From “RELATOPIA Residency: an Artistic Experiment on Cohabitation and Co-Creation,” by Alina Grau
The RELATOPIA Project of the VAR Association, which aimed to create an affective mapping of the couple and to explore how this mapping preserves the social memory of cohabitation, continued with an artistic residency in Câmpul Cetății (Mureș), held between May 5 and 13, 2025.
The residency phase was preceded by an extensive process of documentation, carried out both in archives and libraries, closely linked to the cultural contexts and experiences of different eras that have shaped generations and social interactions, and through investigative interviews with representatives of two generations with polarized perspectives: very young adults (aged 20–30) and more experienced adults (aged 50–60). Reflection on diversity in public engagement was thus approached from multiple angles: aesthetic, social, ethical, critical, and empathetic.
During the residency, a collective process, fragile and fertile in its dynamics, led to an exploration of artistic cohabitation, where shared intentions were reformulated into an interdisciplinary collaboration, each participant bringing the artistic language they mastered best to enter into resonance with the others.
The artists taking part in the residency came from diverse artistic practices: Cristina Toma (Cuzina), visual artist; Jenniffer Corrales, film director; Vero Nica, performance artist and creative writer; Constantin Axinte Amza, sound designer; Mihaela Lungu, visual artist; Alina Tofan, eco-artist; Claudiu Cobilanschi, visual artist; and Cătălina Moisă, architect.
The exploration of the boundaries and intersections between visual arts, eco-art, sound art, and architecture began in Câmpul Cetății, within a stable framework of active engagement and reflection on documentary press material provided by the organizers, covering the period from the 1960s to the present.
Each day, using diverse materials and mixed techniques, the participants worked in different pairs to explore forms of artistic expression through varied methodologies, metaphors, and syntheses, producing performative or materially structured outcomes (collages, sketches, drawings, objects).
The experiential co-creation format was tested in a “house of cohabitation” modeled after a reality show, where daily themes were announced and team presentations facilitated. Moreover, guest experts in psychology, sociology, law, and anthropology (Oana Calnegru, Cătălin D. Constantin, Ramona Chițeanu, and Mihai S. Rusu) offered valuable insights on cohabitation and, through feedback, guided the development of the cohabitation kit during the second phase of the residency.
The Dynamics of Couple Relationships in Romania: The Interaction Between Law and Social Reality
Ramona Chițeanu
Family and couple relationships form a fertile ground for observing the interplay between norms and social reality.
Any analysis of family life and couple dynamics in Romania must start with the recognition of a constant dialectic between legal prescriptions and actual social practices. Legislation not only reflects existing realities but also shapes behavior, establishing norms that can, over time, become societal benchmarks. Simultaneously, society, through its cultural, economic, and political shifts, exerts pressure on lawmakers to adapt. In this way, the couple occupies a space of dual constraint: one defined by legal norms, the other by social customs and expectations.
The evolution of the concept of family in Romanian law reflects the profound transformations of society itself. From the traditional model of marriage to the acceptance of diverse forms of cohabitation, the law is compelled to keep pace with social realities, even as legal norms reshape everyday life in return.
For the purposes of this study, I will focus the comparative analysis on two generations: those who were 20 years old at the time of the 1989 Revolution – Generation X, and those who are 20 years old today – Generation Z.
Two Generations, Two Worlds
Looking back at Romania in the 1980s, the family stood as a solid yet rigid institution. For those who were twenty at the time of the Revolution, reaching adulthood naturally implied the next step: marriage. Without it, one risked being perceived as “incomplete.” In 1989, romantic encounters were arranged via landline telephones or even while waiting in line for milk. One image captures the era perfectly: two young people at the Civil Registry Office, parents by their side, holding their ID cards and a small bouquet of flowers. Marriage was not just a private affair; it was a public affirmation. “They got married; they’re respectable people.”
Divorce, on the other hand, was a source of shame. The court procedure was cumbersome, requiring evidence and witnesses, discouraging many from filing. Often, couples stayed together “for appearances,” even as frustration built behind closed doors: personality clash, financial disagreements, conflicting ideas about raising children. All of this remained unspoken, particularly since domestic violence, frequently fuelled by alcohol, was socially tolerated.
Today, the landscape has changed completely. Many 20-year-olds meet their partners through dating apps rather than at prom night. They are the first generation to have begun their romantic lives directly in the era of social media, Tinder, and public debates on civil partnerships, gender equality, and diversity. Parents no longer have the final say. Instead, they often find out from an Instagram post that their son or daughter “is seeing someone.” Marriage is no longer a must. Many choose cohabitation, even for life, and while the law does not punish them, it still fails to offer them sufficient protection.
Marriage, Family, Couple
In post-communist Romania, the relationship between couple, family, and marriage has been in a constant state of reconstruction, shaped by the social, legal, and cultural transformations the country has undergone. The analysis of these concepts from December 1989 to the present day reveals both the persistence of certain legal and cultural traditions and the tensions brought about by legislative modernization, demographic shifts, and European integration.
Marriage has remained, at least in normative terms, the central institution around which family life is organized. The 1991 Constitution, in Article 48(1), established the principle that the family “is founded on the freely consented marriage of the spouses, their full equality, as well as the right and duty of the parents to ensure the upbringing, education and instruction of their children.” This wording carried forward the tradition of the 1953 Family Code, emphasizing heterosexual marriage as the legal foundation of family life. Later, the Civil Code that came into force in 2011 restructured certain aspects of matrimonial regimes but retained the core structure of the institution. Moreover, the attempt to revise the Constitution through the 2018 referendum, which sought to replace the term “spouses” with the phrase “a man and a woman”, revealed the tension between a conservative legislative stance and a socially evolving reality.
As both a legal and social concept, the family has evolved with greater flexibility. Under the communist regime, it was defined almost exclusively in relation to marriage. After 1989, however, its meaning broadened. Legally, Article 258 of the Civil Code defines the family as being “composed of spouses and their descendants,” while also recognizing other relationships established by law, such as kinship and adoption. Sociologically, though, the family has become a diverse reality: we are witnessing a rise in single-parent households, an increase in births outside marriage, and a growing acceptance of cohabitation as an alternative. These shifts have been driven by factors such as massive migration after 1990, the economic emancipation of women, and the cultural transition from community-based solidarity to individual autonomy.
The notion of the couple, on the other hand, has gained visibility in social life but remains without formal legal recognition. In Romania, cohabitation does not constitute a distinct legal institution and does not produce effects equivalent to marriage, except in certain indirect cases (for example, regarding housing rights, social benefits, or child protection). Unlike many other European countries, Romania has not adopted legislation on civil partnerships, despite years of public debate, especially following the Coman v. Romania ruling (ECHR, 2018), in which the Romanian state was required to recognize the residence rights of a same-sex spouse of a Romanian citizen, under the EU’s freedom of movement principle. The absence of domestic legislation regulating the legal status of consensual unions – whether heterosexual or homosexual – maintains a gap between social reality and the legal framework.
The 1953 Family Code, crafted in the spirit of socialist uniformity, tightly regulated the conditions for entering and sustaining marriage. It set different minimum ages for future spouses – 18 for men and 16 for women – with the possibility of lowering the latter to 15 with administrative approval. Parental consent was required, and in cases of disagreement, the father’s opinion prevailed. Consequently, young people’s autonomy was restricted, and the family was regarded as an institution subordinated to both the collective and the state.
This framework reflected a society in which marriage was almost a prerequisite for social validation. Generation X experienced intense pressure to marry early, and although divorce was legally permitted, it carried significant social stigma. This pressure came from multiple sources: economic, social, religious, and linked to one’s social status.
The grounds for divorce cited at the time were typically “grave offenses” (infidelity, violence), while many personal conflicts (differences in views on marital roles, financial management, child-rearing, or the interference of career and migration) remained hidden beneath a façade of stability. Rigid legislation contributed to this apparent family cohesion: the difficulty of obtaining a divorce, combined with the social shame surrounding it, effectively suppressed many attempts to end dysfunctional marriages.
After the fall of the communist regime, the social pressure placed on couples began to ease, and the legislation gradually came to reflect this change. Law No. 288/2007 amended the Family Code by setting the minimum age for marriage at 18 for both partners, allowing exceptions down to 16 only with medical approval and authorization from the social welfare authority. This equalization of age thresholds eliminated gender-based discrimination and symbolically recognized the equal status of men and women.
As part of the government’s legislative modernization program, the 2009 Civil Code further consolidated equality between spouses, not only in terms of minimum marriage age but also through the codification of mutual moral duties, the affirmation of each partner’s independence, the simplification of divorce procedures, and the introduction of the preciput clause. Symbolically, this clause represented a move away from the collectivist framework of the 1953 Family Code toward an affective-patrimonial logic, recognizing both the emotional and material contributions of one’s life partner.
Under recent national legislation, neither spouse may interfere with or control the other’s correspondence, social relationships, beliefs (spiritual or religious), or professional decisions. These protections have become especially relevant in an era dominated by technology and social media. Some traditional obligations, however, remain in place, for instance, the spouses’ duty to live together. The new matrimonial regime also introduced flexibility, allowing couples to choose arrangements other than the legal community property regime, such as the conventional regime or separation of property.
When a relationship breaks down, there is no longer a need to publicly prove the “culpability” of one’s partner. If both agree, divorce can now be finalized quickly and discreetly before a notary or marriage officiant. The difference from the 1980s is dramatic, divorce has transformed from a nearly traumatic public ordeal into a pragmatic life decision. Today, it is no longer viewed as a failure but rather as a reset, a way to rebuild life when a relationship no longer works.
In my professional experience, when a client comes to our law firm seeking a divorce, my first concern is to identify the deeper causes of the conflict in order to assess whether reconciliation or continuation of the relationship is still possible. An analysis of practical cases has revealed two recurring indicators among couples on the verge of separation: the separation of financial management and sleeping in different spaces, which often leads to a breakdown of intimacy.
Sleeping apart is one of the clearest signs of emotional separation, because physical intimacy and closeness during sleep are fundamental to maintaining emotional connection. The child often becomes a “convenient excuse” for this arrangement, but in reality, what is being built is a physical and emotional wall between partners.
The issue of managing money within a couple is not new. However, one key difference between today’s generation and that of the 1980s lies in the nature of income. In the 1980s, income was predominantly salary-based. Today, the landscape is far more diverse – freelancing, investments, cryptocurrencies, online businesses – each bringing with it different financial personalities.
The concept of financial personality shows that a couple’s dynamic depends not only on affection but also on how each partner thinks, feels, and acts in relation to money: spending, saving, investing, and risk-taking. Financial personality goes beyond numbers, it encompasses values, habits, and life philosophies. When one partner is cautious and savings-oriented while the other spends freely, tensions inevitably arise. Without communication and transparency, these differences can turn into frustration and, ultimately, divorce.
My experience in legal practice has only strengthened my belief that couples who talk openly about debts, savings, and shared goals build stronger relationships. By contrast, when financial secrets enter the picture – hidden expenses, undisclosed loans, separate “just-in-case” accounts – the relationship is put to the test.
In many cases, financial separation becomes an unconscious preparation for emotional separation.
This observation brings to mind the inclusion, in modern Romanian law, of the matrimonial regime of separation of property, under which spouses share neither assets nor debts.
The concept of property separation raises profound questions about the nature of marital commitment. Symbolically, marriage is meant to represent a complete fusion – “two become one”, and under this regime, it may appear that one enters marriage already contemplating possible exit scenarios. This, at first glance, seems to contradict the idea of lifelong commitment, the traditional “till death do us part.” In other words, separating patrimonies implies that the marital fusion is only partial, preserving certain zones of predefined independence.
Nonetheless, while it might seem to indicate a lack of full trust, the separation of property regime is a valid legal option that can reflect a variety of motivations, including maturity and responsibility rather than mere defensiveness. The principle behind it is that one can love another deeply while still recognizing their potential weaknesses in financial management or acknowledging, based on statistical trends, that the high rate of divorces justifies a degree of prudence.
One possible motivation is that partners, recognizing their different financial personalities, opt to manage their resources separately to prevent financial tensions from damaging the relationship itself. Another is that, in the event of separation, spouses are not obliged to divide property (except for assets acquired jointly, as is also the case for unmarried partners).
The fact that spouses’ property relations can be regulated through the coercive authority of the state is illustrated by existing legislation, which permits, in certain circumstances, the judicial modification of the matrimonial regime. Specifically, a community property regime (whether legal or contractual) may be replaced by a separation of property regime through a court order. Such a change can be granted at the request of one spouse if the other has entered into legal transactions that endanger the family’s financial interests.
Generation Z: Diversity and Fragile Freedom
Today’s twenty-year-olds view romantic relationships as personal and flexible experiences. Marriage is no longer considered a necessary marker of social maturity, and consensual unions are increasingly common. Statistics indicate that over 400,000 unmarried couples in Romania live together without legal protection. This reality becomes problematic when issues arise such as the death of one partner, access to medical information, or the division of jointly acquired assets.
From a sociological perspective, the accepted grounds for divorce have broadened to include temperament incompatibility, financial disagreements, poor communication, infidelity, differing parenting philosophies, and, as noted earlier, contrasting financial habits.
Legislation, by simplifying divorce procedures, no longer imposes obstacles and allows marriage to be dissolved quickly and, if desired, discreetly, once conjugal consensus has collapsed. The introduction of non-judicial divorce processes, handled by a notary or marriage officiant, represents a notable innovation, providing privacy in contrast to the traditionally public court proceedings.
Some changes stem from shifting social realities, while others are driven by technological advancements, and the law must adapt to both. A recent example from Europe: a man in the Netherlands was sued after fathering more than 550 children through sperm donation. Romania has not yet seen such cases, but public discussions about artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization, and even surrogacy are already part of the national conversation, and, inevitably, of the legislative agenda, though not without controversy.
One of the clearest examples of the interplay between law and social reality is Romanian migration following the country’s entry into the European Union and the accompanying freedom of movement. This shift resulted in many children being raised by a single parent or by grandparents, prompting legislative changes related to parental authority and child protection. In this case, the law initially anticipated the social change, but had to later adapt to its real-world consequences.
Marriage continues to serve as the legal foundation of the family, constitutionally reinforced and upheld by a conservative vision. Yet, social reality shows that the family is no longer exclusively the product of marriage, and that the couple, as a form of emotional solidarity and cohabitation, has become a legitimate life experience recognized by society, even if not yet fully recognized by the law.
Consequently, the primary contemporary legal challenge for Romania in the realm of family law is determining how to regulate the diverse forms of cohabitation.
Currently, the legislative authority confronts a fundamental tension between competing paradigms of thought. This complex situation represents a turning point, as the country must reconcile seemingly irreconcilable perspectives to shape the legal framework for contemporary relationships.
On one hand, Orthodox tradition and the conservative perspective, deeply rooted in the fabric of Romanian society, continue to exert significant influence over public discourse. This view, supported by the Romanian Orthodox Church and by numerous traditionalist opinion leaders, advocates for maintaining a classical understanding of family structures and of the moral values deemed essential to the nation’s identity.
At the same time, European integration and international pressures introduce their own normative agenda, influenced by a Western European vision that values and safeguards diverse forms of intimate arrangements. This perspective highlights the importance of legally recognizing the various ways individuals choose to structure their private lives, including through consensual unions and civil partnerships.
The complexity of this situation has deepened following the 2023 decision of the European Court of Human Rights, which unequivocally established the urgent need for adequate legal protection of diverse forms of cohabitation by the Romanian state.
Romania is therefore tasked with reconciling these divergent forces, creating a legal framework that respects both its European obligations and its domestic sensibilities. This challenge goes beyond the purely legal realm; it is a cultural and political balancing act that will significantly shape the future trajectory of Romanian society, influencing its connection to traditional values as well as its engagement with the demands of European modernity.
Yet beyond laws and statistics lies a lesson shared by all generations: communication remains the key. Whether considering parents who once had to grant consent for marriage or young people who now communicate through instant messages, the foundation of the relationship remains dialogue. Financial differences, the absence of a shared parental model, or career pressures do not necessarily lead to divorce; they become insurmountable only when left unspoken.
If Generation X was taught to remain silent and endure, and today’s generation is tempted to end relationships at the first sign of difficulty, perhaps the middle ground is this: to talk more, to listen more, and to run less. The law may facilitate separation—but only communication can make continuity possible.
Taken as a whole, the dynamics of couple relationships in Romania reveal a continual interplay between legal norms and social reality. While the ’89 generation experienced a regime of imposed stability, where divorce was difficult and stigmatized, Generation Z inhabits an era of freedom and diversity, where divorce is readily accessible and marriage is just one of many possible forms of partnership.
Thus, the law is not simply a reflection of reality but an active agent of change. It has shaped, and continues to shape, how we understand love, marriage, and divorce.
What remains constant? The imperative that law must never lag behind life. For no matter how modern love becomes, without legal recognition, it remains vulnerable.
And to end on a lighter note, perhaps by the year 2050, couples will formalize their civil partnerships on the blockchain, complete with digital certificates and instant legal guarantees.
Bibliography
- Legislation
- Romanian Constitution (1991, revised in 2003) – Art. 26 (intimate, family, and private life), Art. 48 (the family).
- The Family Code (1953, in force until October 1, 2011).
- The Civil Code (Law no. 287/2009, republished) – Book II, “Despre familie” (Articles 258–534).
- Law no. 273/2004 on the adoption procedure.
- Law no. 272/2004 on the protection and promotion of the rights of the child.
- Doctrine
- Corneliu Bîrsan, Drept civil. Drepturile reale principale și dreptul familiei, Hamangiu Publishing House, Bucharest, various editions.
- Flavius Baias, E. Chelaru, R. Constantinovici, I. Macovei (eds.), Noul Cod civil. Comentariu pe articole, C.H. Beck Publishing House, Bucharest, 2012 (especially commentary on Articles 258–534).
- Ioan Muraru, Simina Tănăsescu, Drept constituțional și instituții politice, C.H. Beck Publishing House, Bucharest, recent editions (for interpretation of Article 48 of the Constitution).
- Mona-Maria Pivniceru, Dreptul familiei. Note de curs, Hamangiu Publishing House, Bucharest, 2016.
- Elena Dumitru, “Evoluția instituției căsătoriei și a familiei în dreptul românesc postdecembrist,” in Revista Română de Drept Privat, no. 4/2015.
- I. Reghini, “Căsătoria și familia în Noul Cod civil,” in Pandectele Române, no. 5/2011.
- Andreea Drăghici, Protecția juridică a copilului și a familiei, C.H. Beck Publishing House, Bucharest, 2013.
- National and European case law
- Constitutional Court of Romania, Decision no. 580/2016 – regarding the constitutionality of the citizens’ initiative to amend Article 48 paragraph (1) of the Constitution.
- Constitutional Court of Romania, Decision no. 907/2009 – regarding the definition of the family and constitutional protection.
- High Court of Cassation and Justice, Civil and Intellectual Property Section – case law regarding the effects of marriage and recognition of cohabitation situations (specific cases related to housing or inheritance).
- ECtHR, Coman and Others v. Romania (judgment of 5 June 2018) – regarding recognition of a same-sex spouse under the freedom of movement.
- CJEU, Coman, Hamilton and Accept (C-673/16, judgment of 5 June 2018) – related case clarifying EU Member States’ obligation to recognize residence rights for the same-sex spouse of an EU citizen.
- ECtHR, Schalk and Kopf v. Austria (2010) – regarding recognition of same-sex couples and the right to family life.
- ECtHR, Oliari and Others v. Italy (2015) – obligation of states to ensure legal recognition for same-sex couples.
- Sociological perspectives (for contextualization)
- Dumitru Sandu, Spațiul social al tranziției, Polirom Publishing House, Iași, 1996 (analyzes migration and social changes after 1989).
- Vasile Ghețău, Declinul demografic și viitorul populației României, Alpha MDN Publishing House, Buzău, 2007 (post-1989 demographic phenomena).
- Cătălin Zamfir (ed.), O nouă provocare: dezvoltarea socială, Polirom Publishing House, Iași, 2007 (context of changes in private and family life).
Affective Relatopias: Love in the Neoliberal Era of Liquid Modernity
Mihai S. Rusu
We experience love as an intensely subjective personal experience, a heady cocktail of emotions, thoughts, desires, and projections. Alongside grief, its opposing counterpart, few emotions are felt with as much intensity and poignancy as love. Yet, despite its self-evident subjectivity, the feeling of love is shaped and made possible by supra-individual and macro-social factors. Among these, institutionalized discourses that idealize love as a desirable emotion and tie it to marriage as its foundational context play a crucial role. In societies where such structures are weak or absent, passionate love may fail to develop within individual subjectivities or, if it does emerge, may be violently suppressed, as seen in certain traditional communities where marital unions are determined by family arrangements rather than personal choice, sometimes resulting in honor killings.
In the Western world, the concept of love as a normative discourse that shaped individual sensibilities and revolutionized marriage, from a parental arrangement to a personal choice, was institutionalized only with the Romantic era beginning in the 18th century. It was not until the 20th century that marriage for love, as opposed to arranged marriages or marriages of convenience, became the dominant model. At the same time, after Romantic literature had prepared the emotional groundwork, mass media such as radio and television, along with the entire post–World War II cultural industry, cemented the ideal of love as a personal right. My purpose in this text is not to trace the history of love or its impact on couple relationships, but to reflect on the nature and possibility of love in contemporary society. In doing so, the text will navigate key authors in the sociology of love, offering foundational ideas for conceptualizing the notion of “affective relatopia” in the neoliberal era of liquid modernity.
My first guide is Zygmunt Bauman, the sociologist who theorized “liquid love” as a socio-emotional expression of “liquid modernity.” For Bauman, late modernity, which emerged in the context of the cultural, social, and political, including sexual, revolutions of the 1960s, became “liquid.” Whereas the “solid modernity” it replaced was marked by stable and enduring social structures, patterns of coexistence, and economic institutions, such as the nation-state, the standard nuclear family, and the professional career, liquid modernity is defined by fluidity, mobility, and uncertainty. With this structural metamorphosis, the societal frameworks and cultural reference points of the postmodern individual lose their fixed character, transforming them into an “existential nomad” subject to the imperatives of a neoliberal ethic that demands adaptability to a market logic privileging flexibility.
After examining liquid modernity at a macro-sociological level in Liquid Modernity (2000), Bauman narrows his focus to investigate the forms of love produced by the liquefaction of durable institutional structures. In Liquid Love (2003), the Polish sociologist explores the “fragility of human bonds” within the liquid modernity he previously described. “Liquid love,” Bauman insists, describes the fragile logic of intimate relationships specific to neoliberal contemporary society. In a world reshaped by the hegemony of the capitalist market and consumerism, the nature of intimate relationships becomes imprinted with the ethos of that system. Instead of the ideal of a marriage founded on agape love, where spouses remain together “for better or worse, until death do us part,” consumerist liquid modernity transforms love into a commodity, a marketable good offering instant gratification and cheap emotional thrills. The implications for experiencing and practicing love are profound: intimacy no longer functions as a shared, long-term socio-emotional bond within a stable relational framework, but instead becomes an affective transaction, with participants treating affection, time, and effort as measurable investments judged by a return-on-investment logic.
The political economy of love in liquid modernity thus fosters multiple, transient, and hyper-sexualized socio-affective experiences marked by ephemerality, lack of commitment, and instrumental value. Platform capitalism, as described by Nick Srnicek (2016), particularly through the rise and widespread use of dating apps like Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and Grindr, reshapes Bauman’s concept of liquid love into what can be called algorithmic love. Practices that individuals previously performed implicitly, such as evaluating emotional investments, assessing risks, and planning exit strategies, are now externalized and optimized by digital platforms. The algorithmic codification of intimacy not only amplifies the logic of liquid love to its extreme, “gamifying” it, but also converts it into a source of profit. Platform-mediated matchmaking, and the algorithmically curated experiences it promises, becomes a premium socio-affective commodity sold through “subscription” models.
The most ambitious project in the sociology of love, however, belongs to Eva Illouz. In a series of seminal works – Consuming the Romantic Utopia (1997), Cold Intimacies (2007), Why Love Hurts (2012), and Emotional Capitalism (2018) – Illouz progressively develops the thesis that modern love is structured at the intersection of emotional life and capitalist rationality. Even before Bauman, she highlighted the commercial commodification of romantic feelings and their packaging through various mass media channels for the “consumption of the romantic utopia.” Love has been shaped by media and experienced through socio-economic consumption via purchasable events, such as romantic weekends in promoted tourist destinations, for example, Paris, the “capital of love,” and romantic dinners. Within this emotional economy of “romantic consumerism,” couple intimacy is increasingly defined by acts of consumption, without which it is rendered difficult to imagine, or at minimum, feels incomplete.
Her most incisive analysis appears in the book in which she examines the “cold intimacies” produced by “emotional capitalism.” In Cold Intimacies (2007), Illouz shows individual affective experiences become enmeshed with the economic rationality of the capitalist system. The free-market economic logic, perceived as a natural state of affairs, colonizes human emotions, subordinating them to its own rationality centered on efficiency and profit maximization. This produces subjectivities shaped as neoliberal emotional entrepreneurs: individuals who invest in their bodily capital through fitness regimes and cosmetic procedures, cultivate “emotional intelligence” via personal-development tools, curate their identities on digital platforms, and seek immediate sexual and emotional gratification through dating apps, often within fleeting, transactional relationships.
The pessimism stemming from the fragility of human bonds described by Bauman and the economic cynicism revealed by Illouz are counterbalanced by more optimistic perspectives. Among these, Anthony Giddens’ concept of the “pure relationship” holds a prominent place. For Giddens, late modernity, our present era, is defined above all by “reflexivity,” the contemporary individual’s capacity to reflect on themselves and to transform their life’s trajectory into a “project of the self” through deliberate exercise of agency. In intimate relationships, reflexive modernity applies to individuals who are capable of self-emancipation, possessing the agency to shape their own identities within a society largely freed from the normative constraints of tradition. The “pure relationship” is a socio-affective bond liberated from the corset of traditional norms, including family pressure, religious constraints, asymmetrical gender roles, and women’s economic dependence. In a society grounded in individual rights and freedoms, autonomous individuals can freely enter relationships aimed at mutual emotional fulfillment, even if these relationships are temporally flexible, “until further notice.” For Giddens, the “plastic sexuality” that underpins pure relationships, driven by the pursuit of pleasure, represents a form of love liberated from the constraints of reproduction, family obligations, and traditional gender roles. Yet this democratization of intimacy carries new identity, emotional, and existential challenges: “pure relationships,” unbound by external pressures, can be quickly corrupted by hyper-sexualization and bodily objectification within a culture of commodified desire typical of affective capitalism.
60 Years of Cohabitation in Romania Through the Eyes of a Psychologist
Through the Relatopia project, I had the privilege, as a psychologist, of collaborating with researchers, artists, and experts from related fields to examine how romantic relationships and cohabitation patterns have evolved in Romania over the past sixty years.
By analyzing materials collected by documentarians and presented on the project’s website, correlated with relevant psychological and sociological literature, I identified several key stages and defining themes. I will outline them here to show how each period left a specific “relational imprint” and what we can learn today from these transformations.
1960s – 1980s: Constraints of Cohabitation under Communism
Communism strongly shaped the perspective on cohabitation, emphasizing uniformity through strategies of submission and control. The dominant pattern consisted of early marriage, often accompanied by multigenerational living, whether in a small apartment or a shared household. The state directly intervened in couples’ private lives through policies such as Decree 770 (1966), which prohibited abortion and contraception. The overall picture can be summarized as follows: sexuality and reproduction were tightly regulated, divorce was heavily stigmatized and difficult to obtain, and the family considered the “basic cell of socialist society.” Psychologically, emotional and affective expression was rigidly framed by norms. In the narrow, standardized spaces of communist apartments, partners often experienced a paradoxical sense of division between the public façade of conformity and stability they were expected to maintain, and the private realm of domestic intimacy, where conflict, tension, and frustration frequently surfaced and proved difficult to manage. Social pressure, constant comparison, and fear of judgment limited individual freedom and self-expression, deeply shaping relational patterns based on self-censorship, emotional and administrative dependency, submission, and sacrifice, effects that are still visible today in how post-communist generations understand intimacy, freedom, and responsibility within a couple.
1990–2006: Transition and Uncertainty
With the fall of the communist regime, couple relationships entered a period of profound transformation. Influenced by Western cultural and social models and by legal liberalization, this transition brought higher rates of divorce and informal cohabitation, alongside the gradual abandonment of outdated customs. Economic instability during this period placed a significant pressure on couples, intensifying conflict and insecurity. At the same time, migration gave rise to new patterns of cohabitation, including “transnational” families in which one or both partners worked abroad. Emotional bonds had to find new forms of expression, and separations prompted both creative adaptations, through long-distance support strategies, and vulnerabilities, such as feelings of abandonment, increased infidelity, loneliness, and relational tension. Although social norms became more relaxed, allowing cohabitation to be more flexible and fluid, this newfound freedom often came at the cost of instability and emotional uncertainty.
2007–2020: European Integration and the Renegotiation of Personal and Couple Boundaries
After Romania joined the European Union in 2007, mobility increased, and “transnational” families became increasingly common. Economic development brought both new opportunities and new pressures, shaping a relational pattern that was more autonomous and complex. The introduction of simplified divorce procedures and joint custody under the new Civil Code of 2011 provided clearer recognition of individual rights. Social norms diversified, and more couples chose to delay marriage or live together without formalizing their relationship. Relational stability remained a valued goal, but it became a matter of conscious choice rather than a guarantee offered by a marriage certificate. Partners began to recognize the importance of emotional compatibility and sought personal satisfaction within their relationships. For many adults, finding a balance between work and private life also became a central concern. In the decade leading up to the pandemic, while the legal framework remained largely heteronormative, public discourse and online media increasingly accommodated diverse and non-traditional relationships. Non-traditional couple stories became visible, including patchwork families, long-distance relationships maintained digitally, and a more visible LGBTQ+ presence in the public sphere.
Relational psychology gradually established a firm presence in public awareness through couple therapy, parental counseling, and the growing visibility of anti-domestic violence campaigns. These changes reflect both emotional and social maturation, as well as a growing emphasis on the fulfillment of needs at the top of Maslow’s hierarchy. Couples began to identify and call out different forms of abuse, and the importance of emotional and relational health appeared more frequently in public discourse and the media.
2020–2025: The (Post)Pandemic Period Has Redefined Life in Hybrid Terms
The pandemic significantly reshaped cohabitation patterns. Isolation, remote work, and online schooling brought communal life to the forefront, while the lack of personal space and heightened collective anxiety exacerbated vulnerabilities in some couples, intensifying tensions and conflicts. Statistics showed increases in both domestic violence cases and divorce rates. For other couples, however, the period offered an opportunity for closeness and rediscovery of shared routines, providing a chance for introspection, reaffirmation of shared values, and reorganizing time to prioritize family. These transformations also influenced living arrangements, including suburban expansion, homes adapted for both office and family life, and the rise of hybrid living.
Today, the age at which people marry for the first time remains relatively high, with many couples formalizing their relationships later, after prioritizing career and personal stability. Relationships have evolved into ongoing negotiations between individual autonomy and shared commitment, with flexibility emerging as a key resource for adaptation and relational well-being. Increasingly, partners choose to remain together as long as the relationship offers mutual support and emotional containment, while unmet emotional needs are now widely recognized as a legitimate reason for separation.
My conclusions…
Looking back over the past sixty years, several key transformations in couple relationships come into view. Whereas uniformity was the rule under communism, today we see growing acceptance of diversity and multiple relational patterns. In the past, priority was given to material security and social obligation, whereas today people consciously seek emotional satisfaction in their relationships and personal psychological balance, with many responsibilities redefined and freed from gender stereotypes. Drawing on over ten years of clinical experience with couples in Romania, these observations align with findings from the Relatopia archive: while couples today enjoy greater freedom and the ability to negotiate relational boundaries, relationships often remain more fragile and less resilient. Assertive communication and conscious dialogue have become essential skills for partners. The diversity of relational patterns is increasingly seen as a resource rather than a threat, while several core emotional needs remain constant: intimacy, emotional support, and reciprocity.
