Lessons learned: I’m no longer prioritizing romance

I’ve fallen in and out of love throughout my early 20s. My heart has been broken by boyfriends and best friends, but I’ve started to define love my own way. 

As a child, I was addicted to the idea of romantic love. I’d stay up late on weekends binging my favourite romance films. I was obsessed with 27 Dresses (2008) and 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), and I used to be able to recite Twilight (2008) line for line. Though friendship is a common theme throughout these films, it’s never the theme, so I grew up centring my life around the idea of romantic love, putting it far ahead of platonic love for years.

It wasn’t until the pandemic hit that my mindset toward love started to shift. I was in a relationship, but I didn’t feel loved. I was belittled for my “boring” interests and criticized for my bad mood. My anxiety worsened during that period, and he interpreted my panic attacks as an overreaction.

My pandemic relationship was a little less When Harry Met Sally (1989) and a lot more Blue Valentine (2010). I felt misunderstood and unloved, often wondering how I’d found myself in this relationship.

During that time, I’d fallen out of touch with many of my friends. I often ignored texts, and once the lockdown lifted, I began cancelling plans.

When my boyfriend and I inevitably ended things, I felt relieved, but alone. It wasn’t until a couple of months later, when I spent the summer tree planting, that I began feeling like myself again. I lived in a bush camp with friends I’d fallen out of touch with, and the act of forced socialization was a godsend. I was finally out of my head and living — strengthening bonds and forming new connections.

Living in a bush camp and planting trees will bring out your truest self. I felt free to be silly with my friends without worrying about how I was perceived. I stopped hiding my personality as I had with my ex.  

I swore off romantic relationships after that summer. I’d finally realized that as long as I had solid friends, everything would be fine. I’ve seen this translate throughout my life, particularly this September when I moved to Halifax.

I learned I was loved in Halifax the morning after Halloween. I was particularly hungover and sat on the couch while one of my roommates fed me blue Gatorade and the other ran to the pharmacy to pick up ibuprofen. I didn’t have to ask for either. 

Later, my friend bused with me to an appointment an hour away. I couldn’t skip it, but I didn’t think I could make it on my own, and their emotional support got me through the nausea. Another friend met us after and drove us home. Call me irresponsible for the night before, but the care and support I felt that day was palpable.

While I may not have had a partner to support me, I’d found a community that understood, and that was enough.

I’ve never felt more loved or seen than with my friends. I often tell them that if they were a man, I’d date them.

I sometimes find myself hiding parts of my personality when I’m interested in someone romantically. Not to be manipulative, but because I’m worried my personality won’t suffice. I never feel the need to put up a front with my friends. 

Maybe I have some personal issues to work on, but at least I know I’ll always have my friends to support me through it. Without them, I would never have learned I didn’t need to suffer in a shitty relationship. I didn’t need a boyfriend to be loved; I’m already loved by the kindest, funniest, most thoughtful people I could have in my life. I don’t need anything else.