My Favourite Love Song: “She’s Mine” by Eva Westphal
When I fell in love with my spouse over ten years ago, despite already knowing I was polyamorous, I didn’t expect to fall in love that hard again.
The moment my girlfriend came into my life, I was hit by the realisation that she meant more to me than I would have ever expected, and I was absolutely blown away. At the time, there were lots of obstacles: they were struggling with acknowledging they were polyamorous (as an identity, not a choice) and that she couldn’t stay in a monogamous relationship, I was dealing with some recent trauma and spending most of my free time in therapy, and, most importantly, the distance. I had dated long distance before, and occasionally it had been my preference, but starting a new relationship during a global pandemic with someone across the ocean didn’t sound wise.
However, I found myself falling more and more in love with her. What had started as enjoying time together started becoming a need. I would stare at the clock trying to work out when she should wake up, I would go to sleep thinking about her, but I still reassured her that she didn’t need to worry about me. I’ve always known there’s more to a relationship than love, and unfortunately the time wasn’t right, things wouldn’t have worked out. I was patient, happy to be open to the possibility of dating, and we kept communicating our boundaries. I knew there was a big chance we could have never dated, and I thought I didn’t mind that possibility until I did. Until I found myself crying at the thought of losing someone I had never had. Until I would look forward to talking to her every day, agonising over the fact I couldn’t see her. I found myself wondering what her scent was, how soft her hair is, what her house looked like past the few corners and walls I had seen on Zoom.
A few weeks before her birthday, I sent her a letter. I needed her to know how I felt for her.
About ten days before then, we started dating. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if she had received the letter earlier, how she would have reacted, but everything else took the backseat. We were dating. It felt impossible, and euphoric, and it took me days to process.
At the time, my favourite love song hadn’t been released yet. I loved sending her songs, making her playlists, and daydreaming about kissing them while listening to them.
As a trans man dating a transfeminine person, I had very complicated feelings about my own sexuality, in ways I’m not sure I can completely understand or explain. While the relationship might look “straight”, there’s an inherent queerness to it. And part of the reason why I feel so safe and comfortable is that we both understand the flexibility to our labels. While a gay man dating a lesbian might confuse lots of people, for us and our identities it makes sense. We exist outside of what cishet people can easily understand, we thrive on exceptions. Our existence is confusing and unapologetic, and we hold for each other the space we don’t have in society. While used to fighting for our rights, we can be vulnerable with each other. Our relationship is a safe space that exists outside of binaries, outside of boxes, outside of labels. We were able to reject any expectations and create our own rules, boundaries, definitions.
While doom scrolling and browsing TikTok, I came across Eva Westphal’s profile. She’s a singer and song-writer based in New York City who started composing when she was only 13 years old. She had just released a single called “She’s Mine”, and I immediately linked it to my girlfriend. While it’s describing a sapphic relationship, and I usually feel weird about “declarations of ownership” in love songs, it just felt written for us.
From the first line, “I love her the days she forgets to text back”, or “I love her the weeks she can’t get out of bed”, the song tells a story about loving each other not despite issues or difficulties, but because of them. Whether it’s transness, ADHD, PTSD, bad days or good days, we’re grateful we can spend that time with each other, be part of each other’s journey.
I love the little moments we can share when we’re not separated by the ocean. Watching her sleep (“Oh I even love her when she’s fast asleep/I’ll keep her warm when we’re under the sheets”), playing with their hair (“I love every curl, every hair on her head”).
The chorus is light-hearted, filled with joy and love, and so easy to relate to:
“She is funny and clever and kind,
She says whatever pops in her mind, oh
And she’s so fucking weird, that when she’s with me
I’m laughing most of the time
And she’s mine, she’s mine.”
Eva Westphal uses a simple and personal narrative to talk about commitment, love, and deep connections. It’s sweet, empowering, and authentic. The acoustic dream-pop sound makes it an actual serenade, less artificial than many popular love songs.
As someone who listens to break-up songs while working, I was surprised when I realised I was listening to it on repeat. It is definitely not my usual genre, but I was lovestruck.
When one day my girlfriend asked me to sing it for her, I just knew it would become my favourite song. Although, granted, I still prefer the original to my voice.
Written Anonymously
Opinion
