QPRs are truly an analogous to Schrödinger's cat when it comes to relationships. They exist simultaneously as something that gets the ridicule and sneers of "So YoU MeAn BeStIeS", yet also as something unacceptable for friends to be and do: when the realization hits that the dynamic pretty much resembles romantic partners, people absolutely do not like what you're doing.
I never used the QPR word, or even tertiary attraction terminology, with my last relationship. That conversation was at best in diapers among English-speaking communities, both of us are ESL, and prevailing asexual discourse also discouraged me from exploring and learning for a very long time. We talked a lot about how we didn't feel anything romantic or sexual for each other, but we couldn't articulate what we were doing either, because it felt distinct from other friendships. What we knew was that we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives, so we just... Started to do that. And then we continued to do that, until certain circumstances happened.
And not labeling that relationship in a particular way didn't stop many people from constantly questioning why were we so affectionate, and committed to each other, when we "were not in a real relationship" and were "just friends". It just wasn't seen as acceptable, it wasn't how "friends" were supposed to behave. That commentary always came accompanied of some mention about internalized or societal homophobia, that we had to be lying when we said we weren't dating, that one or both of us had to be secretly hoping the relationship would eventually evolve into a "real one". Which felt bittersweet, because the lack of homophobia was appreciated, because growing up as a bisexual millennial was an horrendous experience, but ultimately... No one wanted to understand. At some point we decided to let this particular group of (left-leaning) friends believe that we were indeed dating. Our plan was, literally, "let's pretend-date for a while, and then we say we broke up amicably", a situation that ended up lasting for a few years. The very short summary really is that, on the face of the world, we were either super best buddies or boyfriends depending on the audience and what'd be less troublesome.
Some people will argue that the name is cringe, or that it shouldn't have the words "queer" or "platonic", or what have you. If I were to be honest, I myself don't have a particular attachment to the name "queerplatonic", and I use it post-facto because it's an umbrella and an easy way to communicate something in few words. But ultimately, I dare say that the name doesn't matter. That the problem has never been the name. The problem is that naming something makes it real. Changing the name would not make people accept it, because the only acceptable answers for society are "friend" or "lover", "platonic" or "romantic", and not something that's fundamentally both and neither of those things. Because ultimately, what's supposed to be normal is the prioritization of an exclusive, romantic, sexual, long-term relationship (and eventual marriage), and anything that falls outside of that norm will inevitably be scrutinized. And I'm sure that if I said something like "I love being someone's boyfriend without having to be someone's boyfriend", as codename for "I love having the things I like from a partnership without all the things I hate", that'd not be well received outside of specific aspec circles.
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
kianamaiart
ellievsbear
