Valentine’s Day is approaching, you guys. I’m not a fan and never have been, but this is not a rant about Valentines’ Day being commercialised / made up / lame / a Tuesday. If it’s your bag, more power to you. It’s not mine but it’s not that hard to just chuck all the jewellery catalogues in the recycling instead of complaining about it. Go forth and be loved, lovers, and bask in your I-got-flowers-delivered-to-work smugness when I see you on public transport. Good for you; you deserve it.
It does seem timely though, to use this opportunity to talk about dating and romance, so here we are. Don’t know what it’s like to be a single girl negotiating this whole dating landscape this day and age? Well, pull up a chair, bucko, and let me take you on a journey…
You’re a bit confused at the moment. Because obviously you are a sucker for cute boys with nice arms who laugh at your dumb jokes and are sweet to their mothers. It wasn’t a ‘thing’ though, even if you wouldn’t have minded it being so. What can you do? Sometimes people don’t people very well and it sucks. You can only be you and you’re not everyone’s cup of tea.
So you feel a little deflated, until you pick up Aziz Ansari’s excellent and hilarious Modern Romance at the airport, which fills you in on how this whole thing is legitimately HARD FOR EVERYONE, not just dorky introverted girls like you, and people are BAD AT IT, as backed up by a swag of research data. Evidence, you guys! In your face, people who reckon this stuff is easy.
But then you’re on a plane reading a book about dating while this perfect hipster poster-child couple (long hair / straw hats / sketch books) start madly pashing in the seats next to you and you start to think that if your life was a sitcom this would be one of those moments when the laughter track kicks in.
So you think now is the time to just branch out. You don’t have to be looking for anything in particular. Just find some people to go on dates with. At best, you will meet some nice, interesting people. No big deal.
And then you find yourself on Tinder because it’s quick and easy and no one can bother you unless you’ve matched with them. And this happens:
- Within the first 10 swipe-able options: the guy with the nice arms above.
- Within the first 30 swipe-able options:the guy you slept with before him.
- Every other person: former colleague / school friend / presumably-fake calendar fireman.
- Also, does EVERYONE snowboard?
You go on a turbo swipe-left marathon and then:
You’ve rejected everyone in town. Good for you.
I kid, I kid. You matched with people. It’s not all doom and gloom.
Your bestie hits you up to say a former colleague has asked after you, seeing as how you’re single and ready to mingle and all. They seem to be forgetting that THEY HAVE PREVIOUSLY MET YOU and you did not particularly get along. Hooray for the information age. Just use the damn app and leave my mates alone.
You realise your conversation skills might not be quite up to snuff when you find yourself chatting with a guy about the weather. The weather?! You don’t care about the weather. You are capable of talking about so many other things. (Sorry, Thomas. My bad.)
The point is, it doesn’t matter. Not in any real way. And it’s hard because people are hard. No one has a clue what they are doing. Look as much or as little as you like. Message, don’t message. It is no big deal. The only person you are going to end up with forever is yourself. So buy yourself some goddamn heart-shaped chocolates for Valentine’s Day, and cut yourself some slack. You’re a pretty sweet deal.
‘Til next time,