempts to build a house of cards while he explains, “I think it’s probably the closest thing to what I’m experiencing at the moment. I like having some sort of label … so I’m not consumed by confusion.”
Andrew is quick to agree, “Because I don’t know, and the whole thing is about the not-knowing.”
When I ask about their experience with crushes, Andrew laughs and jokingly asks what a crush even is, and Tobey gives an equally non-committal answer. I bring up the topic of high school and the dreaded question of “Who do you like?” Tobey admits they’d just choose the “least objectionable” and move on.
Andrew says, “It’s only recently I’ve thought I’ve had a crush, and I’m not even 100% sure.” He finds it hard to explain, “It’s like, you could be an option, so I’m gonna explore the potential feelings, maybe?”
I offer, “Would you say it’s more of a step-by-step instead of falling for someone?”
Andrew takes a moment to consider this, “Yeah. That does make a lot of sense when you phrase it like that.”
Tobey’s deft hands continue making a house of cards. I take a moment to reheat my tea – I was so wrapped up in our discussion I forgot about it. The topic of romantic and sexual attraction surfaces.
“I think the two can only be separate for me, right now,” Andrew says. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced romantic attraction … the very visceral, emotional yearning. But I’ve enjoyed being with a guy physically.”
We pause when Tobey’s house of cards crumbles, but they gesture for us to keep talking as they rebuild. Andrew stresses the importance of communication, and both parties needing to be open and honest about their expectations.
Tobey chimes in about the idea that being sexual with someone you don’t know ‘turns you into a slut’. They say it's as if “you haven’t formed this incredibly intense romantic bond, then you can’t do these things with someone without it being seen as bad”.
Andrew brings up something I’ve never quite understood, “There’s a saying about love, that when you find the right person, you’ll know.”
I joke that nobody thought to inform my brain I’m supposed to ‘know’ – and it turns out, none of us have ever felt it. People expect you to fall in love, but instead you’re taking small steps. But I don’t want to fall down the stairs of love, thank you.
Tobey admits something, “I don’t know what it would be like to fall. What if I jump and there’s no point, and I just end up at the top of another cliff? What if there’s nothing but another cliff, with nothing good at the bottom, and I’ve just broken all my limbs.”
Andrew tries to be positive, “But then there’s the chance you fall and find something wonderful. In theory, that’s something I want to do, but I don’t know if I physically can.”
The house of cards collapses again – the jumbo cards don’t make it easy. This time, Tobey doesn’t try to rebuild it. Instead, they look up at us. “I’m worried I’ll leap, and I’ll fall, and I’ll feel nothing. Will I ever feel anything like that at all? I’m so worried I just can’t when I want a romantic relationship so bad.”
Because that’s the thing. We’re trying to build a house of cards, and it should be easy. But we’ve been given strange cards to use, and it's so much more complicated than people tell us it should be. Maybe one day we’ll do it, but for now? My tea is cold again, but my heart is warm, and we finally start a round of cards.