The New Rules of Dating

My young, single clients are fed up. Their tales of dating woes sound completely exhausting. Many come to sessions traumatized after evenings gone wrong, so I try to help them change the negative core beliefs they have adopted about themselves after unsuccessful encounters: I am unlovable. I am unattractive. I don’t deserve to be happy. But many others state that their therapeutic goal is just to figure out how to embrace singledom. And some women tell me they’ve decided to enter a “celibacy era” after being ghosted by one too many guys. As a relationship therapist who views healthy sexual experiences as one of life’s greatest joys, I find this especially cringeworthy.

My older clients present a stark contrast. Their stories of how they met their partners are nostalgic, filled with unprompted detail about what their relationships were like as things progressed. They describe their initial chemistry and attraction, and maybe the cheesy but charming pickup line they couldn’t help but fall for. And they reference other key players: the mutual friend, the co-worker, or the quirky aunt who surprised them with her keen matchmaking ability.

When we evaluate the state of dating and mating today, we see a profound paradox. According to recent data from the Kinsey Institute and the dating app Feeld, nearly half of adult Gen Z-ers are single, compared to just a fifth of millennials. The survey data further suggest that the biggest issue millennials face in their relationships is how to open their minds sexually, while the biggest concern for the younger generation is that, despite holding the most sexually expansive views of any generation in recent history, they are unsure how to love. Today’s singles under 45 struggle with a mix of emotions: They are overly picky about whom they’ll date but also deeply insecure about their face-to-face dating skills and utterly confused about when and how sex fits into the experience. Given all of that, it’s no surprise that they come into therapy overwhelmed, burned out, and anxious.

It may be time to consider whether the current approach to dating—daunting as it may be to try changing it at this point—might be doing more harm than good, and if it might be time to return to some old-school strategies.

The advent of dating apps, as we know, fundamentally changed how people find and evaluate each other and form relationships. While dating was once grounded in serendipity, social circles, and face-to-face interactions, it has become a web-based process fueled by a return-on-investment mentality.

Perhaps the biggest hindrance is what I call the “judgment double standard.” On the one hand, people swipe left on dating apps with ruthless efficiency, dismissing potentially lovely partners based on a single photo or a few words in a bio. People can’t help but carry that outlook into first dates where a lone awkward comment or a slight mismatch in humor can be enough to inspire rejection and a return to the online pool. It’s what’s become known as “the ick”—a single turnoff, often sparked by something seemingly insignificant, like a too-enthusiastic text, that repels a potential partner and ends a connection at the starting gate. Instead of recognizing that all humans are flawed and allowing attraction to develop between two imperfect people, many of my clients report prematurely ending things that might have grown into meaningful connections.

In line with the effort to add more efficiency to the historically inefficient science of human mating, some of my clients confess to “hard balling” their dates—approaching them with strict, non-negotiable expectations, even to the point of stating upon first meeting that they are only interested in a serious relationship (or the opposite). It’s a mindset that leaves little room for organic compromise and fails to recognize that when people fall in love, that feeling can lead them to discard some of their expectations and work toward new shared dreams. As a result, dating becomes a checklist exercise rather than a journey of mutual discovery.

Hardballing is just a symptom of a growing imbalance between knowns and unknowns and the misguided rejection of the latter. Systems function best when there is tension between parts, even when that tension is, at times, difficult. Trees need both secure roots and flexible branches. Markets need both private enterprise and government oversight. Online dating, however, has produced a fully unbalanced system. People assume that having more critical information up front—desire for children, ideal vacation spots, favorite movies—will lead to greater confidence and security. After all, anxiety typically thrives in the unknown. But that hasn’t been the outcome. Instead, the sea of information available on a dating profile (or via a Google search) has only amplified insecurity and anxiety. If an algorithm determines that we allegedly match up so well with someone, and yet there’s no spark, then maybe there really is no one out there for us after all.

Many of today’s nascent connections fail to launch precisely because the parties already do know so much about each other. What’s left to discover organically? We can be attracted to someone by the excitement they reveal when describing their hobbies or the care they express for their families. When we already know the facts of their background, the opportunity to discover their authentic selves through their words and emotions in the moment—and maybe then fall for them—is stifled.

The irony of young adults being so quick to judge is that many hesitate to put themselves out there precisely because they fear encountering this kind of snap judgment. This double standard—harshly assessing others while resisting or dreading receiving that same scrutiny—makes dating intimidating and exhausting. My clients want to be seen for who they truly are, but not to be rejected for it.

After I got out of a long-term relationship at 29, I thought: No problem. I’ll just find someone new. Then I turned 30, and panic set in. I’m 35 now, and have had a slew of almosts/what-ifs/flings/promises/come-back-arounds/ghostings/canceled dates. Today I’m fully, solidly, committed to the uncommitted. The apps have left me questioning how different an in-person vibe is from a person’s photo—and questioning my own judgment. So here I am, off the apps, leaving it finally—ultimately—up to the universe. Something tells me I should’ve been this way the whole time. — Alexis, 35, Boston

Singles are highly self-aware, though: In a recent study involving 648 American singles, participants cited fear of getting hurt, poor flirting skills, and being too picky as among the top reasons why many believed they remained uncoupled. (The researchers lumped these concerns together under the category “low capacity for courtship.”)

Larger issues only compound the challenge. With rates of anxiety and depression rising among young adults, putting oneself at risk of rejection—perhaps repeatedly—is more daunting than ever. For a generation that feels poorly equipped to deal with heartbreak, retreat may seem like the best, or only, option—but that choice, exacerbating loneliness and insecurity, only further burdens their fragile mental health.

What hope do we have? I am not of the mind that dating apps are all bad. They are great for people intentionally looking for someone outside of their core community, and they offer real opportunities for connection to people with niche dating preferences. However, I encourage clients to balance time on the apps with experiences out in the world, like bringing a book to a coffee shop or strolling in the park. I coach them on how to make eye contact with people in a way that indicates interest without being off-putting. I remind them that we can’t ever know love without experiencing some pain, and I offer tools to cope with heartbreak.

At no point in our history have romantic relationships satisfied our every need or gelled without partners having to overcome some level of adversity. Even the happiest-ever-after rom-com couples typically start off disliking each other—and certainly experience several “ick-worthy” interactions before realizing they might actually be falling in love. Rom-com plots often strain credulity, but in this respect, they could be important models.

Snap judgments are not always accurate. Chemistry is not always instant. Attraction can take time. Instead of writing people off based on a single imperfection, we need to allow room for depth and connection. This means giving people second (or third) chances, looking beyond the surface, and internalizing the reality that love is not about perfection but compatibility—and effort.

We also need to change the way we think about rejection. Being turned down does not mean we are unworthy or unlovable; it means that one person was not the right fit. Instead of fearing judgment, we can start to perceive dates as opportunities for growth and self-discovery.

Love has always been messy and unpredictable. It requires patience, vulnerability, and a willingness to accept both highs and lows. If dating feels onerous today, perhaps it’s not because love has changed but because we have. In stepping away from a transactional mindset and adopting one that allows for imperfection, surprise, and serendipity, we may just rediscover the joy of authentic connection.

Emily Jamea, Ph.D., LMFT, LPC, is a sex and relationship therapist and author of the book, Anatomy of Desire: Five Secrets to Create Connection and Cultivate Passion.

Dating in this decade is the most shallow and confusing experience. People want all the benefits of a relationship—care, respect, dates, and physical intimacy—but are unwilling to commit. Even when there’s mutual interest, I’ve encountered men who chose detachment over commitment and were content without having anything substantial. At the same time, I’ve observed women who lower their standards so much and become so vulnerable and available that men begin to think that asking for the bare minimum, like staying in touch while dating, is asking too much; they can get laid without it. For someone who values depth, it feels almost impossible. It’s as if everyone wants companionship but no responsibility, making dating feel immensely unfulfilling. — Alisha, 25, Toronto, Canada

2 Ways to Date With Less Pressure

By Bruce Y. Lee

Singles today report feeling too pressured to make a love connection in a dating market where rejection is pervasive, control elusive, and fun scarce. Perhaps breaking out of one’s usual patterns for lower-stakes encounters is a good way to restore some joy, surprise, and freshness to the process. Consider these two trends:

Contra-dating is intentionally dating people outside of, or even the opposite of, your normal “type.” For many singles, two primary challenges are being too picky or consistently seeking a type that may just not be a good fit. Shaking things up could help someone recognize and move past those obstacles.

If someone had strictly limited themselves to red-haired women, for example, or to men over six feet tall, maybe dropping those standards could help them understand that when they’re feeling down, a fair complexion or a six-pack won’t comfort them; an empathetic partner will.

Others perhaps decided that they could never date someone who didn’t love gaming, doing the Sprinkler on the dance floor, or rising for a bike ride at 6 a.m. every day. But limiting one’s dating pool based on narrow interests eliminates a majority of potential partners. Besides, someone with different interests can expand your horizons; you may even come to relish their particular passions.

Even when contra-dating, there are things you shouldn’t compromise on, like your core values, ethics, and most closely-held beliefs. But it’s never a bad time to review your other must-haves, see how musty they may have become, and trim that list to a few core criteria.

If you’ve never stepped outside your comfort zone, you may not realize what you could actually be comfortable with. Contra-dating isn’t about dating the opposite of what’s right for you; it’s just about dating the opposite of what you’ve looked for so far.

Dating for the plot describes an attitude of being more adventurous and less transactional about dating, more willing to risk a bad date for the story it will generate, and perhaps becoming more comfortable with yourself in the process. It’s a concept that has made the rounds on social media as part of a broader philosophy of making life experience more of a driving factor in one’s daily decisions.

Dating for the plot is like clicking a random show on Netflix rather than sticking to your watch list. It could be a miss, but there are still advantages to ditching your usual approach, like exposure to different perspectives, interests, and activities. There’s also a reduced risk of disappointment: It’s a lot easier to find someone interesting to add to your story collection than to find a soul mate, not to mention more fun and relaxing.

The more you get out there, even if those dates don’t lead anywhere special, the more confident and open you may become—qualities that could make you a more attractive partner; at minimum, maybe you’ll revise your own dating app profiles to remove some of your narrower prerequisites for potential partners.

Dating for the plot could bring problems. Treating other people as nothing more than sources of entertainment could waste their time, especially if they believe you’re leading them on. And dating for the plot should not mean committing to evenings you know you wouldn’t like. You don’t need to endure an evening with a bigot to confirm that you wouldn’t want to date one, or spend an afternoon tagging buildings with graffiti to know it makes you uncomfortable. Moderation is key, even while seeking the next unforgettable chapter in your life story.

Bruce Y. Lee, M.D., M.B.A., is a professor of health policy and management at the City University of New York School of Public Health.

I find dating apps harder than ever. When I was younger, I had two serious relationships come from them, but I think people my age there now are all possibly scarred from past relationships, including myself. And it’s tough deciding whether to give someone a chance based almost entirely on photos. Prompts and bios barely scratch the surface of who someone really is—and people are afraid to be truly authentic in their profiles. No one wants to end up screenshotted in a group chat. Even once you match, it takes effort to get past the talking phase. The conversations feel like mini-interviews. I try to remind myself I have all of my 30s to find my person, but the longer I go without success, the scarier it feels. — Megan, 32, Manchester, UK

The Non-Relationship Situationship

By Theresa E. DiDonato

Confusing, frustrating, anxiety-inducing—call it what you want, but hanging out in the tenuous space between singlehood and partnered life isn’t easy. When something seems to be starting up with someone, how do you know if you’re headed toward a full-fledged romantic relationship or poised to remain in non-labeled territory? In other words, are you falling in love or falling into a situationship?

That term first emerged when writer Carina Hsieh used it to describe a “hookup with emotional benefits” in 2017. While some essence of that definition persists, the term is trending today more as a description of something that isn’t nothing but also isn’t a relationship.

A situation suggests context dependence, as if people keep finding themselves together without intentionally choosing to be with each other. This differs from relationships, of course, which transcend a single context—partners influence each other across areas of life—and are grounded in intentionality: “I choose you.”

In a situationship there’s a “thing” going on, but it’s not desired enough, meaningful enough, or certain enough to be called a relationship. It’s something people find themselves in, not something they’re building. The term situationship captures an ongoing attraction that one or both people experiencing it cannot or will not label.

Reasons to Avoid a Label

If you’re with someone, why not call it a relationship? Some people eschew such labels because they have no interest in outsiders’ judgments. For them, being “us” is something only “we” define, and if they’re happy, that’s all that matters.

Other people avoid a label so that they won’t be subject to the expectations that come with it. It’s easier to ignore Valentine’s Day or go solo to a friend’s wedding when the person you’re spending time with doesn’t expect any more of you.

Some people want a degree of connection but not a full-fledged relationship. What they really prize is freedom. Staying in a situationship, they avoid having to do more than they are willing to.

What Situationships Lack

Traditional romantic relationships include emotional intimacy, sexual activity, and commitment. They also require active, ongoing maintenance and cause considerable heartbreak if they dissolve.

As for situationships, recent research led by Mickey Langlais of Baylor University provides critical new insight. When it comes to affection, sexual behaviors, and communication, the team found, situationships actually do not differ much from relationships. This fascinating discovery helps explain how confusing a situationship can be for people who are becoming close to someone else. When situationships mirror relationships in such fundamental ways, it’s no wonder people sometimes don’t know where they stand.

Still, the team found, situationships do differ from relationships in a few important ways: They are less likely to involve formal dates, gift-giving, meeting family, or talking about the future. They are more likely to generate feelings of jealousy and doubt; more likely to be on-again, off-again; and more likely to simply fade away.

The critical difference is commitment: Relationships come with clarity and the promise of a future; situationships do not.

How Situationships Disguise Themselves

How can you tell if a new something will become a relationship or remain a situationship? The early stages of both are characterized by uncertainty, so being vulnerable and taking risks remain necessary steps in finding out if a pairing might become a couple. Soon enough, a positive trajectory emerges or a connection stagnates.

One factor that may explain why people stall in situationships is relationship readiness. If one’s readiness is low and they’re able to experience affection, sexual intimacy, and some emotional connection with someone without commitment, why change that status? Situationships tend to end because of an asymmetry in desire for commitment. If you’re in one and want more, a partner’s relationship readiness will
probably cement your decision to stay or move on.

Theresa E. DiDonato, Ph.D., is a social psychologist and a professor of psychology at Loyola University Maryland.

Modern dating is a master class in cognitive dissonance. We crave deep connection but swipe away potential partners over trivial details, convinced there’s something better. We want stability but chase the unavailable, mistaking inconsistency for excitement. We expect emotional security, yet glorify playing it cool and pretending we don’t care. Then we blame the other person for rejecting us, ignoring how often we sabotage connection out of fear of getting it wrong. The real problem isn’t rejection; it’s the absence of intention. Love isn’t found in the illusion of endless options. It’s built in the courage to choose, invest, and show up, even when it’s easier not to. — Dean, 39, Sydney, Australia

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