Romanticism Isn't Dead

For the longest time, I viewed the term, “romantic” and anything that resembled romanticism in a negative light. I only saw it as a one dimensional term, like rose petals on a bed or chocolates gifted from a lover, a love poem that stuck out like a sore thumb. I thought of these things as girly, therefore they were bad. I know, I sound like a Bad Feminist but that’s because sometimes I am a Bad Feminist.

I have softened on the romantic as I have gotten older, partially because there is more to being romantic than anything that airs on The Bachelor. That’s the cheesy, over-the-top, Hallmark greeting card romanticism that is peddled to the public once a year to make you feel either really good or really bad about your partner depending how much money they shell out in order to give into this Capitalistic idea of what love looks like. But I have also realized that in this cruel, unforgiving world we live in, sometimes it’s nice to relish in the cheesy romantic gestures like receiving a dozen roses if it helps you briefly forget all the rest of the ugliness in the world.

Over the years I have realized I am a romantic. Maybe I’m not expecting lingerie or chocolates or cards or flowers, but it’s the small gestures, the effort behind an act or prophetic words that really mean so much. It’s why when I listen to a song for the first time, I look at the liner notes and follow along with the lyrics. I want to hear a piece of another person’s heart. I don’t need to know the meaning behind it, I can figure that out on my own. I just want something I can lean on to when I’m feeling a certain way and know there is another person in the world who had that exact feeling at some point in time. I find darkness and depression beautiful and romantic in its dour ugliness. As a writer, I guess it’s no surprise I find something special in the written word.

Sometimes when I watch a film or a television show, I find something romantic in a very problematic trope—a man pursuing a woman heavily. This is where the Bad Feminist comes out. I think you should respect a person’s boundaries and when they say no, you stop.

However.

In a case where maybe there is some playing hard to get scenario, there is something about a man putting in a lot of effort to get the girl. I guess deep down I’ve always wanted a man to be that interested in me. Not to the point of stalking, but just putting in the extra UMPH to simply speak with me or just have any interaction with me. Anything that acknowledges my existence and his dire need to be in my orbit.

Simply put, I seek out someone who desires me. Desires to be with me. What a common human condition that I could never put into words for a long time because I was nauseated at the thought that made me a Girly Girl and Girly Girls are not cool. I’m not special, and I’m hardly above wanting to be wanted and wanting to be loved. I am a human, looking for a connection. I may not want marriage, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want companionship. Saying that aloud and not cowering about it is hardly weak. It’s just me finally coming to terms with the things I want out of this life. It’s such a simple thing, but who doesn’t want something as simple and lovely as someone to walk around this world with? A connection that can withstand time, someone to spend the rest of your life with?