Hey, I'm acearo (romance repulsed) and i was looking through your blog and i kind of thought that expressing your disgust about romance would kind of accidentally insult some people. Especially people really happy and in a relationship? Bashing that would seriously suck, especially if its something that makes them happy. I don't know, I just thought the 'expressing that repulsion is okay' kind of seemed iffy to me. Anyways I love your blog and all, that little thing was just bothering me.
okay so, i understand your concern and i appreciate that you’re not saying this in an attacking manner.
but the thing is, romance is literally everywhere. it is literally shoved down our throats every. living. second. romance is the number one focus in movies, tv shows, books, every form of entertainment and media. even in things where romance is 100% unnecessary and unimportant, it’s still added because society believes that romance should be your priority in life. society literally tells us that we need romance in our lives, or else there’s no point. if we don’t have romantic partners, society sees us as worthless, boring, abnormal.
at the end of the day, the amount of people complaining about romance is nothing compared to all the people that praise romance. couples are always going to be much more praised than shunned for their romance (obviously this mostly applies to straight couples, but you get my point).
unless society acknowledges our existence and decides to respect us, romance is always going to be considered the number one goal in life. because of everything that society has taught me, the idea that i need to find romance to be happy is deeply ingrained into me. and that just makes my repulsion worse. this is so harmful for me. it affects me every second, every minute, every hour, every day of my life. there is literally not a single day that goes by when i don’t see or hear about romance. i’m not even going to tell you just how much stress this gives me, and how horribly it affects my mental health.
when i express my disgust/discomfort about romance, i’m not trying to shun couples for being happy. i’m not trying to say that their love is gross and ugly. i would never outright tell a couple that they’re disgusting for showing pda, of course that would be wrong and downright rude.
when i complain about romance, i’m complaining about everyone and everything shoving it down my throat nonstop. i’m complaining about couples that purposely show pda to make the people around them uncomfortable, because they think it’s funny to mock people who have serious repulsion and trauma over romance. the people who have anxiety and panic attacks over romance.
i know there are many people like me, which is why i created this blog in the first place. it’s supposed to be a safe space for us to express our dislike for romance without having to explode in front of the actual romance. i made this blog so that people who have kept it bottled in for so long can finally let it out. i made this blog so that people who felt broken or disgusting for their repulsion could feel like they are okay, and that there’s nothing wrong with them.
if you don’t want to express your romance repulsion, that’s fine, but let the rest of us that do have this space. it’s one of the only things we have. there is romance scattered everywhere else, and we have literally no escape from it. don’t take this away from us too.
big boob problem number 372: you can’t lay down in a comfy position without murdering at least one of your titties. on your side? one is smoosh. your stomach? both smoosh. your back? no smoosh but that’s just uncomfortable
Throughout the entire ordeal, Arin knew he should have been feeling better. He knew that walking in through the door of his house after a week, although on wobbly knees, should have perked him instantly up.
But the poor man was a bit beyond drained. His memory was still cloudy, he was still fumbly, and there was an ache in his chest. People expected him to be better. They thought this would push him through to get help. They thought this would be the end all, be all of his troubles.
And under such expectation, Arin didn’t know what to do with himself but sit silently on the couch, tug his hand through his hair, and yawn. Maybe it was the strain on his head, or the physical healing he still had to do, but Arin was so tired that he couldn’t sleep.
He glanced toward the TV, and then his dying phone, and back to the kitchen, before he sighed gently, and dropped his head back against the cushions.
I used to have this tiny, neat, printed handwriting and now I have this sloppy bastardization of my own form of cursive (which is frighteningly consistent in style- I jotted down this same note twice and the connecting letters are all the same it’s quite interesting tbh time to start that handwriting discourse)
all summer a bunch of my “friends” kept hittimg me up with the “imy” & “when can we chill?” so I made time for them so we could hang out & then they hit me back with that “I’m broke”, “I’m too busy” or “I’m working” & then these same people are out here snapping themselves partying & whatever the fuck else so from now on I don’t have any friends & I’m also “too busy” because I’m tired of being kind and considerate to these fake fucks smh