The word “boyfriend” is the word that for my four years of sexually-active life has given me a great internal conflict. I am no longer convinced that this conflict is only my own, but that I am feeling what is a part of my generation’s crisis in language. The words we once used to relate to each other no longer make sense, and so on the words “boyfriend/girlfriend” I am declaring war. And like any good country at war I refuse to acknowledge its legitimacy, and when I see it I fire. Now I am searching for allies, because I see this word and the mindset surrounding it as not only a problem for me but for everyone. I am seeking to tear boyfriend/girlfriend down so that a better word might be found, one that I can use without feeling that I am doing a disservice to both myself and person (often people) I am describing.
So here it goes.
First, let’s define it.
Boyfriend/girlfriend: a fellow human you are currently boinking, often eating with one another before doing so in a ritualistic mating practice called a “date.”
Now, Five God-Awful Implications that Come from these Terms:
1) If you’re a girl and you have a friend that ya know, isn’t, then it must be sexual!
The term boyfriend/girlfriend drags along the implication that if you’re good friends with someone of the opposite gender, you guys are probably doing the dreaded “it” and/or are making plans to do the deed in the future. As a female who spends the majority of her time hanging with those of the more penilely inclined anatomy, I am sick and tired of fighting this implication.
Things I have to say:
“No, I was not enjoying a romantic evening with the man in the cowboy hat. Incidentally, that man is my father.”
“Yes, we are at a restaurant enjoying these enchiladas together, but I have little-to-no knowledge of his enchilada, if you know what I mean, nor he of mine.”
et fucking cetera.
2) It creates a hierarchy of personal relationships between people.
“No, Jimmy, Randolph is not my boyfriend, he’s just a friend.”
“No, Humphrey, Jenkinson is not my boyfriend, our relationship is strictly platonic.”
(sidenote: Plato would be horrified to figure out that all his philosophy in popular culture was condensed down into differentiating who we are or are not fucking.)
“No, Mrs. Obama, Lisa is not my girlfriend, we just share a mutual interest in nude tennis.“
Whether or not I am boinking any given individual should not decide the intensity/meaningfulness of our relationship. I have had romantic relationships with people I have not had sex with (and have had no particular interest in doing so) and I have had unromantic relationships with people I am (and have still had a meaningful relationship with them).
From the term boyfriend/girlfriend you get the inevitable hierarchy:
Ew.
3) Carries HETERONORMATIVE (wow I went this long without saying that word) assumptions.
As someone who sleeps with any person regardless of gender (known variously as a “bisexual”/”pansexual”/”whore”) I hate how when I say “boyfriend” vs. “girlfriend” it means two different things.
Example:
“Hey there, girlfriend! Cute outfit!”
“Hey there boyfriend! Want to get a joint bank account?”
Also the word is cutsy as fuck, making me think of teenyboppers in poodleskirts and not grown adults with romantic ties. If you’re young enough to be called a “girl” or a “boy” you probably shouldn’t be boinking anyway.
4) The corallary to “boyfriend/girlfriend” is the Ex.
Example:
Definition: ex: a person you were formally intercoursing, and for some reason have decided to stop. This person is generally regarded with fear and resentment, and is to be avoided at all costs.
Examples:
“Oh no, my ex is coming to town!”
“I was on Facebook stalking my ex the other day. How depressing!”
As someone who has managed to collect some gold-star exes, who I have a living relationship with, I find the whole “ex-___friend” thing to be pretty insulting. Which leads to my next point…
5) Reducing people to their sexual relationship with you is, ya know, bad.
Now I have a riddle for you. Two humans go into a room. These humans are under the agreed classification as “friends.” They leave the room and the term “friends” has ceased to apply.
What just happened?
Answer: they touched each others junk.
Drama! They have done the “it”, and can no longer address each other by the same nouns without leaving behind a trail of lies!
Luckily, here’s where hookup culture comes to the roaring rescue!
Human 1: omg Larry, I went to Delta Delta the other night and totally ended up hooking up with Human 2.
Larry: OMG you and Human 2 hooked up?!
Human 1: ikr? But it’s whatever, we were super drunk. I barely remember it!
Phew! Forgetfulness and meaninglessness aids us in our desire to preserve the social order. Now everyone can pretend to forget about it and the relationship is preserved. Human 1 and Human 2 now pretend not to remember touching each other’s junk, and can remain friends! Huzzah!
But what if they weren’t drunk? What now?
Two options remain:
1) Change nouns to boyfriend/girlfriend and continue rubbing uglies for an unspecified amount of time.
2) Sex terminated, ergo friendship terminated. Now Human 1 and Human 2 pretend not to notice each other in hallway/on campus/in the retirement home, etc.
My point with all of the above, is that when I’ve dated someone, I haven’t thought of them as my boyfriend, or girlfriend. I’ve thought of them as my Randolph, Sebastian, Eleanor, etc. and have had completely different relationships with each. And I’ve had sex with my friends and continued to think about them as my Gangulfus, Plantagenit, Glencora, etc. I’ve had romantic relationships with people I’ve never had sex with, and not thought of that relationship being unfinished/unfulfilled. Whether I have or have not fooled around with them is unrelated to their existence, even if it does change the nature of our particular relationship. But I don’t own them because of an act: they do not become more mine. And likewise, I do not become theirs.
I sometimes jokingly use the word “sexhuman” in conversation to describe the people I’ve had a sexual relationship with, because I find it so inherently ridiculous that I can no longer call that person a friend, that I own them for the act. I sometimes use the term “lover,” ridiculous like something draped in red satin, smelling of perfume in a Parisian flat on the Sienne. Sometimes I use the word “partner,” with it’s stale corporate texture, and its flash of John Wayne in my face.
But mostly, I use the word “friend”. My mother is not my mother because she birthed me, but because she raised me, just as my friend is not my friend because I talk to them, but because I love them. With every true friend I create a new world and a new love inside me, and each one is precious.
And in my head, I call this person, –this person whose name I’m thinking to myself– I call them my travel buddy. Because they are the person I’m traveling with at the moment, the person walking alongside me on the same road. And right now they walk not namelessly, but with only the name that is their own.
this is real this is fiction 