Nomance

My favourite kind of relationship right now...

Last week I face-timed my friend Doug. We met a year and a half ago via one of the dating apps, probably Hinge, maybe Bumble. I wasn’t the slightest bit ready to date at that time, but wanted adventure, wanted to know what possibilities were out there, was still in the slightly manic, glittery phase that happens to many women who emerge from long marriages where they felt they didn’t have any agency.

On paper, Doug is everything I might look for. When we first met, it was for a drink at a terrible wine bar in the West End, the kind of wine bar that only a tourist who didn’t know London might suggest. The wine bar was indeed jam-packed with tourists, and office workers, and although the sun had been shining, it was chilly. After Doug handed over the fleece in his backpack (not warm enough), we moved inside, where there were no free tables. We ended up being the only two people in the basement nightclub (not currently open) of the terrible wine bar.

Doug was sweet, with twinkling eyes, but reserved. It seemed clear to me that even though he was handsome, and clever, and emotionally intelligent, even though he felt like exactly the sort of person I ought to be with, there didn’t appear to be any chemistry. He didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in me (later I discovered he was still reeling with heartbreak, probably should not have been dating quite so soon).

But there was…something. I don’t think either of us knew quite what. We stayed in touch. We regaled each other regularly with tales of our terrible dates, on video calls, where we would frequently collapse with laughter whilst hearing the other’s story.

For a while, in the late summer of 2024, we flirted outrageously on text, but then we’d hop on a video call and it seemed, yet again, neither of us fancied the other.

“You’re a conundrum,” he wrote to me one time. I understood immediately what he meant. That we check the boxes, we feel attached to one another, and yet…and yet…not enough to take it to the next step.

Doug has become what I call a nomance. Less than a romance, but more than a friendship, because a nomance contains possibility, even when you can’t quite get there. Nomances are often confusing, because it should be right, all the right boxes are checked, you love their company, and yet…and yet…there isn’t quite enough to push it over the finish line.

Or even the starting line.

They are a liminal space between friendship and romance, where possibility simmers, but never manages to ignite. Nomances are filled with mutual affection, adoration, often attachment. The head, even the heart may be interested, but the body just doesn’t respond.

Which perhaps makes them so delicious. There is flirtation without risk, affirmation and connection, and always the thread of possibility. Even when you know the spark isn’t fully there.