On the infantilisation of women in heterosexual constructs of romance
Idealised performances of gender heavily guide our expectations and desires within heterosexual romance. Though it’s been tweaked, to be sure, we believe in the same old script of traditional gender roles: the gallantly enlarged male figure and the protected, softened female counterpart. Male acts of service are signals that draw us into the script, then it’s our turn to blush, maybe even giggle, and graciously accept the gesture, thereby sparking the emotional and sexual dialogue of masculine and feminine roles. At the core of the dynamic is an imbalance of power; the feminine role is to passively receive. Can our subscription, then, to these traditional gendered expectations coexist with our belief in equal rights and equal authority within relationships? Is chivalry inherently misogynistic? It’s a cloudy topic of discussion.
On a first date, there seem to be more pressing issues: Is he snapping at the waiter? Sliding racist jokes? Launching into an uninterrupted rant of why his three-year-long relationship blew up last week? A considerate, well-mannered guy seems to be a rare find—one to claw at, even. To want the door held open, the first date paid for, and the seat on the subway kindly offered: How could it be a bad thing to be attracted to kindness and decency? Dissecting these behavioural patterns on a deeper level seems unnecessary. The problematic, outdated premises of traditional gender roles, such as the lack of women’s rights and autonomy, and the now-ugly phrase “male dominance” have long been rejected and eliminated from the picture.
Narratives defensive of gendered romantic roles often emphasise the woman’s willing choice to accept male interference. It’s not that we /need/ things to be done for us, but that it would be nice if they were. It’s not that we are incapable of paying or carrying our bags, but that it is flattering to have someone do it for us. But is this not just a convenient reframing of a relinquishment of our capable, self-sufficient selves? It’s worth asking: /Why/ do we need to sell ourselves as incapable and passive? I, for one, can’t quite imagine the answer to that question as being independent from the patriarchal repression of female power and self-assertion. Whether it’s consequential enough to warrant condemnation or not, it /is/ contradictory to reject externally imposed passivity as an individual, and simultaneously seek a passive identity in order to be desired romantically. Thus, the seemingly harmless narrative of chivalry prompts women to self-inflict the infantilising narrative of being incompetent and weak.
Even if the attraction to masculine chivalry feels unrelated to the active endorsement of this infantilising narrative, these gendered dynamics can be interpreted as deeply solidified mechanisms of such ideas. Returning to the idea of gendered romantic roles as a script, the script itself is glorified, becoming a subject of desire in itself, not just a mere mode of pursuing romantic desires. The images of feminine and masculine roles exist as sexually charged archetypes, holding allure not only for the opposite gender but for the performers themselves. Adopting a ‘more feminine’ persona is part of the erotic experience, perhaps just as much as interacting with the masculine counterpart. Media representations that have been internalised and glamorised since childhood have helped construct such vivid templates of romantic femininity, and we continue to uphold those prescriptive traits—with a willingness that can be confusing to us at times. More soft, higher-pitched laughter; more—somewhat guilty—enjoyment of feeling delicate and protected; more shrinking.
Of course, real relationships aren’t so two-dimensional. Gendered performances do not comprise the entirety of romantic connection, and these expectations are perhaps more prominent between strangers who are situated in a romantic context with no other bearings to each other. However, even as partners reach beyond these superficial archetypes, it’s worth questioning how these initial self-prescriptions influence the understanding and relationship between them. Built on the foundations of assumed female passivity, how are its equality and authenticity manipulated?
In her trending Vogue article, “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?” Chanté Joseph considers whether women are diminished by their participation in heterosexual relationships. The amount of discussion it sparked both online and between friends was, to me, an encouraging sign that women are becoming uncomfortable with subscribing to these old misogynistic scripts of romance. Joseph criticises the trending attitude for wanting to keep “the clout that comes with being partnered” yet being desperate to seem fashionable and “not appear so boyfriend-obsessed.” Nevertheless, if the trend is one that prompts women to reevaluate the deep-rooted misogyny of dating culture and reexamine the contradictory ideas they subscribe to, it’s one that I welcome.