The other week, I was catching up with a friend who recently graduated from Boston University. We were going through the motions of a catch-up: discussing classes and work. Then we got to crushes. As I reached for information, I realized I didn’t have any. Not one crush. Besides the occasional class crush, I realized that I haven’t really met anyone who I felt that kind of connection with this year. Mid-bagel bite, I turned to her and said: The crush industry is dying.
I saw it clearly in my mind. It was truly cinematic. The vision of my crush-life felt like one of those black and white cowboy movies where the tumbleweeds dance across the screen. Or maybe an attic full of cobwebs. Or an empty lake.
I haven’t had a butterflies-in-the-stomach, blushing at the thought of them, wow-I-miss-them kind of crush in a while. I specifically mentioned there was no one — no one I was consistently seeing, consistently talking to, consistently getting to know. To me, that felt slightly sad.
Because, damn it, aren’t crushes fun! There’s this rush of excitement we get when we see our crush. A zap of joy when we talk about them. There’s also a beauty to the idea that one day, maybe, they’ll like us back.
My best friend blames the lack of crushes on Boston, another blames it on the internet, another blames our pesky individualism and another blames it on the challenges that come with acting on a crush. To me, it’s a horrible combination of it all: situationships, talking stages, exclusive-but-not-dating — this garbage doesn’t help either.
It stems from a monster of nasty reasons. Very fitting I’m writing this on Halloween. Killed by the monster, romance feels — for lack of a better word — dead.
My immediate reaction is to blame the dating apps. Where is the real connection? How are we swiping on real human people? Come on. Good riddance Hinge! Let’s destroy Tinder! Once those are gone, everything will be fine.
Right?
Probably very wrong. I don’t think apps are the sole perpetrator of our modern day crush and romance problem. Another friend gave me a more inspired take than my immediate anti-dating app stance: perhaps the reason why we aren’t crushing anymore is because we are just scared of love.
Upon further thought, I think that is the case for me. I am too scared. Once feelings arise, I automatically begin to question their validity. Is the person is even reachable, am I even pretty, what we would even talk about, do they find me annoying? It all snowballs and crushes any sort of potential of a crush. Ironically so.
Yes — I am scared — really scared. Part of having a crush is being vulnerable and owning how you feel. Especially that you feel, well, attracted to someone. That can be really embarrassing, especially when you start thinking about the fact they might not like you back. I usually pick myself apart and analyze why the crush is futile.
Armor. That’s what I need. So when I come up with all of these negative thoughts on crushes, I have the confidence to fight them with all my might. Not to be corny, but maybe before I have a crush on someone else, I need to have a crush on myself.
I don’t mean winking at myself in the mirror or asking myself for my Snapchat. I mean appreciating the beautiful things about myself that I do in others. I guess I do have some crush-worthy attributes. I’m outgoing, passionate and a lot of other great things. The issue isn’t the crush industry, it’s my fear of being a part of it.
I will not succumb to the monster of dating apps, talking stages or self-hate any longer. It’s important to have standards, sure, but they don’t mean anything if you don’t have a standard of love for yourself.
With this, I’m decidedly ready to dive back in. No more snowballing. With my shield of Sophia Keohane self-love, I will slay the monster that is today’s dating world, and make strides in the crush industry.
