I’m a couples therapist…and I read romance novels
By Kaitlyn Wernars, LMSW
The romance genre consistently leads book sales and consumption, with rapid growth starting early in the pandemic. Couples can have mixed views on these books, with some seeing them as a tool for connection, and others as obstacles that create unrealistic expectations and unattainable needs.
Romantic fiction isn't going anywhere: It's projected to remain at the top in annual book sales. What role can romance books play in individuals' and couples' ideas about love and relationships? And how can we address their potential pitfalls?
As an avid reader of romance and a couples therapist, the answers to these questions can be delicate and nuanced.
Marginalized relationships have representation in this genre. Identity is explored with curiosity and intrigue.
Books coming out today don’t solely focus on monogamous and heteronormative relationships. Take Atonement of the Spine Cleaver by F.E. Bryce: The book starts by celebrating Jia Frostguard and Volla Torvik’s relationship, an openly lesbian couple in a world where same-sex relationships are widely accepted. Queer and poly relationships are shown as normal and safe, and sexuality or choice of relationship structure can exist without fear or even novelty.
These depictions can be beneficial in contrast to other media that depicts queer and non-monogamous relationships being dominated by struggle and trauma. For individuals who have faced these challenges in their own lives, positive and normative stories about queer and poly relationships can be a source of optimism and self-acceptance.
Sex isn’t scary (most of the time) in this genre.
Talking about sex can be daunting in a relationship at any stage. A lot of people have been taught that sex is meant to be spoken about in whispers and metaphors. Having direct conversations about sex can be hard, so they just avoid it. I’ve heard couples say “Our relationship is falling apart because we don’t connect on a sexual level,” and my questions to them are: “well, do you talk about sex, or just the lack of sex? What are your partner’s needs?”
Couples often avoid these conversations because they don’t know how to communicate about sex. The romance genre normalizes expressing your sexual needs. Maybe you didn’t realize that initiating sex doesn’t have to be one-sided, or maybe you assumed that your relationship roles had to be the same both in and out of the bedroom. In Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating by Christina Lauren, Hazel can openly communicate without feeling like she has to be subtle. Josh is more reserved, but rather than letting this create a lack of intimacy, Hazel directly initiates sex. Readers get a clear example of the role open sexual expression plays in a fulfilling relationship.
Healthy communication is pivotal to a successful relationship, but romance novels love drama.
Someone reading Onyx Storm by Rebecca Yarros might ask, “Why doesn’t Xaden just talk to Violet instead of brooding and running away?” One answer is that the book would be half the length. Still, it can be hard not to get stuck on the fact that so much stress and disconnection would be avoided if he just told her his fears. Maybe the author could have given Violet a mind reading ability. That’s the thing: your partner(s) cannot read your mind. They can maybe assume, but their assumption could be wrong, leaving you even more disappointed because they don’t have that superpower. The frustrating communication struggles of fictional couples can be a tool for identifying cycles of assumptions and miscommunication in real relationships. Rather than driving people to seek drama of their own, romance books can hold up a mirror (sometimes exaggerated) that supports self-awareness.
Telling the person or people you love your fears is terrifying, but necessary to strengthen the relationship. Telling them that you’re afraid of being alone when they’re distant rather than icing them out can lead somewhere, breaking down those walls we build while defensive and allowing our person or people to show up. This plays out in the book First-Time Caller by B.K. Borison, where radio host Aiden Valentine spends most of the story scared to fail at love, and even more afraid to admit this to his potential partner, Lucie. Once he finds the courage to explain his fear, the couple can work together to prevent it from being a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Another criticism of this genre is that the relationships never sound “real enough” to apply to real life, or that they can create expectations based in fantasy. I’d reframe this as a way to bring creativity and adventure into relationships.
A Court of Thorns and Roses,Fourth Wing, and many other fantasy romance books show couples embarking on thrilling and sometimes dangerous adventures to save the world, deepening their relationships. Even in non-fantasy romance, the characters take on larger-than-life goals and conflicts.
Yes, we probably will never develop shadow powers and learn how to teleport to different realms purely to go on dates. But curiosity and bravery are arguably the most extraordinary powers in human relationships. There is fantasy in mapping out a life with your person or people. There is wonder every time you overcome obstacles and grow through the dense weeds of life. Choosing to take each step in your relationship with a willingness to wholeheartedly witness your person or people is, quite simply, magical.
