‘O friends, there is no friend!’
So goes the quote attributed to Aristotle by Jacques Derrida in a book I have not (yet) read. I will get right to it, as soon as I finish Sara Ahmed’s The Promise of Happiness, the handbook for being a killjoy. The Atlantic provided a nice snack between books on the subject.
This article tells the story of a handful of people for whom friendship is the primary way to relate to intimate people.
One hates to - or rather I hate to - tap into the ever-expanding taxonomy of sexualities and manners of attraction. But for a proximal shorthand, my life experience is and has been aromantic. Though before this attraction-taxonomical term the wording I would have used would have been ‘a series of romantic failures’. That game, of course, was rigged from the start. And especially in recent years, the wish to even have a romantic partner - definitely in the sense of a one-stop-shop of companionship, as worded in this article - has come to seem insane to me, to put it in mild terms. And trying to fit my life into t
... show more‘O friends, there is no friend!’
So goes the quote attributed to Aristotle by Jacques Derrida in a book I have not (yet) read. I will get right to it, as soon as I finish Sara Ahmed’s The Promise of Happiness, the handbook for being a killjoy. The Atlantic provided a nice snack between books on the subject.
This article tells the story of a handful of people for whom friendship is the primary way to relate to intimate people.
One hates to - or rather I hate to - tap into the ever-expanding taxonomy of sexualities and manners of attraction. But for a proximal shorthand, my life experience is and has been aromantic. Though before this attraction-taxonomical term the wording I would have used would have been ‘a series of romantic failures’. That game, of course, was rigged from the start. And especially in recent years, the wish to even have a romantic partner - definitely in the sense of a one-stop-shop of companionship, as worded in this article - has come to seem insane to me, to put it in mild terms. And trying to fit my life into that model has never worked, nor does it need to. (The only one-stop-shop I’ve ever liked has been Don Quixote, and specifically the one on Tanukikoji in Sapporo.)
It would be hard to pinpoint a friend who would be “number one” in intimacy for me, but that would be insane as well. Anarchy just works like that. But for one person to force themselves into that slot - which does not even exist - is an exercise in futility. And not in any good way. (Of course, in my case, I have commitments that are not people but which also cannot be bypassed by something like a romantic relationship.)
On a positive note, the term “ride or die” is a good one. Definitely not new to me, but it gained a bit of a new angle while reading this article. I am blessed enough to have a handful of ride-or-dies and to be such to a handful of people. Providence willing those exemplary relationships will guide the way I relate to other people. And they will, if I have a say in it.
‘O friends, there is no friend who is only friend, to be surpassed by an ideologically idealised companion!’
“Our boyfriends, our significant others, and our husbands are supposed to be No. 1. Our worlds are backward.”
Rhaina Cohen (The Atlantic)
