Wind outside is howling. Howling! On its comically curled wisps, an ancient energy source isn’t whispering, “winter is coming”. No. It’s telling all of us singletons that cuffing season has been upon us and because of global warming we didn’t fully realize it. Yes, it’s the wind that is tap tap tapping at my window, not some overzealous love interest. Debate abounds about whether this moment in history truly is unprecedented, but with the sheer variety of technology at our disposal to communicate with one another I’d have to argue that it is. Sure, emails, texts, and dating websites were de rigueur even a decade ago, but think of how far we’ve come. Instagram, tinder, snapchat and all the rest were barely blips on the communal radar.

Most of 2020 has been a push and pull between wanting to connect with others and needing to be solitary, for safety. Technology allows us to be alone but together--through screens. It's now undeniable that the social tangibility we’re lacking is effecting our psyches in a variety of ways. Even though we’ve managed to get this far, it feels like lots of people are tired of making sacrifices (never even considered making those sacrifices) or that we can’t envision another “new normal”. Yet, these next few months before the vaccines roll out might be the most crucial.

The numbers in NYC as of December 2020 are almost as high as they were in May. Around that time we were reaching a then unprecedented number of deaths. The summer gave us a small reprieve and as numbers decreased, we collectively sighed relief, dipped our furtive toes into any close body of water and ventured out of our seclusion to meet and greet-- at a distance. I feel like I didn’t immediately get the memo. I stayed hunkered down for as long as possible until work brought me back mid-summer. And even then I was glued to cdc guidelines, marveling at how quickly New Yorkers threw caution to the wind in order to embrace, not just the sun, but also each other. Every time I passed a canoodling couple, I thought, “people are making out in these pandemic streets?”. Naive, I know.

By August/September the pull to connect with someone was too great to ignore. The virtual dating of early quarantine had given way to six-feet socials in the park, and first dates at new outdoor dining spots were the first chance to see behind a mask...what one date described as “akin to showing a ‘lil ankle”. Even NYC catcallers had adjusted from some variation of ,“let me see you smile” to “nice forehead”.

Cuffing season, the mating ritual particularly attuned to the seemingly endless options of online dating apps, has also adjusted. In the before-times, it almost felt like a techno-primal rite of passage: find someone to bunker down with before winter fully settled in [ or before the apocalypse approached, depending on the year you’re in. Remember the end of the Myan calendar scheduled for December 2012 or Y2K?].

For some, cuffing season 2020 kind of started at the end of summer. For others, they swear that cuffing coincides with the start of the holiday season, at least that’s kind of what all of these holiday romance movies keep shoving down our throats. Cuffing season aside, when talking with friends there seemed to have been greater urgency this year than anything we’d ever witnessed. People were at once eager to start virtual dating and hurried to make an irl transition, CDC guidelines be damned. But to what end? As numbers rise and the mythology of pod-safety comes into question, the question I keep asking myself is “ to what end is online dating?”. Pre covid19 endless texts and video chats did not necessarily bode well for participants (from catfish-fears to diminished expectations), but now these are meant to be the new standard. But all around, it seems like some have adjusted more than others.

The general PSA for this post is : Don’t go rushing into something just for the sake of being booed up. For some, at the start of quarantine it meant new fast love/fast new love and I’m sure many have worked out. For others, whether new or old relationships, we’ve all heard or read of soured couplings and that the global statistics for domestic violence continued to spike as covid19 restrictions increased.

For those of us dating during a pandemic, the main endgame should be to live to tell the tale. We have to get through the pandemic first and foremost with some sanity and dignity. There is so much self reflection that this year has given to us, even as it’s taken so much away. What in life have you given importance to pre-covid19? Are those things still given the same level of importance now? Even those who are coupled-up or steadfast in their singledom could ask themselves these questions.

When it comes to dating, pandemic or nah, I believe that people will show their true selves to you within the first few moments of meeting. The most charming of people might flash a bit of manipulation early on. And even the strongest of us might share a bit of unintentional vulnerability. In general, with online dating— and pandemic online dating in particular— the constancy of a person becomes harder to gauge. In early pandemic 2020, with shelter at home in effect and unemployment soaring it often felt like you had all of the time in the world---but as the year comes to an end, we are seemingly now pressed to time. Why? How…or is it, Howl? The wind continues to howl: not “Winter but rather “cuffing season is upon us”. With this pressure, our ability to make consistent readings of someone’s reliability and patterns of behavior is put to the test.

I would argue that we need to take all of that self reflection of the last year and hold ourselves more accountable. Because it’s not only other people’s patterns that we need to look out for: it is also our own patterns. We are social beings. How do you show up in the world looking for connection: do you push people away? Are you overly forthcoming? Do you pick up on only the social cues you want to see versus what people actually tell you is happening?

Think back on this year of reflection. Congratulate yourself on the work you’ve done. To trust yourself is to love yourself. As you move forward this month and beyond, trust in people’s patterns, surely, and not just their words, promises, and new year’s resolutions of change. And that includes you too, if you are indeed a human being.

Our words and mantras hold weight + meaning. But only as much as we give them. Whether it’s action or inaction, how you show up to communicate with others and how others show up to communicate with you is important. Are we willing to respect boundaries, maybe not show up in person, and recommit to the screen? As we continue to ask the Grecian chorus of our lives: “to what end pandemic dating?,” listen out for their response. They’ll let you know if your story is unfolding like a tragedy or a comedy or some combination. Stay safe cause I’d love to meet you out there in 2021.

Trust Yourself = Love Yourself: Dating During the Pandemic