Let’s be real. Dating in college is basically a group project with zero communication, no rubric, and someone’s situationship showing up uninvited. If your love life has ever felt like a chaotic neutral game of Uno, where someone always ends up reversed, skipped, or wild carded, this one’s for you, babe.
I’m romantic but not delusional (maybeeee a ‘lil), goofy but spiritually grounded, and here to give you advice like your favourite unlicensed therapist who majored in vibes and minored in blocking people. This isn’t your momma’s guide to love (unless your mom was a Taurus with a tarot deck and trust issues). We’re talking real talk: the walking red flags in group chats, the green flags that glow like a rare Pokémon, and those dusty beige flags that whisper, “This isn’t that bad,” until you’re crying in the library over someone named Aryan who wears his AirPods during arguments.
Now listen: campus dating is the Hunger Games in athleisure. You’re out here dodging ghosters, lovebombers, and that one Business major who “doesn’t believe in labels” but will Paytm request you at Baba. One minute you’re walking to class all cute with your iced tea, the next you’re texting your friends, “If I go back to his flat again, punch me in the throat.” You know who you are.
We’re gonna unpack it all:
- The red flags: the bold, the blaring, the “he calls every ex crazy” types.
- The green flags: the unicorns who actually communicate, actually listen, and don’t treat their emotions like they’re on a limited data plan.
- And the beige flags: the ones that aren’t awful, but aren’t giving “you make me wanna delete Hinge.”
Like… yeah, he’s nice, but he claps when the plane lands. Beige.
She doesn’t believe in texting back within 48 hours? Beige.
They technically have a partner but say it’s “complicated”? BABY. That’s not complicated. That’s exam season. RUN.
Dating on campus is messy because we’re all growing, healing, and accidentally trauma-bonding with people who play acoustic guitar in the common room. But let’s be clear:
Having boundaries? That’s hot.
Communicating your needs? Revolutionary.
Not settling for mid just because you’re lonely during cuffing season? ICONIC.
So whether you’re in your lover girl era, your villain arc, or somewhere in between with a playlist called “healing but make it dramatic”, this guide’s for you.
Let’s laugh through the chaos, cry a little if we must, and stop texting people who don’t deserve our group project energy.
Are you ready to unpack the flag parade?
Let’s red-flag and roll.
🔴 RED FLAGS, AKA the walking “Do Not Disturb” signs.
We’ve all been there. Sitting cross-legged on your home girl’s floor, hoodie hood up, sipping lukewarm tea, phone in hand, rereading a message that says absolutely nothing but somehow still sent your serotonin into orbit. Babe. This is not love. This is delusion in a cute font. Actually, text fonts aren’t even cute. So… just delusion.
Red flags aren’t always massive waving banners. Sometimes they’re a quiet “lol” when you say you like someone, or a “I’m just not ready for something serious” while they rotate through three other people. These flags? They aren’t red because they’re dramatic. They’re red because they’ve been dipped in your own denial and slow-roasted in mixed signals.
Let’s break it all the way down. From the screamingly obvious 🚩 to the subtle “hmm something’s off” flags you pretend aren’t there, here’s your official list of things to stop excusing.
If they wanted to, they would… but they didn’t
Say it with your chest. Again. And again. You shouldn’t be chasing clarity like it’s a limited edition Stanley cup. People prioritise what they value. Full stop. If they wanted to see you, they’d make time. If they cared, you wouldn’t be decoding messages like it’s the Da Vinci Code at 2am. You deserve consistency, not confusion cosplayed as mystery.
Lovebombing is NOT love.
Here’s the thing: lovebombing feels magical… at first. They tell you you’re perfect, they send you 6 TikToks an hour, they call you “babe” before they’ve learnt your surname. But that intensity? That rush? It’s not connection. It’s manipulation in a sequin jacket.
Genuine love is steady, not overwhelming. It unfolds like a slow song, not a car alarm. If someone builds you up overnight, ask yourself what happens when they get bored. (Spoiler: the same hands that put you on the pedestal will push you off it.)
If he calls every ex “crazy”, you’re next.
A classic red flag in varsity packaging. If every woman he’s ever dated was “too emotional” or “obsessed,” maybe… just maybe, he’s the problem. It’s giving: gaslight on loop. It’s giving: refuses to reflect. And honestly? That’s the kind of man who thinks therapy is a threat and refuses to apologise unless it’s followed by “but you overreacted.”
Your future self does not have time to heal from a man who still thinks emotional intelligence is a buzzword.
Inconsistency is a choice, not a quirk.
One week they’re quoting poetry and planning weekend getaways, the next they’re replying with “k.” That’s not passion, babe, that’s emotional whiplash. Don’t confuse butterflies for anxiety.
If someone can’t match your energy, stop dimming your wattage to match their flickering bulb. You are not a backup plan, a just-in-case, or an afterthought in leggings. You are divine. Treat yourself accordingly.
If you gotta stalk their stories for clues, just RUN.
Nothing says “this isn’t working” like becoming a full-time detective in your own dating life. If you’ve ever watched someone’s Snapchat Story more than once to “make sure” they weren’t lying about their plans, congratulations: you’re dating a red flag.
Relationships should be rooted in safety, not surveillance. Trust should be the default, not the reward for good behaviour. If you don’t feel secure, that’s your sign; not a challenge to “hold on tighter.”
We are not impressed by late night texts.
We get it. A cheeky 2am “wyd” can feel like a rush. But here’s the reality: if someone only reaches out under cover of darkness, that’s not love, it’s scheduling convenience. They’re not thinking about you during the day when it actually matters: they’re treating you like a post-night-out afterthought.
And please, for the love of feminism and face masks, do not mistake late-night lust for intimacy. You are not a last-minute option. You are a fully booked headline act.
Their emotional maturity is still in beta testing.
If they shut down every time you bring up literally any feeling, they are not emotionally deep, they are emotionally deficient. We are not building fixer-uppers here. If they treat vulnerability like a malfunction, or call you “too much” for having standards, they are not ready to date, they are ready to journal.
You want someone who leans in, not logs out.
The ‘Situationship’ Olympics: Why are you jumping hurdles for bronze?
We need to talk about the non-boyfriend boyfriend. The “we’re just vibing” purgatory. The “I like you but I’m not ready for a relationship” routine… that drags on for months.
GIRL. This is not a training ground for commitment. You’re not on probation. You are not an unpaid intern in someone’s emotional start-up. Stop auditioning for a role they refuse to cast. If someone wants you, they’ll claim you. Period.
You don’t need to earn basic respect. If you’re already acting like a partner without the title, you’ve already given too much.
🎤 Let’s Wrap This Red Flag Recital Up…
If any of the above made your stomach flip in that “yep, I’ve been there” way, take it as divine confirmation. You are not crazy. You are not asking too much. You are simply starting to notice the flags for what they are: warnings, not challenges.
Red flags don’t mean “try harder.” They mean “turn around before your mental health files a formal complaint.” We’ve been taught to romanticise effort. To glorify pain. To think that struggling for love is somehow part of the plot. It’s not.
You are the story, not the subplot.
🟢 GREEN FLAGS are rare, precious and worth protecting.
After surviving the red flag trenches, green flags feel like magic. They don’t show up with fireworks and TikTok montages: they show up quietly, consistently, like a warm cup of tea made just the way you like it without asking. They show up in actions, not empty compliments. They say, “Hey, I’ve got you,” and actually mean it.
Green flags are what healthy looks like. Not perfect, not Pinterest aesthetic, but honest, kind, and safe. Let’s give them the flowers they deserve.
Texts you back before your battery dies? Green flag.
Look, it’s not about being glued to your phone. It’s about effort. When someone actually replies, without you having to send a follow-up “?” or throw your phone in the bin from stress, that’s attractive. Effort is the new six-pack. We don’t chase people who treat texting back like it’s optional. We fall for the ones who make you feel heard.
Bonus points if they double-text with confidence. That’s growth.
“Let’s talk about it” > “You’re too sensitive”
Nothing hits quite like someone who can handle a conversation. If you bring up a feeling and they lean in, not lash out, shut down, or ghost? Green. Flag. Glory. Emotional maturity isn’t boring, it’s rarefied air. And frankly, we love someone who doesn’t weaponise your vulnerability but holds space for it.
If they say “I hear you,” and you believe them? Whew. Let’s frame that.
Respectful of boundaries = Sexy
Them: “Let me know when you’re free, no pressure.”
You: Instantly swooning.
Boundaries aren’t walls, they’re welcome mats for people who actually get it. Someone who respects your time, energy, and capacity is not being “chill,” they’re being grown. They don’t push, test, or guilt-trip you. They honour your pace, your “not today”, and your “I need space” without turning it into a drama spiral.
We’re not out here romanticising bare minimum. We’re celebrating bare honesty.
Are they genuinely interested in your interests (yes, even your niche hyperfixation)?
Do they ask about your weird little hobbies? Do they remember you love frogs in suits or deep dives into 2000s British rock culture? GREEN. FLAG.
Interest doesn’t mean mirroring you, it means showing up for what makes you light up. Even if they don’t get your obsession with colour-coded notes or niche poetry memes, they still ask. That’s called being present. And it’s fit as hell.
Accountability > Apologies
Anyone can say “sorry.” The real ones show up differently next time. They don’t just promise change, they practice it. When someone messes up and owns it without defensiveness, without gaslighting, without flipping it back onto you? Write that down. Frame it.
Accountability is sexy. It means they respect your peace more than their ego. Green flag with a glitter overlay.
They don’t flirt with you like it’s a dare.
Flirting shouldn’t feel like you’re walking a tightrope in heels. The healthy ones don’t neg you, confuse you, or make compliments sound like insults wrapped in banter. A real green flag flirts with intention, not ambiguity.
They’re not playing games, they’re playing Spotify playlists with your name in the description. They flirt in a way that makes you feel wanted, not wounded.
They should ‘Safe Space’ energy, not ‘Escape Room’ vibes.
When you’re with them, it’s calm. It’s easy. You’re not decoding, overthinking, or shape-shifting. You’re just… you.Fully. Messy and magical and mid-laugh with biscuit crumbs on your jumper.
That’s not boring. That’s safety. That’s the stuff relationships should be made of. When they feel like a breather in a world that never stops sprinting? Keep them close. That’s soul-soothing, not soul-draining.
Therapy? Yes. Growth? Yes. Emotionally Available? YES.
Let’s normalise getting the ick from people who call therapy “soft.” The green flags are in their self-awareness era. They’ve unpacked their childhood wounds, or at the very least know they exist. They ask questions. They reflect. They say things like “I’ve been working on that.”
Growth is the bare minimum, but let’s be real, it’s still not as common as it should be. So if you find someone who’s doing the work? Greenest of flags. Hold that close.
🎤 Protect Your Green Flags Like Your Favourite Mug
Green flags don’t always come with fanfare. Sometimes they look like someone offering to walk you home. Sometimes they look like someone remembering your flatmate’s name. Sometimes they’re just calmness in a sea of chaos.
Let’s stop romanticising the red and start rooting for the green. We deserve love that feels like soft sunlight and steady rain, not lightning bolts and emotional whiplash.
You don’t need someone to complete you. You need someone who meets you where you are, and grows alongside you. That’s the real romance. That’s a love story worth writing.
⚪️ BEIGE FLAGS: The bland little behaviours that spiral.
Not every heartbreak starts with a red flag. Some begin with a shrug. A lukewarm “lol.” A vague plan that never happens. Beige flags are the middle ground between bare minimum and “barely hanging on.” They don’t offend you, but they don’t excite you either. And somehow, you’re six months deep in limbo, rationalising vibes that never vibed.
Let’s break down the “meh” in detail, because we’ve all been there. And babes, you deserve more than a human placeholder with Spotify Premium.
The “It’s fine” text that’s never actually fine.
You: “Hey, sorry I didn’t reply sooner!”
Them: “It’s fine.”
👀 Is it though? Because the vibe is giving passive-aggressive limbo. Beige flags live in this emotionally flat zone. They don’t say what they feel. They hint. They vaguely exist. You’re constantly decoding tones like it’s your part-time job. Spoiler: it’s exhausting.
Their entire personality is just their major.
No hate to architecture or psychology, but if someone’s only personality trait is “I study finance”, we’ve got beige in motion. You ask them what they’re passionate about, and they say “work.” You say you love the rain and they say “rain is just water falling.” Like… okay, philosopher king.
A full-time major, part-time personality? BORING. We need spice. Curiosity. Something that makes you go “wait, you’re into medieval lute music too??” Not just… coursework and vague ambition.
Mediocre effort, but you romanticise it anyway.
He sent you a “hope your day’s okay” text and now you’re planning the wedding. The bar is so low it’s basically in Hades.
Listen. Effort is only cute if it’s genuine and consistent. One kind act in a sea of indifference isn’t a green flag, it’s emotional camouflage. Beige flag energy is doing the absolute minimum and getting maximum credit because you’re doing mental gymnastics to make it seem deeper than it is.
That one playlist with redundant indie boy energy.
Look. We all love a little sad indie boy music. But if his “deep” playlist is 18 Bon Iver songs and one Lana track for diversity, you’re not dating a man with taste; you’re dating a mood board. Beige flags scream “I’ve felt emotions before” but can’t name one.
If every song is from 2012 Tumblr, but he still can’t talk about your relationship dynamic? Beige. Beige. Beige.
He doesn’t know your birthday, but knows every NBA stat.
You: “My birthday’s next week!”
Them: “Sick. Did you know LeBron’s shooting percentage is up?”
We love a sport king, but if they know every game stat and still forget the month you were born, it’s giving casual disrespect in a nice hoodie. This isn’t jealousy, it’s about priorities. Beige flags love to remember trivia but forget your love language.
You’re planning dates, they’re just… there.
You: “Let’s go to the rooftop café!”
Them: “Cool.”
And then they show up 10 minutes late, don’t Google the place, and spend the whole time on their phone.
Beige flag energy is when they participate in the relationship like it’s a passive activity. They don’t initiate. They don’t engage. They just… exist. You’re the planner, the driver, the emotional GPS. It’s a relationship, not a group project with you doing all the work.
Mumbles through feelings like they’re an optional assignment.
Asking them how they feel is like asking someone to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded. Beige flags avoid depth like it’s contagious. You want to talk about your love language and they respond with a shrug and “I dunno, we’re chillin’, right?”
You are not chillin’. You are spiraling. There’s nothing chill about never knowing where you stand because they treat feelings like a pop quiz they didn’t study for.
Their vibe is off but they’re tall, so you stay.
Let’s be honest. We’ve all excused beige behaviour because they were hot. Or tall. Or knew how to make good pasta. But babes… being six feet tall is not a personality. If someone’s whole vibe is “pretty but useless in a crisis,” you are dating a walking coat hanger with a skincare routine.
Do not let bone structure distract you from the fact that they’re emotionally flatlining.
🎤 Beige is Not a Foundation, It’s a Warning
The truth about beige flags? They’re slow burns that fizzle, not flames that warm you. You stay because it’s not “that bad,” and suddenly your standards have shrunk to fit someone who can barely hold a conversation about anything that matters.
Beige isn’t safe. It’s sedating. You get used to the lack of chaos and call it peace, but real peace feels like being seen, not tolerated. Loved, not just occupied.
Don’t stay in a beige relationship because it doesn’t hurt. Stay for love that makes you feel alive… not just not dead inside.
Final curtain call on the flag parade.
So here we are, babes. Red flags waving like sirens, green flags glowing like rare Pokémon, beige flags humming quietly in the background like a bad lo-fi playlist. You’ve officially got the decoder ring.
The truth? College dating will always be a carnival of chaos: part comedy, part horror film, part “wait, why am I crying over someone who still wears socks with holes in them?” But spotting the flags is your first line of defence.
Red flags don’t need your rescue mission.
Green flags deserve your care.
Beige flags? Eh. Cute for a fling, not for your long-term peace.
At the end of the day, you’re not here to be a traffic cop, babe, you’re the whole parade. Watch the flags, but don’t forget: you set the route.
Want more chaotic chronicles, caffeine-fuelled confessions, and campus survival cheat codes? Slide into Her Campus at MUJ, we’ve got the tea. And if you’re looking for the one still crying over a reddish beige flag in AB1, it’s probably me — Niamat Dhillon at HCMUJ.