Freshman Files: The beauty of ambiguity in romantic relationships

Since publishing an article about freshman year situationships, I was surprised to have a few people reach out to me and seek out my advice about their relationships.

Though I was honored that they’d turned to me for help, I hoped that a sympathetic smile, some nods and gentle reassurance that “things will work out” would suffice. Truth is: I didn’t know what to tell them. Writing an article about my experience didn’t turn me into a relationship expert.

But, did I need to be a relationship expert to give good relationship advice? What if there were pressing thoughts about relationships that I had to share?

My eagerness to understand what “good relationship advice” meant led me to Rose Hills Theatre on Feb. 13 to hear renowned author Christine Emba talk about romantic connection. One of the main topics she touched on was consent. Emba talked about how a relationship primarily built on consent was not enough and how we should rethink our approach to consent.

While I thought Emba’s thoughts on consent were pretty obvious, some of my friends who went with me to the talk thought they were groundbreaking and provocative.

At that moment, I realized that I do have something to say about relationships.

After Emba’s talk, I was reminded of the beginning of my freshman year when, in addition to fulfilling a mandatory online module entitled “Sexual Assault Prevention Training,” we had a mandatory orientation session about consent and Title IX.

Now, don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way. Every college must have some sort of orientation about what to do in a sexual harassment or assault situation and how to make use of Title IX. Sexual discrimination and violence are some of the most heinous and terrifying crimes in the world.

Having said that, this Title IX session was one of the most bizarre moments I’ve ever had since coming to Pomona.

We were playing Kahoot — that whimsical song was playing while we were answering questions about sexual assault — and the following question came up:

If you are making out with a guy and he asks you if he can take off his shirt and you want him to take off his shirt, which of these should you do?

1. Smile and nod
2. Say “Yes”
3. Say “No”
4. Say “Hell yeah, I thought you’d never ask!”

My first thought was that it is insane that there’s a “right answer” in that situation. But I tried to tackle the Kahoot pragmatically, to click the answer the orientation leaders were expecting rather than the answer that felt like a better fit for me. So I ignored my instincts to click a, which was curiously a popular choice amongst my fellow international friends, and went for b. It was straightforward and seemed right enough.

I was surprised to see my phone screen turn bright red, indicating that my “safe answer” was wrong. The right answer, the main screen showed, was letter d) Say “Hell yeah, I thought you’d never ask!” The reason for it was an annoying concept called “enthusiastic yes.”

The concept works in theory — it emphasizes the presence of “yes” rather than the absence of “no.” But different people consent to things differently. You’d never catch me telling a guy, “Hell yeah, I thought you’d never ask me if you could take off your shirt!” and if someone ever told me that, I’d probably feel the urge to put a jacket on. Why? Because there’s no charm, no mystery, no seduction, nothing!

A friend once told me that I’m constantly asking “why?” and that I get distressed when I can’t get to the bottom of something. But recently I’ve grown fond of the ambiguity of relationships. I like the moments before someone makes a move, when you attempt to be subtle enough to be cool, but not too subtle to the point that it seems like you don’t care at all. I like to feel all guarded and distant, and little by little inch closer to someone, letting them into my world and becoming a part of theirs.

I like that until something happens, you can’t know for sure if the other person is onboard with what you’re thinking. And as time goes by, you learn that sometimes they are, sometimes they’re not. Sometimes they thought they were, but they weren’t. It’s hard to understand where our desires lay. That’s another problem I have with “enthusiastic yes”: It’s okay to enter something not with a full-fledged “yes” but with a wholehearted “maybe.” As long as you feel safe that if that “maybe” becomes a “no,” you can stop.

You’re not being a bad person or automatically hurting your partner if you’re not completely sure of what you hope to get. It’s okay to enjoy romance for the sake of romance — a boundless, pure romance is already so beautiful. Not every kiss leads to a make-out session; not every hook-up leads to a relationship. Romantic encounters aren’t logical and linear like that. 

Even if something does happen, you still don’t know what the other person’s thinking. You never can. So you need to pay attention; pick up on cues and try your best — that is, if you actually care for the other person (which you should; don’t be an asshole) and see beyond yourself. 

“Enthusiastic yes,” though, focuses too much on verbal consent and overshadows surrounding non-verbal cues. A person can give you a yes, and still tense up when you get closer to them. Just like people have different ways of saying “yes,” people have multiple ways of saying “no.”

Ambiguity is not a bad thing. It makes you curious to learn more about someone and reminds you that relationships are adventurous, romantic connection is bewitching and dialogue is mystical.

But since ambiguity is not easy to navigate, we quickly give up on any attempt to do so. Some people try to extinguish it completely by giving their partners ultimatums and establishing labels. Come to think about it, “situationship” is simply our way of labeling a relationship that can’t be easily labeled. For some people, that works. Labels are helpful, practical and comforting. But I think there’s something valuable in slowly meeting someone and taking your time to know them, no pressure to name every single thing.

Still, the people who label are better than those who take advantage of ambiguity and use it to justify sexual violence. These people don’t want to flirt or get to know someone. In fact, they don’t care about their partner at all. All they care about is power and control. They taint the magic of ambiguity and make all of us more skeptical and disconnected from any possible romance.

So if there’s any advice you can take from this botched relationship guru is this: Look ambiguity in the face and don’t be scared. Have faith in your partner and, most importantly, have faith in yourself. There’s nothing wrong with entering something we don’t fully understand — does anyone even know what love or desire are, anyway?

Anna Ripper Naigeborin PO ’28 is from São Paulo, Brazil. Her favorite rom-com is “27 Dresses,” and she’ll defend Jane to the end of time.