a case for casual dating

there is something especially romantic about something present, and temporary. it allows you to take in the entirety of the moment, in constant fear it will be your last.

Contrary to popular belief, casual dating has always existed under different names. Nonetheless, lovers, flings, and situation-ships alike are the labels we give to our “unlableable” partners. So why, in an age of progressiveness, do we still long for the “classic” love stories of the 50s, and who’s to say they ever really existed?

Between the anti-aging treatments, cryopreservation, and uploading our consciousness into computers, it is clear that, as a society, our obsession with immortality has translated to our obsession with permanence. We believe that in order to have a good thing, this good thing must last forever because how are we to survive mourning it. Our attachment to friends, family, hometowns, careers, and romantic partners has left us maimed with anxieties surrounding our ultimate future.

When scrolling on social media, I have been plagued with black-and-white photos and teenagers complaining about the lack of real love. As a young woman, I have to roll my eyes at these people. My grandmother was married when she was younger than I am today. She felt a societal pressure to get married; back then women did not even have the right to open their own credit card, purity culture ran rampant, and women did not have the same career opportunities we do today. Frankly, they did not even have the ability to date around, to move around, and to find someone who matches their values. Instead, becoming a wife was transforming yourself into someone’s matching puzzle piece.

When I asked her about her first marriage, she told me that when you get married young, you risk “outgrowing each-other.” Someone can be your perfect person for years, but life is long and we change — we SHOULD change. However, as stated earlier, with Gen-z growing up in such tumultuous times, we like to hold tight to what and who we can. Which brings us to the hated situationships.

I hate the word as much as the next person. I have also actively engaged in “situationships” in the past. However, contrary to popular belief, casual dating has always existed. What has changed is society’s perspective. Despite constant complaints about so called «  hookup culture » young adults are having less sex than ever. The reason we find ourselves so upset, is actually because we’ve seperated love, care, and emotions from dating — that is what we crave and why we blame casual dating.

Even in the language of how we refer to our partners reflects our emotional separation from dating. In the post-mortem of a relationship, it is easier to call them a “situation” than something that implies you cared. The issue with modern day casual dating is that it intends to extricate the sex from the context of a human relationship. We are unfortunately incapable of that. Perhaps we believe that some of us are capable of this Frankenstein replication, whereas the people who we think are capable of this, just actually dislike their partner. It is not that they do not feel anything for them, rather they feel slight annoyance.

But again, I’d argue that actual causal dating is not the culprit, it is our fear of actually loving each-other. We look to the fifties where people have less choices, they had to love eachother, for the sake of societal norms. Women especially should be grateful that we can leave, we can live alone, and we have the choice of who we open our hearts to.

One of my best dating experiences was a casual relationship I had with a friend. We had known each-other since fourth-grade, and after losing contact for eight years we reconnected after I sent him a “hail Mary” text message. Despite growing up side by side for years, in that last summer we had together, it felt like I had known him for the first time. He was the first boy I had trusted my dreams with.

That summer was undeniably fun. We went stargazing every night; we went on hikes together; we snuck into the restaurant he worked at after hours. I am not ashamed to say that some of my favorite high school memories were shared with him, and I am not ashamed to say I cared for him deeply. It was three months of learning more about myself, and about what I wanted from partners in the future.

Yes, we all crave those earth-shaking, and world-changing loves, but perhaps not everyone needs to be that. Perhaps finding people we care about, and have fun with in our youth can teach us more than we give them credit for. Additionally, I think we should look to the amazing things that exist now, rather than look back on the past with rose tinted glasses.