Aromantic Exclusion as a Consequence of Amatonormative Fiction
A lot of times people (alloros, usually) create these elaborate systems of worldbuilding that promote complex relationships and lead to a unique storytelling platform. And that’s great! But the thing is, when the concept is based on an idea of universal experiences, especially attraction, there will always be someone who’s excluded.
If you’re familiar with discourse around aromanticism in fandom spaces, you probably know where I’m headed with this. While being specifically geared towards the experiences of a certain group isn’t by definition undesirable, it does lead to comprehensive exclusion of those who do belong within a space. One of the clearest examples of this exclusion occurs with the idea of “soulmates” and specifically “Soulmate AU” fanfiction. The essential premise is that everyone, or usually at least every human/angel/[species that the canon focuses on], has a person (or sometimes multiple people) who they’re destined/fated/magically compelled to have a long-term romantic & sexual relationship with. Obviously this leads to the possibility of being paired off with someone you hate, but plenty of authors have explored that option (although rarely without the relationship working out a hundred thousand words later). The reason this premise is so troubling is that, as written, it leaves no room to opt out of the system.
See, the main issue here isn’t just about it being specifically romantic. As alloros love to mention, “soulmates can be platonic!” (I’ll discuss why this is problematic later.) The first thing that most people fail to grasp is that we don’t have any issue with other people doing romantic stuff with each other. However, when the choice is taken away and it becomes a requirement, we lose the ability to remove ourselves from a system that is at best hostile — and often is actively harmful. Forcing anyone to participate in a relationship hierarchy, especially when their autonomy is violated in the process, serves to reinforce amatonormative ideals, even if you rebrand it as “platonic” soulmates (which are still implied or stated to be more important than platonic non-soulmates, family, mentors, or any other relationships). Because let’s face it: exclusive, long-term, platonic relationships which are more important than other relationships? That’s effectively equivalent to exclusive, long-term, romantic relationships except you aren’t calling it romance. It’s still forcing people to participate in a system that is broken for them.
I’m not going to get into the nuances of how soulmate AUs often portray unhealthy relationship dynamics in a favorable light. (Because obviously you can’t end the relationship, so it must be love, because of course there’s no way that soulmates can actually hurt each other. /sarcasm.) The fact of the matter is that no matter how pleasant and loving the relationships are, they’re still being forced on everyone, and even in those versions where some people are “missing” a soulmate, it’s seen as something deserving of pity. This, of course, is a clear reflection of amatonormativity — even ignoring the frequency with which this lack ends up being “fixed” by the end of the story.
“But why is fiction being an accurate reflection of the real world bad,” one might ask. And it would be the case that it is not bad per se, but not being “bad” doesn’t mean no harm is caused. See, it’s typically a lot easier for an individual writer to change their worldbuilding than for an individual person to make the same change in the real world. This is doubly true for societal issues; and so by mimicking a facet of society that causes such harm. While I firmly believe that no topics should be outright forbidden, it is important to be conscientious and intentional about how your words will affect others.
None of this would matter nearly as much if this final piece wasn’t in play. As I mentioned earlier, one of the most common reactions to being called out on amatonormative worldbuilding is that “soulmates can be platonic!” Rather than asking what the specific problem(s) are, they assume that the only issue is the actual label applied to it. This instinctual, defensive response shows that for most writers, there is no interest in changing the underlying structure which causes the problem. Instead, they want to apply a new paint job, a fresh outfit, a shiny new cover, to the same endlessly recurring issue. This lack of foresight shows that writers tend to not consider aromantic experiences when setting up their worldbuilding, and no amount of “platonic soulmates” can fix that. So no, I don’t like the idea of soulmates. Or amatonormativity, but honestly, by now the first has become a symbol of the latter.
