There’s something people are missing about enemies-to-lovers.

There’s something people are missing about enemies-to-lovers.

You’ve seen the discourse; “Don’t tell me a story is enemies to lovers unless they’re truly trying to murder each other, etc etc.” And I’m not saying this is a bad take, necessarily. In a market oversaturated with the trope, the frustration of paying for one thing and getting a limp and lackluster other thing is completely understandable. However, I wonder if the “I want them to try and kill each other” girlies are taking a literal approach to a multifaceted romantic dynamic. Let me explain. 

We start out with two people. They meet, they spend time together, and eventually they fall in love. But it’s the journey that matters in the romance genre, not the destination. It’s the conflict and obstacles preventing two people from being in a relationship that make a romance. We as the audience know these two are made for each other, but either they don’t know it, which is internal conflict, or they do know it and are kept apart by outside forces, which is external conflict. Enemies-to-lovers is giving you very rich conflict, both internal and external.

To elaborate further, no one is trying to kill Lucy, the main character from The Hating Game. And yet, The Hating Game is an enemies-to-lovers romance between Lucy and her coworker, Josh. Their external conflict? The publishing companies they work for have merged into one big company with extremely different company cultures and artistic sensibilities. The internal? Lucy thinks Josh hates her due to her  insecurities, and Josh thinks he’s not a viable love interest for Lucy due to his insecurities. Chef’s kiss. Muah. Not only are these two facing their own baggage in order to realize they’re made for each other, they’re also facing additional pressure from their corporate environment, which places them on opposing sides. That’s the sauce, baby.

What makes this trope so compelling is the enemies starting point has (usually) both internal and external conflict baked into the loaf. Take my book, The King’s Starkeeper, for example. Phyliri and Gwayne are from two different countries on the brink of war. And although their masters are in cahoots, as the story progresses, more layers emerge to show how vastly their loyalties differ. This external conflict puts them squarely in the “enemies” category. Internally, Gwayne must face his own prejudices, as he was born in a culture distrusting of magic, and is therefore extremely uncomfortable travelling alongside, Phyliri, a magic user. And Phyliri, who comes from a culture which harbors animosity towards soldiers, must face hers. She has an additional internal conflict, her belief that “love is a cage,” which also influences her journey toward realizing she and Gwayne are made for each other.

But here’s the fun part; I didn’t have to stop at enemies. What happens when two enemies have to fake a relationship in multiple life-or-death situations? What happens when they accidentally adopt an orphan and become a dysfunctional little family unit, still enemies? What happens when they can’t give into their burgeoning feelings for one another because one is keeping secrets? And because giving in to those feelings might unravel a tangled web of politics, blackmail, and power? What happens when the slowburn is given room to breathe? Short answer, you get some serious yearning.

I wanted my romantic subplot to build on itself, to have hidden facets and layers to uncover. To force these characters to confront themselves in ways that only fueled the tension. I guess what I’m saying is, there’s a whole lotta journey between enemies and lovers, and so it’s my humble belief that reducing the whole trope down to just “two people trying to kill each other” is limiting. How many times can two people try to kill each other before you start to get a little bored? Enemies-to-lovers is a launching pad. A start line right before the bullhorn sounds. It can’t tell you what to do, so don’t let it!