On taste, romantasy, thought, and nuance

Everyone has an opinion—and I might not actually care about yours? (Alternatively: I have a lot of thoughts about Fourth Wing.)

I can let people enjoy things—let myself enjoy things!—while still thinking critically about how my consumption habits affect who I am.

This morning I told a friend I think one of his favorite movies is boring.

“I don’t care,” he declared. And we moved right on.

My past self would have worried this interaction was callous, but trust me: It wasn’t. My friend was not saying “I don’t care about you” or even “I don’t care about your opinions overall”. He was simply saying he did not care if I was a fan of this specific film he loved, because his love for it exists independently of other people’s takes. No defensiveness, no justification, no only-one-of-us-can-be-right¹ tension.

It took me decades to grow comfortable with this response to low-stakes² opinions. I’m reminded of CJ Hauser’s “Hepburn Qua Hepburn” essay in The Crane Wife: “the reality is that I was threatened by men’s tastes because I assumed they would have to become mine.” They go on to say “I find other people contagious. … I am porous to the world, a kind of joyful sponge for the affectations and interests of the people I love. … It has been the work of my life to build slightly firmer boundaries around myself so that I can figure out where I end and the people I love begin.”

This, too, might be the work of my life.