They say you never forget how to ride a bike. Can you forget how to date? It’s been a few months now, and—nervously, a bit unsteadily, feet on the pedals—I’m doing it. I’m out there in the world, meeting people, and can say, “I am dating.” It’s fun, and it feels so different than it did when I was in my 20s.
While there are times when I pine for the innocence, optimism, and, frankly, time, that I used to have, I now feel much more self-aware, in control of what and who I want, and relaxed about not looking for a commitment too soon. But I’ve noticed a new pattern, and it feels somewhat at odds with a younger version of myself: I don’t really text in between dates. It makes me question whether I’ve forgotten how to flirt or if I’ve lost my sense of playful banter since coming out of a long-term, committed relationship. Or maybe I’m just more grown-up.
As I was making reservations at Convoy Music Bar for my third date with a new match, it occurred to me that we hadn’t communicated almost at all since our second date. It had gone well—there was flirtation, gentle jabbing, chemistry. She asked to see me again, and I confirmed with a friendly follow-up text afterwards.
But, during the week, I felt no impulse to ask her how her days were going, to send her animal memes, or to continue to build rapport when we weren’t in person.
It made me question if this could be my own defense system kicking in: Don’t get attached, play the field, be cool. “You’ve been burned too heavily to sustain more damage; now is not the time to act recklessly,” I’d think to myself. My breakup is a bouncer at the door, ready to kick anyone at a moment’s notice to keep me from experiencing pain again.
Texting can be confusing. It can make it hard to fully understand how the other person is thinking, and that’s a scary feeling. Especially in the early days when you’re just getting to know someone, the space between in-person dates can be a breeding ground for anxiety and doubt, ramping up hopes or inflating insecurity too soon.
You may have experienced this yourself: Maybe you were texting nonstop with a match, and then they suddenly ghosted, leaving you mourning a connection that never actually made it past the talking stage. Or perhaps you went out on a date only to find that your shared love of Seinfeld clips didn’t translate into real-life chemistry.
In my younger years, I would have waited impatiently for those texts to come through, for someone to affirm that I was worthwhile to them, even if we didn’t know each other that well yet. And I would read into every line, trying to divine out their real motivations. Now, I feel free, like I truly don’t need someone to continually validate the progress of our connection. If we both are feeling spark and intrigue, then great—let’s keep this train rolling. But if it doesn’t work out, that’s cool, too. I have other things going on, and other people to meet.
I’ve been following a similar impulse while on the apps, as well. Exchange a few messages, then ask to meet up. Let’s get together, enjoy a drink, take a walk. How are we connecting for real? There’s no room for mystery in my dating life anymore. It’s important to me to lead with my authentic self, share honestly with people where I’m at, and convey clearly my interest or even disinterest. No games, just the truth. It all feels like growth—and if you find yourself overinvesting in a single match even before the initial meetup or being driven crazy wondering what someone’s intentions are, it might be worth giving this low-contact approach a try.
For now, I like that I’ve set a precedent of communication that feels low-stakes. After only a few dates (and even fewer messages, sometimes), there are no hurt feelings about when to anticipate a text or guilt about not sending one or following up fast enough. I am finding that if people are interested, they make a point of letting you know. And if it feels like people are stringing you along, they probably are. I’ve stopped questioning my own instincts and allowed communication to literally speak for itself.
Of course, I also am wondering how this approach is affecting my date. So far, she seems content with the level of communication. I hope she feels respected and not ignored. Everyone is coming to the table with a different past and level of expectation.
Check back in with me in a few months. In the meantime, tell me—do you text people in between dates when you’re just getting to know them? Would it hurt your feelings if you weren’t getting regular texts after a successful first date? Am I shooting myself in the foot by not ramping up romantic anticipation? I’d love to know. Email me at [email protected] with your thoughts.
If you’re new to Unhinged, catch up on all the dating chats you’ve missed here with columnist Nicolle Monico. And follow along at @monicles and @sandiegomag on Instagram to know when a new article drops each week from new writer Natalie Cooper.
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