I don’t know anyone who is in a relationship. Sociologically, this puzzles me. I thought (naively so, I suppose) that when I touched down onto one of the most populous and diverse cities in the country, I would be faced with a wild array of potential romantic partners. And yes, there was potential. There is still potential. There’s only potential!
Coming from an extremely small town, I knew just about everyone. I also knew enough about them to know that none of them were viable romantic options. My pool of options was completely and utterly barren. And no, that’s not all I was thinking about, but moving throughout life as a teenager into the beginning of young adulthood without romantic attention does numbers on your brain and self-perception.Â
When I moved to New York and started having more romantic experiences, I didn’t know how to navigate them. What was supposed to be a fun, explorative playground quickly became more confusing and complicated than I thought it would be. Where were all the butterflies and rainbows?
I’ve come to realize that initially I was programmed to operate under a scarcity mentality. The minute I found someone who showed me an inkling of romantic attraction, I viewed it as absolute and something that I couldn’t let go of. That was precisely the problem: I was blind to any actual incompatibility and desperately desired this “coveted thing” I had missed out on for years. I was obsessed with making it happen (regardless if the person and I had absolutely anything in common).Â
But, even now…even (mostly) healed from this internal torture…I am still haunted. Though I no longer settle for any guy who shows me attention, and there’s some great satisfaction in that, I still find myself in a city where no one is ever satisfied.Â
I think it’s because we’ve just got too many options. I say we because I’m also guilty. I see my future husband at least five times a day—in five completely different people. In the grocery store, on the street, through a window…even…dun dun dun…online.Â
How’s that for oversaturation? Now all the extremely attractive people aren’t only out-and-about, but they’re at our fingertips in endless droves too! That won’t be an issue for our mental and emotional processing at all!
Look, again, I’m complicit. I have used the apps. I may actively have one of them on my phone as I’m writing this (Get me out of here!). This combination of big city + vast world of online dating makes a dangerous cocktail. It’s a constant carousel, and no one can pick which horse they want (There’s got to be a better metaphor for this).
My mind is drifting particularly to the messages aspect. A reply here and there, a date offer that falls through, “I’m just so busy,” and then: the inexplicable unmatch. What did you say wrong, you think? You had a good thing going. Here’s your answer: they had to make room for someone else, and you were next on the chopping block. Why? Because there are just so many attractive people, so logically they must be able to find someone better, right?
This illusion of choice is a detriment, and it’s the flip side of the same coin that I was experiencing before I moved here. There’s such a thing as not enough, but there’s also too much. Where the middle ground is found I don’t yet know. I’m on the carousel too, it seems.
If I could give it a stab: We all just need to decide which horse we want and want them because they’re a good horse.