500 days of….mixed signals
when i was a kid, i would watch all the romcoms with my sister- legally blonde, 13 going on 30, never been kissed. watching those movies created this whole view of love in my brain and what it should look like. you know, the guy meets girl, something messes up the dynamic, and it results in running after the love of your life with a giant love-confession speech immediately followed by an epic kiss with cheesy (but also really good, in my opinion) music playing in the background. i would fantasize about having that moment in my own life, even though i was probably only 12 years old, and wonder what my own significant love story would look like.
aside from those movies, i was also a firsthand witness to my sister’s relationship. her high school sweetheart was another reason my standards became so high. i watched him ask her to dances, and those dances eventually turned into an epic proposal. they had that best-friend dynamic. they were always laughing, always having fun together, and genuinely seemed to enjoy just existing beside each other. between the movies and watching my sister, i knew i wanted to find my own version of that story someday.
as i got older and entered the dating scene (pre-social media), dating itself seemed to carry more intention. there was effort. there was vulnerability. people wanted to know each other beyond a few curated photos and a couple of prompts on an app. it felt like people were actually trying to build something instead of constantly wondering if there might be something “better” one swipe away.
the dating scene in today’s world is a mess. it’s a continuous game that is fucking exhausting, filled with unspoken rules: don’t text first, because then you’re too eager. don’t double text, because then you’re annoying. don’t respond too quickly; let the message “marinate” so you don’t seem too interested. don’t show too much excitement about getting to know someone, because apparently that takes away the chase.
and then let’s say you finally do meet someone. the odds are they come with their own baggage (which, to be fair, we all do). but the minute things start becoming emotionally intimate, someone backs out. suddenly vulnerability becomes “too much.” feelings become something people dance around instead of communicating directly. it feels like people want the benefits of connection without the responsibility of actually sustaining one.
we pour our time, hearts, and emotions into someone only to eventually hear, “i’m not sure what i want,” or “i’m not ready for commitment” after months or years of building a life with them. and maybe what makes it all feel so exhausting is that people often know this far earlier than they admit it. instead of having the difficult conversation when the feelings first start shifting, they wait until someone else is fully invested and standing there with emotional whiplash.
some of my friends tease me about how much i watch romcoms (shout out to people we meet on vacation and anyone but you), but the reason i do it so much is because it keeps my belief alive that this type of love is still out there. maybe we don’t all get the giant airport chase scene or the dramatic love confession in the rain, but i still believe we’re all deserving of our own version of that kind of love: the kind where someone chooses you intentionally, openly, and without leaving you questioning where you stand.