Bromance is one of those relatively new, made-up mash-up words that I just cannot get on board with. For the uninitiated, the term implies a close but non-sexual relationship/friendship between two or more men. The term has become particularly popular in Hollywood, where movies like I Love You, Man have become a mainstay of brainless summer popcorn siestas.
My problem with the term is twofold.
First, there is the way it sounds: bromance. A pseudo-clever combination of “bro” and “romance.” By its definition, bromance has nothing to do with romance, and I was never crazy about the term “bro” to begin with.
My second issue with this word is more complicated. Allow me to explain, and potentially digress:
I Love You, Man is a comedy about a guy who’s getting married, but does not have a close male friend that he could ask to be his best man. He ends up intentionally seeking a friendship with another man; the trouble is, he’s not very experienced when it comes to relating to other men, so he has a hard time of it. The plot struck a certain chord with me, because I’ve always had a difficult time forming and maintaining friendships with guys.
Unfortunately, the movie was uncomfortable for me to watch. In the recent years, with titles like I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry, Hollywood has made a cash cow out of the assumed awkwardness of close male friendships. The undertone in these types of movies suggests that men, in general, have a difficult time relating to one another in a close, [slider title="homosocial"]homosocial = non-sexual relationship (friendship) with member(s) of the same gender[/slider] relationship. This can undoubtedly be true, but not usually for the reasons these comedies would want you to believe.
The universal assumption these days seems to be that men have a difficult time expressing their feelings for one another because of some idiotic notion of not wanting to appear the least bit “gay.” I honestly think we have, as a society, extracted all the juice out of the whole homophobia concept, and that it is now time to move on to being afraid of some other abstraction.
I’m not going to go on a tirade here about the social pussification project our society has well under way for young modern men – that’s a story for another day. I will, however, suggest that men do know how to communicate with one another; they do know how to express themselves in a homosocial relationship; and they do it all the time if you just leave them well enough alone.
My father-in-law and I are very different people, culturally, politically, and in many other ways. However, in addition to our love for computers, technology, and science fiction, we find a common ground because we’re guys. There are fundamental similarities built into us that allow us to communicate the way men do, and I object to the idea that somehow this isn’t enough.
Bromance suggests that there is an uncomfortable vacuum that exists between close male friends, one that they cannot fill or remove because of some misguided notion of homophobia. It is that very sense of discomfort that these comedies like I Love You, Man play on, because it is supposedly funny. We like to watch other people feeling awkward, and what’s more awkward than male friends who share a platonic affection and have no way of verbifying it. Right?
Here’s the thing: the reason we (as in guys) don’t end our phone calls to our buddies with “love you, bro” is not because of homophobia; we don’t say it because it doesn’t need to be said, and it serves no purpose to say it. If my close male buddy doesn’t know I love him, it’s not because I’m too homophobic to let him know – it’s because I’m a crappy friend.
My wife and I watched I Love You, Man together and had a few laughs. I think she enjoyed the movie more than I did; I spent most of my time feeling awkward and embarrassed for the characters. Not because their behaviour was “so gay,” but because it felt like they were catering to some nondescript fallacy of how women think men should relate.
What does this have to do with my objection to bromance? To me, the term is just an epitome of sexism made a-okay through the use of humour. The use of the term bromance as a description does not – to me – strengthen or underline the depth of a close male friendship; it debases and weakens the perception of it.
If men don’t profess their platonic love for one another, it’s not because we have a difficult time of it – it’s because we don’t need to.
Mika Salakka is a Finn living in the United States. He is a nursing assistant, a creative writer, a devoted husband, and an observer of the human condition. His interests range from music and literature to psychology, sociology, medicine, technology, and spirituality.
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You know, Mika, I agree with you for the most part. There’s so much fear in our society about men expressing anything in the way of true feelings, and it’s a load of bull.
But I think of my two best friends…we’ve cried together, we’ve hugged each other, and we’ve said, “Love you, bro” more times than I can count. I exchange such a sentiment with one of the two most times we talk. Sometimes we even say it after an array of text messages. The other one doesn’t say it back, most of the time, but I know the feeling’s there.
So why say it if it’s so unnecessary? For me, it’s exactly BECAUSE that’s such a “problem” for so many others.
These are men who are brothers to me in every sense of the word other than shared DNA. I tell my mom and dad that I love them. If I had a sister, I’d tell her. Since I’ve got these guys in my life who are brothers to me, I don’t worry about telling them, even though they already know it.
Absolutely. I agree with you. I don’t think telling another guy you love them is unnecessary by default, although my rant may have carried that message. I think my problem is simply with the notion that a friendship between two guys in which these sentiments are not verbalized is somehow inhibited and “less than it could be.” I think there are friendships in which those words aren’t verbalized because they are communicated in other ways quite sufficiently, and then there are friendships in which they aren’t verbalized, yet ought to be.
To be honest, I’m not sure why I feel so strongly about this. I guess all it takes is one hint of misandry – if only in my own mind – for me to be ready to fly off the handle.