I have often burrowed my head in the tender crescent of a lover's shoulder the same way I reach for my laptop to play a film that reminds me of why I fall in love. Recently, through tired eyes, and yawns that are infectious, only to the weary 21 year-olds-who-think-they-are-profound-because-they-can-drink-Merlot-and-write-a-paper-but-sometimes-are-the-most-profound-people-you’ll-meet, I had a hushed and partly sleep deprived conversation on the Quad of Hobart and William Smith about the fact that I wasn’t seeing anyone that made me want to seek the tenderness of a lover I didn’t have (Aubrey Drake Graham Feel No Ways was played repeatedly on my way to my house), so I resorted to an equally exciting prospect; a late night viewing of Frances Ha.
As I threw on my tattered, oversized Hobart Dad t-shirt and crawled into bed, Frances Ha’s opening score and scene brightly drew me in, just as it did the first time I saw it. The difference with this viewing is that I didn’t know it was going to be the queer movie of my dreams that allowed me to articulate why romance among friends, specifically with women who love other women, is so important. The question that fluttered across my mind was, why is there a need to limit romance to sexual relationships? Love transcends all restrictive views of what relationships can and can’t be. As I watched the film that stole my heart two years ago, I saw my argument become clearly defined; romantic relationships don’t need to be defined by gender, how much sex you have (if any) with this said person, or what heteronormative concepts of “healthy” relationships society has imposed upon us all.
The most important part that my newfound Queer goggles painted for me when viewing this film is that I could see Frances and Sophie's relationship as it always was, two women who were in love. There is a beautiful way that their love is shown. Frances and Sophie never are sexually involved, yet sex isn't a necessary piece in the equation of defining a queer relationship.
Frances and Sophie are shown in montage form the beginning of the film, as the score swells and their characters backgrounds are shown as living with each other, doing almost everything together, they are normatively domestically situated in the sense that they eat together and sleep in the same bed together. Then there was a scene that made me pause it after I viewed it, and watch it again. Frances and Sophie are lying on the bed together, Frances staring with admiration and thought for what she is about to say.
“Frances: Tell me the story of us.
Sophie: Again? All right, Frances.
We are gonna take over the world.
Frances: You’ll be this awesomely
bitchy publishing mogul.
Sophie: And you'll be this famous
modern dancer… and I'll publish
a really expensive book about you.
Frances: That d-bags we make fun of
will put on their coffee tables.
Sophie: And we'll co-own a vacation apartment
in Paris. Frances: And we'll have lovers.
Sophie: And no children.
Frances:And we'll speak at college graduations.
Sophie: And honorary degrees.
Frances:So many honorary degrees..."
After viewing this scene a second, and then a third time, I became fully aware that I had my Sophie, and that I too was in love. As the movie progressed, my understanding that I was in an intimate relationship with someone who loved me and I loved back grew stronger, and because of my own skewed views of relationships from the heteronormative culture that surrounds our culture, I hadn’t allowed myself to receive and give the love that was trying to show me the tenderness I sought.
Frances tells this honest and heart-wrenching monologue at a dinner where she tells people what she wants.
"It's that thing when you're with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it... but it's a party... and you're both talking to other people, and you're laughing and shining... and you look across the room and catch each other's eyes... but - but not because you're possessive, or it's precisely sexual... but because... that is your person in this life. And it's funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it's this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It's sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don't have the ability to perceive them. That's - That's what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess."
Toward the end of the film, this dream becomes a reality as Frances sees Sophie across the room at her dance showcase and discovers that she has found her person in this life. I too have found that person.
I didn't need to be seeing someone in the conventional sense of what I had been told a relationship had to look like. I was already in one of the healthiest, strongest, and beautifully intimate relationships I had ever been in. The most intimate relationship was me being able to love and be loved by another woman who is my friend. Her name is Kim, and she is the person that I stay up late on the phone with until 3 a.m. She is the person I've danced with on the streets of New York City when she comes to visit me and she is the person I know I can hold next to me in my bed and ask her to tell me the story of us.
Romantic friendships are important. Queer love is important. Take your best friend out on a date, let her love you, be brave and fall in love with her too.
