The first time I was asked about boys, I was only 10 years old. This woman looked me in the eye and asked if I was ‘in love’ with any of my classmates yet. I wrinkled my nose in distaste and said no, to which she responded, “Just wait, soon they’ll be all you think about”.
As the years went by, my interest in romance did indeed appear, causing much adolescent angst and cringe-worthy interactions. Heteronormative dating was shoved down my throat at family functions, in the schoolyard, and every movie or TV show I watched, almost none of which passed the Bechdel test.
Having a boyfriend was a status symbol of desirability and popularity at my high school in the early 2000s. It didn’t matter how smart, funny, kind or interesting you were. If you couldn’t attract and keep the attention of a guy, you were automatically socially downgraded.
My first ‘romantic’ experience, when I was 14, and pursued by a boy a few years older, felt like relief; reassurance that I was finally ‘doing femininity’ correctly. Into my later teens and twenties, dating took up a lot of mental space. School, friends, and hobbies became secondary to attaining and keeping validation via the male gaze.
Looking back, it’s hard to tell which of these men I actually liked, and which I just dated because it felt so comforting to be desired – the only real way to prove to myself and the world that I was good enough.
Today, many women I know are challenging the idea that our worth hinges on whether a man wants to be with us. They are questioning the assumption that having a partner is the ultimate sign of a happy, successful life.
They are more aware than ever before of the downsides of romantic relationships, with some deciding that perhaps they aren’t worth the trouble after all.
The relationship recession: Are women done with dating?
Back when male validation was my main source of self-esteem, it wasn’t enough to get a man to want me. I also had to tell everyone about it. The thrill of changing my relationship status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘in a relationship’ was the ultimate flex. Long-winded, emotional status updates about every sweet gesture, milestone, or date night were standard practice. Not posting about your partner seemed like a suspicious red flag that something was amiss.
These days, it’s less common to share so openly about your relationship online. For some, it simply reflects valuing privacy in an increasingly online world, and understanding the importance of healthy boundaries regarding what we share on social media.
For others, self-reservation plays a role. We know that even the best partnerships don’t always work out, and some of us prefer to keep our online footprint clear of memories that may serve as painful reminders in the future.
This ties into an increasingly casual and low-effort, low-commitment approach to romance, the dreaded ‘nonchalant’ dating culture. In some cases, keeping a relationship private can be another way to avoid vulnerability or admit how deeply we care about finding lasting love or connection.
Being ‘chill’ is our new favourite euphemism for poor communication, situationships have replaced meaningful connections, and asking for what you want can get you slapped with the label ‘clingy’ or ‘needy’. A human being having needs? Embarrassing! Is it any wonder that some single women are de-centring romantic love, opting to remain single, and prioritising their careers, hobbies and friendships?
This shifting relationship culture doesn’t just affect those actively dating, it’s also impacting those in long-term relationships. Lately, my conversations with friends about our love lives have felt heavy and sceptical, even when masked with humour.
It’s not so much that more of us are having dramatic break-ups, but rather a deeper awareness of the ways some relationships are no longer serving us, or perhaps never did. There is a solemn acceptance of the idea that it may not work out, and a realisation that being single is better than being with someone who isn’t right for us.
Marriage rates in Australia have been steadily declining over the past 50 years, barring a slight uptick during the COVID pandemic. This timing correlation is interesting – does it show that marriage is more appealing in times of distress and uncertainty, when humans seek something solid to hold onto?
I used to think that marriage was a comforting notion; a formal commitment that could not easily be broken. But I know now that ending a long-term relationship, sad as it may be, is always better than staying in an unhappy partnership out of fear or convenience.
"Today, many women I know are challenging the idea that our worth hinges on whether a man wants to be with us. They are questioning the assumption that having a partner is the ultimate sign of a happy, successful life."
The online dating hellscape: How social media impacts IRL love
The unprecedented popularity of dating apps and websites has also accelerated and highlighted the cultural shifts in how we see love and dating. The ease, lowered vulnerability, and low cost (emotional and fiscal) of virtual dating have a strong appeal in a time of low emotional capacity, high burnout rates, and astronomical costs of living.
Online dating can be fun, efficient, and educational. But sadly, these apps also create the illusion of endless choice, encouraging quantity over quality of interactions. It has exacerbated low-effort dating, leaving many of us exhausted and fed up with accepting the bare minimum.
It’s seen as a big ask to be treated with basic decency, open communication and respect, even when the relationship is new, casual, or non-monogamous.
I wonder if we’re currently experiencing growing pains, as we adapt to a world where fewer women rely on men financially or for validation. Where we are unwilling to accept a subpar relationship out of fear of being alone. Maybe our confusion is the prerequisite for a mass realisation of how lonely it is to be with the wrong person.
Many of us have finally unlearned the patriarchal trope that there’s nothing sadder than a single woman, particularly in mid to later life. Someone who uses her time, energy, money and online space to pursue meaningful friendships, social activism, or fulfilling hobbies is no longer a piteous figure, but one who has made the choice to broaden her ideas of how to create a meaningful life for herself. She is one to admire.
Does wanting a boyfriend make me a bad feminist?
Traditional marriage and relationship structures originate from a time when it was the only way for women to avoid social shunning and financial destitution. It wasn’t so long ago that women couldn’t work, have bank accounts or own property other than by proxy of a father or husband. The increased access to women’s financial independence has naturally decreased the imperative to find a partner, of any quality, by any means.
In a time of greater social awareness of the importance of gender equality, some women may worry that having or wanting a boyfriend signifies lingering internalised misogyny or adherence to conservative, outdated ideas of gender and relationship norms.
As we grow to embrace more diverse identities and ways of living, is wanting a traditional partnership with a man embarrassing? Does it make us uncool or cringe? Or have we wildly overcorrected from prioritising men to our own detriment, to now being too scared to admit that we love our partners or enjoy having men in our lives?
The answer, of course, is: it depends. Stepping into our empowerment and reclaiming our identities from the clutches of the patriarchy doesn’t require rejecting dating altogether.
Rather, it’s an opportunity to realise that there is no singular ‘correct way’ to find love and fulfilment, and to unshackle yourself from the expectations of those around you. Your relationship structure can look however you want as long as it’s safe, legal and mutually consensual.
If, upon reflection, you realise you genuinely desire a conventional relationship, great. You now have the opportunity to pursue this in a way that doesn’t sacrifice yourself as an individual while going after the type of partner that adds value and love to your life. But for some, the cost-benefit analysis of dating as we have known it simply doesn’t make sense anymore. As a result, we have seen the rise of non-traditional relationship structures such as platonic life partnerships, ethical non-monogamy, and lifelong singledom.
We have also seen an increase in women ‘quiet quitting‘ their marriages or long-term partnerships, reducing the effort they put into making it work without actually separating.
You may be wondering if there is a difference between ‘quiet quitting’ a partnership without actually separating, and settling for a subpar relationship. I believe the distinction is whether or not it’s a conscious choice. There are many valid reasons someone may not want to separate from their partner, such as financial, child-rearing, logistical or legal factors. They may share genuine love and affection that is no longer romantic but highly functional and supportive in the context of their lives.
Perhaps the silver lining of the modern dating recession is the opportunity to rebuild what we see as ‘normal’ when it comes to love. Finding a relationship, or not, should be a way of finding an authentic emotional connection that feels safe and meaningful to you.
It’s not a way to prove that you can adhere to the ever-changing, narrow ideals of the ‘perfect’ partnership. We must avoid the temptation to make such big decisions based on cultural trends if we are ever to build a life that truly fulfils us.
If you want to give up on romantic love for now and buy a property with your best friend, go for it. If you want to take a break from serious commitments and play the field into your 80s, amazing. If you want to date in a traditional way, and post an hourly selfie under the hashtag #couplegoals, do that and ignore anyone who finds it lame.
If traditional dating no longer appeals or feels worth the effort, it doesn’t mean you must eschew relationships forever. Instead, you can learn to ask yourself what you truly want from your life and pursue it regardless of what others think of your choices.
