Is Dating Dead?

Influenced by rom-coms, I’m sure, I always thought that one day a man would meet me and be starstruck. He’d find the quirks that are probably mental health issues charming, and be captivated by the very things I deem imperfections. I imagined after just one meeting he’d be unfollowing women on Instagram, asking for my number (not my socials), and that getting on a date as soon as possible would be met with determination and scheduled with ease.

Now this isn’t the part where I tell you the above is all wrong—I think the desire for these kind of meet cutes still exists. I hear it from both men and women that they want a love story, one that probably starts off the apps, but there seems to be a gap between want and reality right now. My diagnosis? Access. In the 80s when you met someone and had that rush of chemistry or even slight intrigue, you were hard pressed to get their number by the end of the night not because the initial connection was any stronger than what we feel today at Desert 5 Spot on a Saturday night but because if you didn’t you may never see that person again. But this generation has turned to Instagram connections in loo of numbers allowing either party to watch stories, send fire emoji reactions, and keep a safe step away from real vulnerability at all times.

I have been known to ask men out—as one of my old roommates used to say “So you ask them out and what they find out you’re interested in them? So what? You are. Let them be flattered.” Historically this boldness hasn’t gone well leading to a “no,” a “thanks but I’m seeing someone,” or the worst response—“Sure but I’m pretty busy these next few weeks.”

And so as dates become fewer and far between, and negativity rises, we turn to social media for a hit of dopamine, the same hormones we could have gotten on the dates we are no longer going on. Maybe you’re ok to trade the intimate connection of falling sleep next to someone for a long lasting doom scroll with blue light that ruins your sleep, but I’m not. I’m not sure what the solution is for our lonely generation, but I’m leaning towards a love of rejection. Boldness that pushes us forward no matter the nos paired with a causal take on getting to know someone. Asking for a date isn’t marriage and asking for marriage means you’re not liking seven girl’s instagram stories on the daily.

The older I get the more I realize my parents marriage of 40 plus happy years or the friends around me that I would say have “hit the jackpot” haven’t won the lottery but instead they choose to live each day with the mindset “I’ve won the lottery,” even when their partner is chewing like a monster, or when the known feels less exciting than the unknown. But as our generation falls asleep to a curated feed influencing us to believe in a certain product or live in a particular way, how will we trust our intuition to choose our own partners?

Homework: Ask out one person in person this month, use socials for good and move your story liking relationship to a real one with a slide into the dms, and make communication clear—use words like “take you out,” “date,” and “I want to buy you a drink.” None of this “we should catch up” crap. Because who knows you could be one vulnerable gesture away from winning the lottery.