When I was in year 8, I read my first book with romance in it. I was captivated. It was called Seventh Grade Tango, and I loved it so much I read it through twice back to back. When the two main characters kissed, right at the end, I felt something I’d never felt before that moment, a longing for a relationship.
Mind you, I was 13, maybe 14 at the time, yet that longing began to stir. In the years following, I encountered other romance novels, mostly Amish fiction and Christian romance. Each with a similar plotline: girl prays about meeting the perfect boy, girl and boy meet, something gets in their way, through lots of prayer they get together in the end for a thoroughly Christian happily ever after.
But as time went on, I began to hear a whisper. I don’t even know where it came from. Maybe it was church and sabbath school. Maybe it was chapel and vespers at school. Maybe it was the relationship books my mum bought for me once I hit high school. The whisper said, ‘Romance novels and chick flicks are unrealistic. They set you up for disaster in your relationships because you get unrealistic expectations.’
Some voices even went so far as to compare romance novels to the female version of pornography (a stance I seriously take issue with, but that’s another story). Wherever the message came from, it reached its destination in my heart. I began to avoid romance novels and scorn chick flicks, afraid that they would destroy my future relationships.
I refused to read books from the Young Adult section at the library. When my American friends insisted on showing me a Hallmark Christmas movie (the American gold standard for sappy romance and a Christmas staple) I spent the entire movie criticizing it, cringing at the romance, making jabs at the unreality it presented.
I became a bit jaded and cynical about romance stories in general, convinced that real romance couldn’t be as good as it was in the movies because obviously, those were unrealistic. I carried that mindset through high school and a significant amount of college. I hadn’t had an actual relationship, but I’d kept myself safe from those dangerous unrealistic expectations. But then I met Josh.
After several years of getting to know guys, although never dating them because of one deal-breaker or another, Josh, finally, felt right in a way no other had before. Suddenly, I found myself in the reality of new romance, the reality of all the romance stories I’d been avoiding, and it was amazing.
True to character, though, I did my best to downplay it all. I fought to stay objective, to avoid the dreaded rose-coloured glasses. I obsessed and fretted about the end of the honeymoon phase, terrified of what would happen after it wore off. Now, more than a year and a half after we began dating, I can attest, yes, those romance novels and chick flicks are unrealistic, and yes, the honeymoon phase wears off. But, contrary to my expectations, neither of those events are a bad thing.
What romance stories get so wrong about relationships is that they completely overlook the amazing, deep friendship that develops when people date for a long time. Where the butterflies fade, the depth of friendship rises up to fill the deficit. What’s unrealistic about romance stories is that they assume that the first stage is what sticks around. But what all the messages condemning these unrealistic expectations forget to mention is that relationships beyond that phase can be even better.
The butterflies were nice but shallow. They don’t stick around forever, true, but that doesn’t matter because the love is deeper and stronger than before. The joy of seeing each other is still there. There is so much beauty in being able to know the other’s coffee order, to be able to predict what the other person is going to say, to know you don’t have to put on makeup to be beautiful to them, to love all the little moments in between. Now, with this experience of a relationship, all the fairy tales seem shallow and empty to me, deprived of that amazing connection and friendship that is possible in a relationship.
The movies were definitely wrong in their portrayal of relationships, but the critics were also wrong: they tore down the picture the stories show without discussing the alternative. Reinforcing that what’s in the movies is the best part of a relationship and you need to be prepared for the fact that after that, it all goes downhill. That’s not true.
The best part of a relationship is when you know someone so well, all fear, doubt, anxiety is gone. It’s having a best friend, someone who feels like home. If they’re the right person for you, the joy remains. The love gets deeper. The awesomeness intensifies as you share more and more of your life. That’s a very realistic expectation to have. And it’s better than any chick flick or fairytale.
WRITER: Caitlin Jankiewicz