We had high hopes for our post-lockdown dating season. Like, hundreds-of-metres-above-sea-level high.
Stay-at-home orders eased and businesses reopened, and in my dating fantasy, I thought I’d be basking in the evening sunshine, my hair blowing in the breeze, and my confidence positively over-brimming.
The reality of my first post-lockdown date had me shivering at a rain-drenched table, and listening intently as my date tried to regale me anecdotes as his teeth visibly chattered. I suppose my hair was blowing, but not so much in the breeze, but more of a howling gale.
Before you ask if it was like that scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral when Hugh Grant and Andie MacDowell are standing in the rain and someone says, “Oh is it still raining, I hadn’t noticed?”, rest assured I would be writing a very different article right now if it had borne any resemblance.
As for my confidence levels, I can faithfully say I’ve hit my nadir. With the deeply damaging, diet culture-derived pressure to suddenly be “hot girl summer” ready and to get your “pre-pandemic body back”, I can feel my body image issues (which were already Not Great before the pandemic) worsening. The newfound freedom that came with the relaxing of lockdown restrictions in the UK didn’t make me want to run into the streets and snog the nearest available singleton, it made me want to hide away. Which, 14 months into a global pandemic, isn’t exactly the post-vaccine vibe I’d been hoping for.
Even if your date is going well, then there’s the faff of scrambling to find somewhere else to go when your two-hour table booking runs out and you’re forced to beg the waitstaff to let you stay a little longer, or wander the streets in the hope of a walk-in while your date traipses behind you.
Our expectations for post-lockdown dating were high. Understandably so! We’ve been pacing the floors of our homes, legally not allowed to have sex with people outside our households, salivating over the erotic fantasy of our future romantic and sexual freedom. I had pictured myself strutting towards the dating scene in a cute dress, bursting with self-assurance. But life is not a Beyoncé music video. And I don’t feel confident enough to strut right now. At a time when I should be thanking my body for carrying me through a pandemic, for surviving and giving me the energy I needed, instead, I want to hide it out of sight. Uncomfortable as it is to admit, I showed up early to the date so I could make sure I was sitting down when my date arrived. I’m working on my self-esteem with a therapist, but this moment really crystallised just how bad it’s got this past year.
In our rose-tinted vision of the future of dating, we might have conveniently forgotten just how rocky the road to love actually is. Dating again means going on bad dates, meh dates, and not-quite-sure-yet dates. The quest for love comes with vulnerability, rejection, confidence knocks, and bruised hearts. Every once in a while, you’ll get a date that will make you feel drenched in a golden glow so intense that you’ll commit it to memory. But before you get there, you might have sit at a few tables with people who are perfectly nice, but just…not the one for you.
As Dr Audrey Tang, chartered psychologist and author of The Leader’s Guide to Resilience, tells me, it’s pretty understandable that getting back to dating is riddled with a number of mindset issues, like “what do we talk about?” “what am I looking for?” and the feeling that you’ve got to make up for “lost time.” Getting back in the game is daunting, but there’s also a lot to be hopeful for. “We all got a year older, and while age can be a factor in prompting us to think more broadly on our long term wants, so too can a year in which many of us recognised what was valuable to us,” says Tang.
Mashable’s Anna Iovine recently reported that Tinder is predicting the future of dating will be a lot more honest. Tang echoes this, stating that if your focus is on finding something long-term, or some short-term, no-strings fun, honesty with your dating partner(s) is the best policy. “This lack of a ‘game’ may even help you make the connections you want where everyone knows where they stand,” Tang adds.
If your date really was an anti-climax, don’t be downhearted. Instead, look at your disappointment as a gift. “If the date goes wrong, don’t worry — better you know now than later when you are already invested,” says Tang. “Plus, if you reflect on it when you feel less emotional (whether that be upset, anger, embarrassment and so on) that experience has simply become an opportunity to level up your game.”
If you’re grappling with a sense of urgency and pressure to put yourself out there, you’re not alone. I recently wrote about the pandemic making our personal lives feel like an insurmountable, daunting to-do list. Tang urges caution in allowing that pressure to inform the choices you make. “That sense of anxiety and urgency can affect our judgment and decision making,” she says. “An extra moment to pause (even after the year) and ask ‘Is this what I really want?’ can save much longer in fretting or regret.”
Putting yourself out there after a few months — or maybe even a year — of a dating hiatus takes real courage and immense vulnerability. So, if you’re anything like me and you feel your return-to-dating didn’t go off with a bang, but instead a rather feeble, soggy flop, take heart. You’ve taken the first step, and there’s a lot to be said for that.