Deconstructing Romantic Love: A 3-Year Experiment in Sovereignty

If you've known me at all over the last three years, you likely know about my on-again, off-again love affair.

And when I say "love affair," I don’t mean an illicit secret. I mean a twin flameship, a soulmateship, a best friendship, a relationship that has defied every traditional mold—including the ones I thought I had outgrown.

This has been a connection shaped not by convention, but by a series of radical choices.

Choices like: not getting married. Not having kids. Not cohabitating. Not merging finances. Not assuming permanence just because love is present.

And yet, still desiring reverence. Still desiring to be chosen, adored, attuned to.

Building Love Outside Patriarchal Expectations

 When I began building my business two years ago, I entered a period of intense financial and emotional deconstruction. I stopped doing work just to get paid and started building a business that included my essence and my full mission. That meant a lot of experimenting and pivoting (vs. "failures").

That's meant moving in and out of debt, funding myself with previous savings and investments.

But most of all, it meant I had to get really honest with myself about what I wanted in love.

If I didn't want marriage, children, or cohabitation—and if I didn't want to share money or a roof—what kind of relationship did I want?

I wanted one where:

• He felt whole onto himself and I added to his life.

• I was whole onto myself and he added to my life.

• Where I could speak openly about my needs and not feel ashamed for having them.

• Where I could co-create without codependence, and love without self-erasure.

But I had no real blueprint for what that could look like. Not in the traditional family models I saw. Not even among some of the influencers or coaches I admired. And not in my friendships, where women typically enter the marriage paradigm even if they have egalitarian and feminist approaches to life.

Learning to See the Systems in Relationships

As a Dominicana raised between cultures, I understand what it means to see patriarchy in technicolor.

I have watched the "marriage is salvation" storyline take root in mujeres who are brilliant, brave, and deeply yearning to be chosen and doing what they were told meant success.

And I have watched how that story silences nuance—particularly in communities of color, where we’re told that if we reject the script, we reject our worth.

But I didn't reject love by studying and opting out of marriage. I rejected domination systems.

And I began to see how white supremacy, capitalism, colonialism, and patriarchy don't just live in policy or politics—they live in our intimacy.

In who we believe gets to lead. In who we believe should provide. In how we value consistency, productivity, and emotional labor. In who we expect to "hold it all together."

Even when we are actively anti-oppression in our values, the residue of these systems can live in our:

• Conflicts

• Misunderstandings

• Expectations

• Silences

• Triggers

With my partner—whom I have ended things with and come back to, over and over again—I realized I was being invited into something deeper than romance.

I was being asked to look at the systems that shaped our expectations of each other.

He is kind, loyal, and non-traditional in many ways.

But he is also inconsistent, avoids commitment in certain forms, and has been at times emotionally avoidant—a mirror of many of the men in my lineage.

In him, I saw my father. I saw the wounded masculine.

I saw what happens when the desire to be free collides with the longing to be tethered.

And in me? I saw a woman who could no longer pretend to be okay with care that was just "good enough."

I didn't want to be a plant barely surviving on occasional water. I wanted to flourish.

My Body As Leadership to My Desires

There were times when I got so angry that I would break out into hives. My nervous system was sending me messages I hadn’t yet put into words. I learned to stop demonizing my emotions and start attuning to them.

Like a mother with a child, I began checking in with:

• My energy

• My sleep

• My anger

• My joy

I stopped trying to fix him and started honoring my own signals.

And eventually, I came to this:

I can desire reverence without disappearing. I can be adored without being owned. I can build a life centered on self, art, and spirit, and still want to be chosen by someone who honors that temple.

This spring, I fainted during my friend’s wedding. Not from dehydration or heat, but in the moment when her groom professed his reverence for her. A Dominican woman. My first life coach. A woman who mirrored back to me the possibility of being logical, artistic, and deeply loved.

My body collapsed under the weight of recognition.

Because in that moment, I saw it. I can be child-free, sovereign, creative, and still be cherished.

I don't have to choose between autonomy and affection.

What I Learned: Deconstructing the Four Systems

Without ever saying their names at first, I have spent the last three years working to deconstruct the influence of:

• White supremacy (Who do I believe is most competent? Who do I expect to lead?)

• Capitalism (Do I believe I need to earn love by overperforming or producing?)

• Patriarchy (Do I equate care with control? Do I make space for feminine receiving?)

• Colonialism (Do I abandon my ancestral knowing for modern models of love?)

These systems show up subtly in relationship dynamics, especially when you're building something nontraditional. But the truth is: You can be anti-oppressive in theory and still uphold oppression in practice if you don’t do the relational work.

And this relationship has been my laboratory.

Closing Reflection

I may or may not end up with this man. But I know that this love taught me what my own love requires.

It taught me that partnership doesn't have to follow a patriarchal design to be holy.

It taught me that reverence is not something you beg for—it's something you embody.

It taught me that the way we love is political.

If you’re in or seeking a relationship, here are some questions to explore:

1. What systems of domination have shaped your understanding of love?

2. What do you truly want from partnership, outside of what you've been told to want?

3. How do you care for yourself the way you wish others would?

4. Where do you still seek permission to design your own relationship paradigm?

5. Where have you confused consistency with love? And what does care actually look like for you?

When we reclaim love from domination, we reclaim ourselves.

And from there, anything is possible.