A while back, when I mentioned my growing impression that the way people talk about “the split attraction model” is amatonormative, the response I received at the time was mostly confusion. I didn’t really address it again until later — and since a lot of things were going on in that thread, I believe that particular point may have gotten lost in the shuffle. So this post is dedicated to bringing that back into focus and discussing exactly that: how using “SAM” (or “non-SAM”) to mean rosol (or non-rosol) is amatonormative. Allow me to explain.Continue reading
Tag Archives: amatonormativity
Be advised these are not proper “notes” but more like a slapdash pileup of sources on the subject, loosely categorized, and sprinkled with the occasional quotes and bullet points. I figure they can be a starting point for anyone interested in investigating further. More or less a response to this conversation. Crossposted. Updated 9/17/19.Continue reading
[This post has been crossposted to Pillowfort.]
In the midst of other inter/intracommunity discussions going on, here’s something I want to put back on the radar: There’s some unspoken assumptions underlying some of how the ace and aro communities discuss “relationships,” and I think that needs to be addressed. For the purposes of making this point, though, I’ve decided to come at the issue by discussing the word “single,” specifically in relation to recent developments in my own life.
This is a post which has been exceptionally difficult to write.
But for now, here is where it starts. The word “single,” for describing a state of not participating in a romantic relationship, has certain limitations — limitations which have been addressed by aromantics before. In short, they would say, the word “single” implies too much. Those observations have weight, but personally, my problem with the word is the opposite: that it doesn’t convey nearly enough.Continue reading
Originally, my Genealogy of Queerplatonic (Part 1) was going to have multiple sections, but due to length I ended up cutting a lot of extra links I’d collected on other different-but-related concepts. I’m now sharing those links here, in their own post. In other words, even though this post mostly isn’t about the concept of “queerplatonic” by name, you can think of this post as a kind of Part 2.
Featured in this post: a set of smaller link compilations on relationship anarchy, platonic orientations, alterous attraction, and more.
[Note: This post has been crossposted to Pillowfort. Edited 4/28/19.]Continue reading
This post is a sampling of links charting the etymology, development, and controversies of the term “queerplatonic” from 2010 to 2019. The concept has been back on my radar again, so to speak, and I’ve been thinking about saying more about it, but I’ve realized that in order to respond to certain patterns, I’d need to document them first. This post represents my effort to do just that.
Accordingly, I’ve tried to refrain from building toward any particular argument or central claim. Instead, I leave most of that to you. However, I am wary of this post being linked or cited in any way which outright contradicts my understanding, and so I have provided a couple paragraphs of summary down at the end, to pick out some of the most distinct patterns I have observed. If you are linking this post and need to condense it into a shorter summary, please make use of those paragraph in some way.Continue reading
Or, now that the clickbait title has got your attention, let me make that a claim with a little more nuance: to say that “queerplatonic is an aro term” is a statement that, if it is made, deserves to be qualified. And I’ll explain why.
[Note: this post has been crossposted to Pillowfort. Updated 3/8/19.]Continue reading
Yeah my attention span is zip right now so I didn’t read all of this, but, uh, I’ve been feeling a lot of this again lately. Excerpt:
I’m also at a point in my life when most of my friends are partnered while I remain singled. I have never felt incomplete or alone without a romantic partner, but I am beginning to feel particularly singled. When I think about the benefits of romantic partnerships as exhibited both in popular culture and my own observations via my friends’ romances, I recognize that these benefits are not purely financial or physical. They are about daily and mundane interpersonal interactions of reciprocity. In short: investment, and care.
Thing is. Over the span of however much time, ranging from months to minutes from instance to instance, my thoughts keep cycling through this sort of general feedback loop that’s like… I should try to accept the fact that, realistically speaking, dating is just not viable for me… I should just stick to making friends and maintaining friendships… which I focus on, up until I start getting jealous because people are prioritizing other people ahead of me… which I can’t get mad at them for, it’s just that I’m reminded that I want to be someone’s someone that they prioritize ahead of everyone else, I want to be that important to someone, I want to be the one who comes first, and do the same for them… and the one other primary constant, that I observe, in the relationships that evoke these I-want-that feelings, seems to be sex and romance… and so I think to myself, if that’s what I want, then realistically, it can only be attained by dating someone… so I should try to get into dating… and but wait, no, here are all these reasons why dating is just not viable for me…
I feel lied to.
I had heard, from sources I don’t remember, never to move in with people you consider friends. I don’t know how widespread this advice is, but it’s definitely a thing that I’d heard and was on my mind, right at the time that a friend asked to become my roommate, several years ago. And so it became the cause for hesitation and ambivalence.
Because what I’d heard was: don’t move in with your friends. You don’t want your friends as roommates. Just because you’re friends doesn’t mean you’ll live well together. You’ll end up annoying each other in petty roommate ways and it will destroy your friendship.
I didn’t want to destroy my friendship.
I was terrified of that happening.
So I dragged my feet and thought about declining what ended up being a really, really, really good deal.
Here’s my experience: moving in with my friend didn’t destroy my friendship. It made every night feel like a sleepover party.
As of the end of last month, I’ve done it again — moved in with another friend. I was worried about it this time, too.
I guess that advice has really stuck in my mind.
I even saw someone giving the same advice this week.
You know what I realized, though? Not once, ever, have I ever seen someone say, “Don’t move in with your romantic partner. It will destroy your relationship.”
What I see, sometimes, instead, is talk of “when” is the “right time,” the right stage, the right passage of time before it makes sense for two romantic partners to move in together. When. Not if. And certainly not “never.”
I’ve seen talk of moving in before getting married being potentially detrimental, but blanket generalizations of “never”? Never seen it.
It’s accepted to warn people of the dangers of moving in with friends — yet also believe those dangers dissipate in the case of romance.
I feel lied to.
Group reproduction – both biological and social – is fundamental to nationalist practice, process, and politics. While virtually all feminist treatments of nationalism recognize this fact, they typically take for granted that group reproduction is heterosexist. I refer here to the assumption – institutionalized in state-based orders through legal and ideological codifications and naturalized by reference to the binary of male-female sex difference – that heterosexuality is the only “normal” mode of sexual identity, sexual practice, and social relations. Heterosexism presupposes a binary coding of polarized and hierarchical male/masculine and female/feminine identities (ostensibly based on a dichotomy of biophysical features) and denies all but heterosexual coupling as the basis of sexual intimacy, family life, and group reproduction. And heterosexism is key to nationalism because today’s state-centric nationalisms (the focus of this chapter) not only engage in sexist practices that are now well documented by feminists, but also take for granted heterosexist sex/gender identities and forms of group reproduction that underpin sexism but which are not typically interrogated even in feminist critiques.
[…] Heterosexism as sex/affect involves the normalization of exclusively heterosexual desire, intimacy, and family life. Historically, this normalization is inextricable from the state’s interest in regulating sexual reproduction, undertaken primarily through controlling women’s bodies, policing sexual activities, and instituting the heteropatriarchal family/household as the basic socio-economic unit. This normalization entails constructions of gender identity and hegemonic masculinity as heterosexual, with corollary interests in women’s bodies as objects of (male) sexual gratification and the means of ensuring group continuity.
–V. Spike Peterson, “Sexing political identities/nationalism as heterosexism,” Women, States, and Nationalism, p. 59-60
To display the falsity of the “natural” nuclear family, Michelle Barrett explored the many different forms that family takes in human societies by examining anthropoligical and historical works. “At an ideological level,” she wrote, “the bourgeoisie has certainly secured a hegemonic definition of family life: as ‘naturally’ based on close kinship, as properly organized through a male breadwinner with financially dependent wife and children, and as a haven of privacy beyond the realm of commerce and industry.” If we reject the ideological assertion that the state is merely protecting natural relationships, then we need to ask whose interests the family-household system embedded in twentieth-century American liberalism serves…
[…] The ability to create a privatized household depends on financial resources that are unavailable to many, particularly families that do not have a white, male wage-earner… Those who cannot satisfy the material prerequisites of family life do not create the same kind of privatized units as those of the more economically privileged…
[…] Although the contractually agreed-to marriages of today may seem like a significant advance over the pre-arranged, clearly economic arrangements made for many men and women in the past, this understanding presupposes that monogamous, dyadic sexual relationships should have higher status and receive greater benefits than other forms of relationships. This superiority is asserted often through a variety of disciplinary mechanisms, including mental health experts, the media, schools, religious institutions, and the law. In this sense, marriage itself can — and should — be understood as a disciplinary system…
–Valerie Lehr, Queer Family Values, p. 19, 20, 23