Could We Talk About Relationships?

Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

— A Gray Space Reflection

“You are the sum of the five people you hang out with most.”

— Alux.com

I saw this quote again the other day — you know the one. It gets shared a lot in self-help circles, in Instagram carousels, in motivational reels from guys in suits sitting in Lamborghinis. It sounds wise at first. Measurable. Self-assured.

But then I thought:

If I don’t hang out with anyone… what does that make me?

A zero?

A ghost?

An undefined variable?

It’s strange how easily we assign worth to people by who they’re next to — as if your value exists only in relation to others. As if the only way to be someone is to be reflected back by someone else.

So maybe that’s where I’ll start this.

Not with answers.

But with a question:

Could we talk about relationships?

What I’ve Seen: Love by Fear, Not by Choice

A lot of the people I know didn’t fall into love — they fell into fear.

• Fear of being alone.
• Fear of being the last one single in the group.
• Fear of being left behind by people getting married, having kids, “moving on.”
• Some dated because the person they wanted wanted them back, and that felt rare. Others settled because they thought waiting for something better made them ungrateful.
• Some slept with people they didn’t really like just to feel something.

And when it all crashed and burned, they called it a “lesson.”

But sometimes it didn’t look like a lesson.

It looked like guilt. Shame. Emotional scars. Unspoken resentment. Children brought into situations where no one was ready. And people — both the leavers and the left — trying to claw their way back to some sense of self they lost trying to “belong” to someone else.

What Gets Projected Onto Me (That Isn’t Mine to Carry)

As an asexual woman, I’ve had people assume all kinds of things about me:

That I’m:

emotionally repressed, broken, lonely scared of intimacy, secretly gay, or just waiting for the “right” person to fix me.

And none of those assumptions had anything to do with me.

They were about them.

Their own fears. Their own confusion.

I had a coworker tell me that he, “didn’t want me to wake up at age 32, single, unhappy, and lonely.” We’re the same age, separated by months with him being older, and his words felt very specific.

I called him out on his words, that it sounds like he’s projecting his own fears onto me, and he never brought relationships up again.

It’s maddening to me with people’s opinions like that: Their discomfort with someone who isn’t playing the same game — who isn’t treating sex or relationships like the final boss level of life.

It’s hard to explain that I’m not “missing” something.

That I’m not holding out.

That I don’t need to be saved from myself.

The Anime That Got Me Thinking

I’ve been watching a show recently:

“There’s No Freaking Way I’ll Be Your Lover!”

It’s a yuri harem anime on the surface, but underneath the tropes, it dives into something deeper:

What’s the line between platonic love and romantic love?

What happens when someone wants closeness — but not romance?

In one scene, the main character asks a friend:

“Do you think there’s a difference between friends and a partner?”

And without skipping a beat, her friend replies:

“Romantic relationships are best known by if the person turns you on.”

That line caught me and the main character off guard— because it was so blunt, so sure of itself.

It made the answer feel easy. Obvious.

But then I asked myself:

If that’s the only difference… then how is that not just “friends with benefits”?

What separates love from lust?

And if a friendship holds emotional depth, loyalty, vulnerability, and time — what makes it “less than” a relationship without sex?

Why is physical desire the gold star we stamp on a bond and call it real?

Where I Stand: Somewhere in the Gray

I’ve never been in a relationship — and I used to feel , and made to feel, ashamed of that.

Not because I felt broken or unwanted…

but because people made me feel like that fact invalidated my ability to speak on love or connection.

As if watching people I care about suffer through toxic or empty relationships wasn’t enough evidence to say,

“Hey… maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

I’m not a relationship expert.

But I’ve witnessed a lot of people use each other to hide from themselves.

And I’ve seen what happens when we pretend sex equals intimacy, and loneliness equals failure.

The truth is, I don’t think romance is the only way people can feel fulfilled.

And I don’t think friendship is a lesser love.

Some of the most meaningful, healing, supportive bonds in my life have had nothing to do with desire, but were just as devastating when betrayed by someone we’ve chose to let into our life.

They had everything to do with presence. Care. Understanding. Even if they didn’t realize it when things fell apart.

So, Could We Talk About It?

Not about “just vibes.”

Not about rom-com tropes.

Not about timelines and expectations and who-should-do-what.

But the real stuff. The questions that don’t always have answers.

Like:

• Why do we feel behind if we’re not in a relationship?
• Why does being wanted sexually feel like a badge of worth?
• Why do we treat friendship like a stepping stone instead of a destination?
• Why do people project so much fear onto others who live differently?

And most of all:

Why does wanting something deeper than “just don’t be alone” feel so rare to find in others?

Closing the Loop (Not the Door)

I don’t know if I’ll ever be in a relationship.

I’m not against the idea — I’m just not willing to chase a fantasy that others sold me when I already know it doesn’t fit.

But I do want connection.

I want friendship that isn’t afraid of depth.

Conversations that don’t flinch at honesty.

Care that isn’t conditional on performance, or looks, or how well I can play a part I didn’t audition for.

If you’ve ever felt this way too, I hope you know —

you’re not broken. You’re not late. You’re not alone.

Maybe you’re just in a gray space like me.

And maybe gray spaces are where the most honest questions live.

What about you?

Have you ever been in a relationship that wasn’t really about love?

Or had a friendship that meant more than anything else — but didn’t “count” because it wasn’t romantic?

You don’t have to agree with everything I’ve written — but if something here stirred something in you, feel free to comment, share, like, subscribe, or sit quietly with me for a while.

Sharing, liking, subscribing might help others like us find their way to this little quiet, gray space of the internet.

This blog is a gray space. And gray spaces need voices, needs questions and reflection, not just answers.

Thank you.