Dear readers, it is with great sadness that I must share that this will be my last time authoring the Ask Abby column for The Daily Free Press. But do not worry and do not fret — we still have one more story to go. And the good thing is? You guys already know everything.
This is going to sound terribly cliché, but even if we don’t end up with the “dream partner” we picture in our heads, there is still a deeply full life to be lived. Some of the most meaningful moments of mine haven’t come from romance at all — they’ve come from my sister and my girlfriends. More people can give you that kind of life than just a love interest ever will.
If you don’t know where to start, you’re not alone. That’s kind of the whole point — no one really does. But let your words be the first thing that opens the door. It doesn’t have to be perfect or clever or perfectly timed. It just has to be honest.
What ever happened to “Hi,” “How are you?” and “What’s your name?”
Somewhere between the creation of situationships and soft-launches, first dates have lost the basics — and Gen Z’s ultra-casual approach isn’t exactly helping. We’ve traded genuine curiosity for safe small talk, leaving too many dates stuck in that awkward, surface-level limbo. So if you’re socially awkward, emotionally unavailable or just chronically bad at coming up with things to say when it matters, don’t worry.
Last night, I watched “La La Land” with my boyfriend, David, on FaceTime. We’re long distance, so we have “date nights” by watching movies together — if you count being separated by roughly 2,700 miles as “together.” This was my movie pick. I’ve watched “La La Land” once before with my best friend, Brady, in Cape Cod. That was two years ago, though.
When I say you own your own life, I mean it — uncompromisingly. By the time we reach college, we’re adults with autonomy, with a sense of personhood that isn’t dictated by anyone else, romantic partner or otherwise. The moment you start shrinking to fit someone else’s version of “perfect,” it’s no longer a relationship — it’s control disguised as care. Remember: being loved should never require giving up yourself.
Grief might be a shadow in your love life, but it is not a stop sign. If it teaches us anything, it’s that the heart is remarkably resilient. It can hold absence and possibility at the same time. It can ache for what was and still remain open to what could be. And maybe that’s the most radical kind of lover there is — someone who knows exactly how much it can hurt, and chooses to love fully anyway.
Graduation, I will agree, is a strange cutoff point. No one’s life will look exactly the same after as it did while they were in college. Everyone is moving and priorities shift. But let me play devil’s advocate here and say I don’t think it’s impossible to find love senior year if you lead with intention and effort – though there are some drawbacks.
So here’s the question: put yourself in her shoes. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone you were dating was being disloyal, even if the messenger was a stranger? Ignorance might feel easier, but it doesn’t protect anyone — it just lets the behavior continue unchecked. Personally, I think having to break up would be much easier to contend with than losing self respect unknowingly.
Bars aren’t just about drinks or dancing — they’re about connection. Meeting someone in person takes courage, but it also opens doors that swiping right never will. Pay attention, read the room and don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. Sometimes the reward isn’t a date — it’s a laugh, a story, a friend or just the confidence boost that comes from taking a risk. And honestly? That’s what makes a night out worth it.
You’re not imagining it — modern dating has taken on the emotional temperature of a networking event: polite smiles, calculated moves and everyone quietly scanning for the exit. Romance hasn’t disappeared — it’s just been rebranded as optimization. Part of this shift traces back to the digital rabbit holes shaping how some men think about women and relationships: Andrew Tate soundbites, red-pill forums and the broader manosphere, where growth is measured less in empathy than in leverage.
Every February, many women find themselves in the same silent limbo — waiting to see if Valentine’s Day will be acknowledged, assumed or avoided entirely. We tell ourselves it’s just a holiday. We swear we don’t need anything big. We insist we’re “low-maintenance.” But deep down, we’re not waiting for flowers — we’re waiting to be chosen. The more I thought about it, I couldn’t help but wonder: How important is it to celebrate Valentine’s Day?
