I don’t need to tell you that modern dating is a hellscape — you feel it in the Tinder-sponsored eye strain and thumb aches, vomit-inducing “u up?” text, and each gut-wrenching failed situationship (that you thought was building toward a beautiful relationship but turned out to be just a casual never-ending talking stage?). The soul-crushing mind maze that gets passed off as intimacy is enough to make even the most ardent hopeless romantic denounce it all — and some have.
Lover girls — devout monogamists committed to a fairy tale relationship filled with courtship and companionship — are in crisis. Capitalism-ridden, social-media dependent societies that incentivise hyper-individualism, secrecy, deception, and robotic emotions have made love feel elusive. The disposability of hook-up culture has left many dejected. Giving up on emotional reciprocity in relationships, more women have instead chosen to approach dating like an economic enterprise.
Nowadays, trying to find a partner feels like running a start-up. You carefully curate your image like a sales agent devising digestible and alluring images that will hook people in during the seconds that they’ll spend apathetically examining you like an advertisement. On top of that, people tell you to keep a roster of at least five people who you alternate between throughout the week, but wait, also don’t devote too much energy to one person, and most importantly never be honest about how you feel — especially if you get attached. It’s Machiavellian. I’m exhausted. God forbid you show human emotions like disappointment or anger lest you be labeled clingy, co-dependent, or obsessive.
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The emotionally barren wasteland of a dating scene has manifested in a surge of “sad girl music” over the past couple of years. Discovering — or re-discovering — the works of artists like Fiona Apple, Amy Winehouse, Lana Del Rey, SZA, Mitski, and Phoebe Bridgers, younger generations have resonated with the themes of romantic alienation and despondence in their music. Their discography feels molded to a generation of often going viral through short snippets on TikTok. These devastating ballads about draining one-sided relationships have the quality of what Phoebe Bridgers described as “wanting-to-be-stepped-on”: settling for the pain because at least you are being touched and thus not alone. Think of Katie Gregson-MacLeod’s viral single “complex (demo)” — which started off as a cover of Phoebe’s “Punisher” and evolved into an original song with lyrics like “I’m not feeling human, I think he’s a good guy.” Similarly, new singer-songwriter Sarah Kinsley track “The Giver” sees her sing: “I’m a giver, he’s immune.” The widespread virality of these songs, dueted by celebrities and young women in their bedrooms who often add their own verses, inspired by their own shitty relationships, is testament to their unfortunate relatability. The comment sections on these videos double as awareness-raising forums. When thousands of women are sharing similar stories about the inconsiderate men in their lives, it becomes clear that this goes beyond their individual relationships.
“Call it parasocial hysteria, but this constant bombardment of failed love definitely has to have an impact on your psyche”
Social media has given us greater access to a deluge of horror stories about infidelity, men abandoning their wives after a cancer diagnosis or when they get wealthy enough to leave them. The sensationalism of these platforms push these often extreme tales on your timelines and can make it seem like every relationship is doomed to fail. It doesn’t help that when a man cheats on his wife (Ned from Try Guys) or leaves her for another woman (John Mulaney) it becomes a part of a frenetic social media based news cycle, especially when this man has made loving his wife so integral to his public identity. Call it parasocial hysteria, but this constant bombardment of failed love definitely has to have an impact on your psyche.
And as well-meaning as they seem, the numerous male dating coaches on social media, who seemingly break bro code to give women an inside glimpse into men’s behaviour, have made it difficult to not read into body language, passing comments, and frequency of communication — “was he really taking a ‘nap’ or was he chillin’ with his girlfriend” a video reads. When someone doesn’t text you back for a few hours or takes too long to commit, it’s difficult not to hear the voices of these men replay in your head telling you that you’re a placeholder until they find a better person or that, in the oft-repeated mantra of social media, “if he wanted to he would.” Though these accounts can help people spot manipulation tactics and red flags before entering a potentially harmful relationship, they often don’t take into account the nuances and complicated nature of human behavior. What’s more, they create an unhealthy aura of hyper-vigilance. Like, what if he was simply taking a nap?
It’s perhaps inevitable that an adversarial attitude to love, a “get them before they get you” mentality has emerged. Countless videos celebrate “getting their lick back” (revenge) on an unfaithful partner. Men’s unfaithfulness, in this framing of love as war, has become a sort of given. After Jay-Z cheated on Beyoncé and Emily Ratajkowski’s husband cheated on her, a slew of videos asked what chance so called ‘normal’ women have to avoid the same fate. It isn’t a question of if your man is going to cheat, for this side of the algorithm, it’s when. To prepare for this predestined betrayal then, women are expected to spot all the signs and get even if they get an inkling that it is about to happen.
The relationship advice espoused online often feels like a how-to guide on securing not fulfilling love or relationships but instead a sugar daddy. Sahar Khorram, a dating coach on TikTok, gives women tips on how to find and date wealthy men. She advises women to lean into their “softness” and seek men out with a “provider mentality”. Some women have also started using dates as an opportunity to network for their careers as opposed to for love. Self-help books like Why Men Love Bitches — which has found a devoted fan base on TikTok over 20 years later — incentivise women to behave callously as a way to condition men in an almost Pavlovian technique to respect them. This is by no means a moral judgement against the women who opt for these types of techniques. The inclination to make these kinds of financial transactions the basis of a partnership just speaks to the desolate state of romance (and capitalism) in our society. “If you get played at least you get a good return on your investment,” Khorram explains.
Being a lover girl requires a great deal of vulnerability, but even that is a great risk in our current socio-political climate. On an episode of General Anxiety: Love in the Digital Era writer and activist Nikki Giovanni urged our generation to move away from a transactional view of love: “You don’t find love … It isn’t lost. You give it and somebody will take it.” With this kind of wisdom in our arsenal, a new kind of lover girl has emerged from the ashes of the former — this time more hopeful than hopeless.
The one benefit of a crisis is its reconstructive possibility. Our conventions in ruins, we are forced to reevaluate dogmas and reassemble new world views. For many, Black feminists like bell hooks have been their reorientation guide. Scroll through any social media platform you’ll find people posing with All About Love, tweets poking fun at how it has become almost a fad to read bell hooks, and thousands of videos of people reciting quotes from the book, often finding their way to it after a particularly traumatising breakup. hooks noted “Young people are cynical about love. Ultimately, cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart.”
In “There’s Nothing Hopeless About Being a Romantic” Honey & Spice author Bolu Babalola makes a case for a steadfast commitment to the lover girl ethos. “In reality, being a romantic is edgy, resilient, courageous,” she says. “Healthy romanticism is loving yourself enough to know that you deserve what you desire.” This could look like decentering male validation and refusing to settle for half-assed relationships.
Communal love, platonic love, and familial love are important and very much needed but so is romance. We’re starved of affection. Gen-Zers have been devouring romance novels by Emily Henry and Colleen Hoover at an alarming rate these past couple of years, so the desire for passion and partnership is there. It’s only when we stop treating relationships like an outlet to exercise dominance and control that we can become the corny lovers we’re secretly yearning to embody.