These past few weeks, something that
has been weighing heavily on my mind is the concept of romantic versus platonic
relationships, specifically between women [who are attracted to other women]. I’ve
found myself in a situation where I am grappling with the concept on a personal
level, which has led me to think more about its origins, its specifics, and how
it is established in society. This thinking was instigated, and this situation began,
in rather naïve circumstances – summer camp.
I never went to camp as a kid. My
family struggled financially, and my mom figured that having us play outside
all summer long was enough. So, this past summer, when I was given the
opportunity to work at a camp in upstate Michigan for a few weeks, it was my
first real “summer camp experience”. The camp was beautiful, and the two weeks I
spent there were one of the most magical experiences of my life. The lake was
blue and sparkling, a lazy warmth filled the air, and yellow sunlight bathed
everyone in a bright comfort. It was everything summer camp was supposed to be.
Immediately upon my arrival at the camp, I was struck by the presence of a
fellow counselor of mine. She was exactly my type – blond, fit, passionate, and
extremely genuine and sociable. It turned out she was attending the same
college as I am, and we somehow hadn’t met in the past two years we’d been
there. At camp, we became fast friends. With only a small group of counselors,
and a mutual friend between us, we bonded almost instantly. Within the parameters
of the situation, I wasn’t able to put up the walls I usually do in order to
protect myself emotionally, and let her in without even really realizing it.
Despite my instant attraction to her, however, our friendship quickly took
priority. I almost forgot about it, except when small moments would make the
chemistry between us apparent. The magical haze of camp kept us in this limbo
world where were all in this together, and everyone was a little bit in love
with each other.
Summer camp is a commonly sapphic
experience, mostly in childhood as campers, but in my experience as an adult
counselor. I’ve heard countless stories of young girls who get involved with
one another at camp, whether it leads to a realization of one’s sexual identity
or a one time straight girl’s experiment. Now, my experience at camp wasn’t any
sort of revelation – I’ve been out since I was 12. At 20, I’m a pretty
presenting lesbian. I consider myself butch, and can often be found donning
some variety of a button-up, oversized sweatshirt, and pants. I sleep in boxers
and wear suits to most formal events. My relationship with my sexuality isn’t
perfect, but I’m pretty open with who I am. Perhaps it’s my openness with my
sexual orientation that caused me to be a sort of beacon to the girl I’d met at
camp, who revealed to me at one point that she’d recently discovered that she’s
bisexual. She seemed to come to me for a sort of solace, as a wiser and more
experienced girl who already knew the ropes. Perhaps it is because of this fact
that there was chemistry between us. Either way, the chemistry lingered, always
in the background of our interactions. I wondered if this chemistry would fade
once camp was over, if it was just all part of the magic that was secluded to
that little section of Michigan woods. But we were going back to the same city,
and the same school, and I knew that no matter what, I wanted to keep her in my
life.
Long story short, it’s been four
months and I am now head over heels in love with her. She’s studying abroad for
the semester and I have no clue if she feels the same way I do. That chemistry
still remains, though. In the few weeks we spent together before she left, we
fell into a comfortable, intimate rhythm. We’d have sleepovers, where she’d
make me breakfast and we’d go to yoga together in the morning. We’d cuddle, my head
on her chest listening to her heartbeat. She’d sing to me, or offer to pay for
my food if we were out in a group of people. Even now that she’s away, we remain
in consistent contact. We facetime every other week, and write each other
letters. We’re insanely supportive of each other, able to confide in one
another for everything and trust each other with our emotional vulnerability. She
tells me constantly, “You are love.” I’ve never had anybody love me the way she
loves me. To anyone else, we’d be dating. To us, it’s complicated. As someone
who’s been our for eight years now, I’m just now starting to be able to
distinguish between my romantic and platonic feelings for other women. I still
struggle with the difference sometimes. Her, on the other hand, just starting
to come into her own as a queer woman, can’t differentiate at all. She sees us
as platonic friends, when we are clearly treading the line into more. I’m afraid
to do anything, in fear of scaring her off or ruining the amazing relationship
we have, but my feelings grow by the day. I can’t wait until she is no longer
abroad and we can actually explore the feelings we have for one another. I worry,
though, that she’ll never think of us as anything but platonic, and I’ll be
suffering in silence. How is it that we’ve gotten so close, yet still can’t
define our relationship? Why are we unable to differentiate between romantic
affection and platonic intimacy?
This phenomena is not uncommon among
women who love other women. The stereotype of “useless lesbians”, girls who
have been basically dating for ages yet are unable to realize it, proves true
time and time again. I’ve found myself wondering why this is, why queer women
are so oblivious to romantic feelings for one another. What’s so clear to those
around us, we never notice. I believe it’s deep rooted in society, in the way
women are valued in the eyes of each other and others. We have been societally
conditioned to believe that heterosexual love is the standard, have never been
exposed to same sex love, and therefore when we experience it, we can’t recognize
it for what it truly is. Women who have never been told the truth about love
between women think that it must be different than love between a woman and a
man, so when they feel what they already know for a woman, they misconstrue it
as friendship.
On the other hand, women also
confuse their attraction to other women as friendship because it’s not like heterosexual attraction. The
result is a jumbled, mish-mash, hypocritical situation where we’ll take the
good parts of what we know as romance (cutesy parts such as hand holding, cuddling,
buying one another presents, etc.) and subtract the negatives that often come
with heterosexual attraction. In other words, since there is no sense of predatory/aggressive
attention in lesbian/wlw attraction that there often is in attraction between
men and women, women think that what they feel can’t possibly be actual
attraction. In my case, as someone more experienced who is in this situation
with a less experienced girl, I am afraid to tell her how I feel because I actually
worry about coming off as predatory or aggressive.
The concept of friendship between
women has also been distorted throughout history – many female “friendships”
are not friendships at all, but romantic relationships. Women in the past often
had close, even intimate, relationships with other women that would never be
recognized as romantic. Women married to men would still have close “friends”,
whom they would kiss and even have sex with. Scholars write about “spinsters”
such as Emily Dickinson, who never married but formed lifelong “friendships”
with other women. Even nowadays, people joke about “gal pals”, girls who are
seen holding hands or even kissing and are still considered nothing more than
friends. Girls have “girl crushes” on one another, and I’ve even heard of women
having casual sex with one another and still thinking of themselves as
straight. It’s no wonder so many women are confused, as female friendships are
considered “just that close”.
This difficulty in differentiating
has even spread to the media and pop culture. An example that has been at the
forefront of my mind lately is the relationship between Kara Danvers and Lena
Luthor on the CW show “Supergirl”. The relationship between the two women is
practically the only reason I watch the show, which is filled with inconsistent
plotlines, cheesy stories, and flat characters. However, Kara and Lena, deemed “Supercorp”
by online fans, aren’t even a couple. They are stuck in that same limbo state
of not friends but not quite lovers that so many queer women find themselves
in. If they were a man and a woman, they would’ve been a couple within episodes
of Lena’s first appearance. The two display clear romantic affection for one
another; they are at each other’s beck and call, always there to support or comfort
each other. They share long hugs and cuddle on the couch. Lena tells Kara she’s
“safer with her”, and that she’s her kryptonite. Kara has literally put her
life at risk to save Lena. At one point, Lena fills Kara’s entire office with
flowers – a clearly romantic gesture. Their conversations with one another are
often filled with sexual innuendo, and they have chemistry that even the cast
has acknowledged. Yet the writers refuse to actually put them together. Is it
purposeful queer-baiting in an effort to gain more viewers, or are they
succumbing to the limbo space of being unable to differentiate between romantic
and platonic even in their writing? Either way, something is up – Kara and Lena
have a thousand times more chemistry with one another than they each do with their
respective male love interests. One would think it’s simply Katie McGrath’s
inability to act interested in a man, but Melissa is doing it, too.
This phenomena is prevalent in other
non-canon relationships between women in the media, such as Emily and JJ in “Criminal
Minds” and Beca and Chloe in “Pitch Perfect”. However, some rare works actually
do it right. Two of my most beloved fictional couples are Bo and Lauren from “Lost
Girl” and Piper and Alex from “Orange is the New Black”. “Lost Girl”, like “Supergirl”,
isn’t the best TV show. A lot of the dialogue is more than cheesy, and the show
is full of plotlines that don’t make sense even within a sci-fi story. What “Lost
Girl” does correctly, though, is its portrayal of bisexuality. It’s one of the
best I’ve ever seen in the media. Bo, the protagonist, is a bisexual succubus.
Throughout the series, she grapples with her love for both Dyson and Lauren, a man
and a woman. Her attraction to Dyson is
more primal and aggressive (he is a werewolf, after all), while her
relationship with Lauren is more comfortable and soft – while still being
intense and sexy. There’s never a comparison between her love for the genders,
they are equal in Bo’s eyes. Bo and Lauren do share sweet, gentle moments that
could be perceived as being platonic – yet they are still in a relationship.
They sit and cuddle on the couch, in exact ways I’ve sat with my crush. What “Lost
Girl” does right is recognizes that there can often be a thin line between
platonic and romantic, but actually displaying women’s love for one another in
a realistic fashion. “Orange is the New Black” does the same thing. Piper and Alex’s
relationship is innocent at times, such as when they sit side by side on their
bunk, just shoulders touching. But it is also raw and sensual, passionate and
loving. “Orange is the New Black” shows both sides of the line, shows how
friendship is an important factor in a romantic relationship. Piper and Alex’s
love is pure; I look to it as a standard for relationships, and I can only hope
to be in that kind of unrelenting mutual love someday. For now, I look to
society to stop pinning heterosexual love as the standard, and to provide people
[especially women] with all different depictions of love so we don’t end up so
confused and can actually be comfortable and secure in our relationships with
one another.
As
a last question, specifically to those who have been in a situation similar to
mine: What do I do when I’m in such a complicated situation, where we aren’t
able to differentiate between platonic and romantic, her even more so? What if
she never does, and I am stuck so in love but not wanting to frighten her off
or ruin our friendship? Help, this hurts my heart.
