How Hinge Dates turned into Exchange Rates
I’ll preface this article by assuring you I’m not out of my mind; I’m just a girl who’s very skilled at rationalising her delusion.
God forbid a woman have a little optimism.
But yes, you heard me right: Europe did, in fact, get an invite to my Hinge dates. While to some, these spontaneous trips may look irrational, like I accidentally mixed up data roaming with date roaming, to me, they helped me connect with a version of myself I’ve always wanted to know.
At that point, choosing what to do after university felt like staring at a Ryanair departures board after too many Aperol Spritzes: too many options, none entirely sensible, and I was convinced a spontaneous flight would solve everything.
It didn’t. But maybe it was a good start.
I Support Women’s Rights. So Why Do I Still Need a Man to Fancy Me?
I could tell you exactly how many men looked at me on a night out with the girls. Not because I have Spidey senses or I’m particularly observant, but because I was conducting a real-time self-performance review. Every time a man glanced in my direction, I was ready to forgive every minor inconvenience life had ever thrown at me.
It’s deeply embarrassing.
Dating apps have only amplified the problem by turning validation into a metric: every like, every comment, every match is another insatiable dopamine hit. It’s only when I stop to actually check my likes that I realise Bartholomew, the grave robber, probably isn’t my type.
Limerence: Sponsored by My Own Imagination
Why is it that my one-month situationship emotionally crippled me more than a four-year relationship?
The answer is potential.
When you go through the stages of a long-term relationship, the initial potential eventually becomes clear. You either exceed it or fall painfully short of it. Either way, reality comes knocking.
But when a budding romance gets cut short, that potential is left on delivered.
Your imagination takes over, directing a torturous highlight reel of hypothetical best moments. Your first holiday. Your engagement in the Italian countryside. Your wedding in the South of France. Three children and a golden retriever called Max.