If I were a perfect social-distancer, I would have stayed home. But I wouldn’t have Sam.

Romantic Intrigue VS Conflict

As a single person at the beginning of the pandemic, I didn’t envy my friends living with long-term partners. They reported quickly growing weary of being around each other constantly. In the trade-off between loneliness and conflict, I was happy with my choice. (Well, technically, it was my ex-boyfriend’s choice, if we’re being precise.) But as time continued to pass, isolation settled in, and I began to crave romantic intrigue.

Initially, I hadn’t planned on making any major life changes during the pandemic. I could keep my life on hold for a few months, I thought. But four months in, it didn’t seem like COVID-19 would be under control anytime soon. I began to accept that if I wanted a partner in the near future, I’d have to start dating. I re-downloaded a few dating apps for the first time in five months.

Men Were More Responsive

While the pandemic couldn’t change the quality of the men on the app, it did make the conversations easier. Instead of searching for topics that would hopefully elucidate our compatibility, my matches and I now had an all-encompassing shared experience to discuss. I tried to steer the early dialogue away from the magnitude of our global predicament, and we were able to find common ground over topics such as how we were keeping ourselves busy at home. The men were more responsive, likely because the shutdowns had left all of us with few obligations, clinging to any social connection we could find. If it took a global pandemic to get a guy to respond to my messages, so be it.  

Video-Dating

The new world of dating had so many positives, nearly every match I spoke with suggested a date, typically via video-dating. Video-dates are cost-free and come with almost no risk of wasting an evening—it’s much easier to politely end a video-date after only 45 minutes than it would be an in-person date. The only time commitment I made outside of the call itself was the five minutes it took to apply mascara, and I often scheduled two dates in a night to maximize my lashes.

I felt more in control on video-dates because I could choose how my dates saw me. Initially, I feared that the ability to see myself would be distracting. Instead, I was better able to concentrate on what my dates were saying, as I didn’t self-consciously wonder if anything was stuck in my teeth or if my arms were held at an unflattering angle. The men seemed looser too. Previously, the unwritten rule of first dates had been to never say the word date, but the virtual dating experience was so unusual that we were quick to openly debrief. I felt really vulnerable admitting to strangers that I was worried about my FaceTime dating skills, but we were all equally inexperienced, and many of them shared my insecurities.

Video-dating had its downsides. Some men seemed to think that they didn’t owe women the same amount of respect virtually as they did in the real world, which was already a relatively low bar. One man didn’t show up to our date and never explained why. Another asked immediately if I’d be comfortable having sex during the pandemic. Yet another drunkenly called me in a towel and tried to flash his genitals. Fortunately, I could hang up and blame the Wi-Fi. Overall, though, because of the convenience and safety—COVID-19 is not the only risk women face when dating in person—I might recommend that daters always start with a video-date, even when the threat of the coronavirus has diminished.

Flirting With My Mask On

After a successful video-date with someone, I’d schedule a masked and socially distant date. I felt stiffer and more awkward in a mask—I hadn’t realized how crucial a smile was until I tried to flirt without one. And when one man talked only about himself for two hours, I couldn’t deliver my most withering “Your words—they bore me” glare (the frown is crucial).

My dates and I had to navigate each other’s rules for this new normal. I’d had similar conversations with close friends, who were divided over how much contact was acceptable, but it was significantly more challenging with guys I barely knew. My desire to seem “fun” and “chill” on dates was incompatible with expressing my social-distancing boundaries. I seemed to offend one date by asking him to stand farther away from me. I apologized, as I’m often too quick to do, and then felt ashamed—I should be prioritizing safety.

After a few misses, I caught a good one. Sam and I video-dated for hours. He came over for a socially distanced date on my lawn, during which I called a doctor friend to ask about the safety of him using my bathroom. Sam patiently held his bladder during the call, and I gave him the okay. Near the end of May, we went on our third in-person date, and he brought up sex. He seemed to think it would be fun, and I agreed. But we got COVID-19 tests first.

A Deeper Critique of Character 

I suspected we were defaulting to monogamy, but I didn’t want to assume. I asked Sam if he was sleeping with anyone else. He seemed taken aback, and I understood his reaction. I was really asking not only whether we were exclusive, but whether he was exposing me to additional risks of contracting the virus. What was once a question I’d use to gauge whether a relationship was casual had become a deeper critique of his character. In a world in which going to the grocery store can kill you, is there even such a thing as “casual” dating or “casual” sex? Is anything casual anymore?

Click HERE to read the full article published on The Atlantic.

 

Over the past year, singles have had to deal with a bleak, minefield of a dating landscape thanks to the pandemic. We’ve sacrificed bar dates and one night stands and settled for distanced walks and kiss-less first dates. 

Hopefully now that the vaccine is rolling out and the weather is getting nicer, we won’t have to sacrifice much longer. For months and months we’ve predicted what post-pandemic dating will look like and soon, we’ll actually get to experience it. 

The Fear of the Unknown

The ambivalence about going back to ‘normal’ is already creeping up, from discussions of crowd anxiety to overall fear of socialising. Now, there’s a new phrase specifically for romantic ambivalence: Fear of Dating Again, or FODA. Hinge coined the term back in January but as winter melts into spring, this sentiment is only becoming more relevant. 

While there’s talk about this summer being wild with dating and hookups, reality won’t look like that for everyone. The fear and uncertainty of 2020 will likely find itself in unexpected parts of our lives even as shops and restaurants begin to return to normal. Given the mourning,  everything we’ve gone through — death, social upheaval, isolation, stress — we can’t expect to act the way we did before the pandemic. 

‘It’s completely understandable to be apprehensive’ about dating now, said Rachel DeAlto, relationship expert and chief dating expert at Match. Not only do we have the baggage from last year, but dating in 2021 also has unforeseen obstacles, like accessing a potential date’s COVID comfort level.

Setting Your Intention

How does one even know if they’re ready to date? DeAlto recommends looking inwards and assessing: Do you have the energy to swipe on apps, chat and meet new people? Do you have the capacity to date? 

If yes, set your intention. Do you want to hook-up or find a partner? This intention can of course change, but DeAlto believes goals are important at least going into dating because you’ll know what you’re looking for. 

Talking About COVID

Once you have your dating intention, then you have to figure out what you’re okay with in terms of COVID safety. Whether it’s only going on dates outside or requiring a ‘vaccination passport’ from your date, it’s ultimately up to you to decide.

While you might feel hesitant about discussing this with your match, DeAlto insists that it’s okay to have the conversation. It’s okay to not be comfortable doing what you did pre-pandemic. But have an unapologetically honest discussion with yourself and your matches about it, or else dating will be frustrating (at least, more frustrating than usual). 

Ultimately, know it’s okay if you’re not chomping at the bit to put yourself out there. The term FODA exists for a reason: It’s not just you. Social anxiety was prevalent even before the pandemic, so it’s understandable to be especially anxious after a year of physically not being around others. 

‘I don’t know if we’ve actually recognised how challenging it will be,’ said DeAlto on post-pandemic socialisation. She predicts social anxiety will persist, but has some dating tips for those with such anxiety and FODA. 

DeAlto’s 3 Tips

1. Show up in authentic ways. This is where being unapologetically honest comes in. If, for example, you don’t want to eat indoors, tell your potential date! It’s better to lose someone who can’t respect your boundaries than to be uncomfortable during a date.
2. Focus on being present. Humans are uncomfortable with the unknown — which is just one of many reasons the last year has been so difficult. It’s easy to fret about the future, but none of us know what’s going to happen; you can allow yourself to let that go, and concentrate on where you are now instead. 
3. Allow yourself to ‘baby step’ back out there. No one is saying you need to go on five dates a week or go to an extravagant orgy as soon as we hit herd immunity. You can take your time. 

Coming to Grips with the Change

As consumer and audience expert Jayne Charneski told Mashable in February, we’re all emerging from the pandemic as different people. Our outlooks and priorities have shifted and this is reflected in every aspect of life, including dating.

You’re more than allowed to feel FODA, but you don’t have to let it stop you if you truly want to date. Whether you want bar dates again or want to continue with park walks, post-pandemic dating can be personalised to fit you.

 

This article has been modified for Mai Tai. The original article can be found here.