Modern Dating: A Game Without Rules (And I’m Not Here for It)
Dating these days feels like trying to win a game where no one’s agreed on the rules. You think you’re playing chess, and next thing you know, you’re in a dodgeball match—getting hit from all sides while just trying to make a decent move.
One thing I’ve noticed is how different cultures approach relationships, especially when it comes to commitment. Latina women? If there’s a connection, they don’t waste time—they lock it down. It’s not about playing it cool or keeping options open; it’s about seeing potential and acting on it. There’s a structure to it. But with a lot of the white women I’ve met—especially through dating apps—it’s a whole different ball game. There’s hesitation, uncertainty, and this unspoken rule that taking things seriously too soon is some kind of foul.
That’s where things get messy for me. I go into dating with intentionality. If I like someone, I make it clear. I’m not here to “see where things go” while secretly hoping they go somewhere—I actually want to know if we’re headed in the same direction. But somehow, that seems to backfire. When I try to approach dating with the mindset of building something real, it almost always flops spectacularly.
But here’s the kicker—when I stop trying? When I just exist in their orbit, when we run into each other out downtown, and I’m just being myself, having a good time, suddenly I become interesting. It’s like they need to see me in the wild, thriving in my natural habitat, before they realize, “Oh, wait, he’s actually kind of cool.” And by that point? The moment has passed for me. Once I feel like I was rejected, my brain just refuses to flip that switch back on. It’s not even bitterness—it’s just how I’m wired.
I think a lot of this comes down to modern dating being more about attention than connection. People don’t always know what they’re looking for in a partner anymore; they just know they want to feel desired, entertained, and maybe a little chased. But if you’re someone like me, who values honesty, loyalty, and directness, that whole dance starts to feel exhausting.
And look, I get it—I’m not perfect, but I’d like to think I’m a solid catch. I’m direct about what I want, I don’t play games, and I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m also funny (at least, that’s what I’ve been told), I keep a good vibe, and I’m not out here trying to waste anyone’s time. But in this dating landscape, those traits aren’t necessarily an advantage. Being clear about your intentions can be seen as “too much, too soon,” while being nonchalant and emotionally unavailable gets you bonus points. It’s a weird system, and I’m not built for it.
At this point, I spend a lot of time out—because what else am I going to do? I don’t have a wife or kids to keep me grounded, and until I do, I’m just out here trying to make life enjoyable. But that’s not the end goal for me. I know that when I do have a family, it’ll be my driving force. That’s what will push me to work harder, build more, and strive for something greater. Right now, I have my dog, and if my love for him is any indication, I can only imagine how much deeper that love runs when it’s for a child. And of course, none of that works without having a strong, supportive partner by my side—someone who actually wants to build something real with me.
That’s the thing. I don’t want to keep searching. I don’t want to keep playing this weird, undefined game. I just want to find someone who values communication, affection, and commitment as much as I do. Someone who gives love without making it a scavenger hunt. Someone who doesn’t just want attention but actually wants connection.
And if that means I have to delete Hinge for the hundredth time, so be it. Because honestly? Dating apps are exhausting. They feel like a never-ending job application where no one’s really hiring. I don’t need to spend my time trying to stand out in a sea of profiles that all say the same thing. I just need one person who sees me for who I am and says, “Yeah, that’s my guy.”
Until then, I’ll be at the bar with my friends, thriving in my natural habitat, waiting for someone to recognize what’s been right in front of them the whole time.