Megan Watts asks if it’s even possible to meet someone the old-fashioned way any more
If you had asked seven-year-old Meg how she was going to find the love of her life, she probably would have responded with some sort of whimsical, bubble-filled fantasy of meeting a prince or an ENT surgeon (my dad is one and, at the time, that seemed pretty cool) while doing something fairytale-like such as singing to animals in the woods.
If you had asked 14-year-old Meg how she was going to find the love of her life, she would have probably thrown back a response with a bit more realistic gravity – at university, in a bar or, like every other classic rom-com, at a wild party filled with dancing, red cups and an Arctic Monkeys song playing in the background.
But flash forward to now, at 25-years-old, I’m not entirely sure what falling in love will look like at all.
What I once looked at through the lens of media-driven realism is now depleted with a sceptical hue. As bars and parties are painted with the “old-fashioned” brush, us singles are left with social media, dating apps and a hopeful gaze to catapult us into commitment. And it’s just not that romantic.
It’s this realisation that I was complaining about over a mid-week wine with one of my best guy pals, James*. “I wish I could meet someone the old-fashioned way”, I told him. You know, in a pub, in an elevator, in a library (despite the fact that I haven’t visited a library in years). In return, he gave me the biggest scoff.
“There’s absolutely no chance,” James told me.
Of course, before he even had a moment to explain, I was taking it personally, sweeping my hair back and readying myself for the biggest blow-up Bivacco had ever seen. But as I was about to give him a mouthful, he offered me some food for thought.
“‘I want to meet a man the old-fashioned way’ means you want a man to walk right up to you, strike a conversation and fall in love with you between the bookshelves. But the truth is, men these days are too scared to approach girls. And why wouldn’t they be?”
I rarely ever take the side of the opposite gender, but the boys have got a point. After pondering James’ sweeping statement, I realised that the male species was in fact stuck between a rock and a hard place.
In a world where social media is rife, as is the cancelling trend, it turns out people don’t approach each other anymore for fear of being rejected, insulted or, worse, appearing in a 10-part TikTok storytime.
Walking up to someone you like is seemingly a thing of the past and we instead have resorted to quick glances and crossing our fingers to avoid getting our feelings (and reputations) hurt.
But are we as women making the “old-fashioned way” a hard game to play?
My gal pals often complain about “creepy” guys approaching them at a club, at a restaurant or at the gym, and then responding with a hefty dose of rejection or a hearty telling off. I’ve seen countless clips on social media of women naming and shaming men who have tried their luck. But if we are rewarding men’s bravery in taking that first step with a wod of public embarrassment, how on earth can we expect the “old-fashioned” way to make its way into wedding speeches?
Yes, I know. Of course there are situations in which safety comes into play, and to that sister, I urge you to make your wrath known. But if lovely boys like my friend James are too scared to approach girls in fear of being publicly humiliated, can we really be setting our meeting expectations so high?
And more importantly, if I want to meet someone in a pub, an elevator or a library, why don’t I have the guts to do the walk, talk and approach myself?
I immediately felt the red wine conjure its colour on my cheeks and my chin lower in embarrassment. I’m a raging, old-fashioned hypocrite.
I have not once gone up to a cute boy in a pub and struck up a conversation. If I’d seen an attractive man in the library, I probably would’ve given him two chances to catch my longing looks before ducking and blaming it on “I guess he’s not the one.”
My “old-fashioned” daydream had in fact been me expecting men to do the hard yards as I give off subtle, hardly-fair hints that I want to rip their clothes off. The game, it seems, is one with rigged rules, foul play and a very sexist undertone. And it’s a game that has seen me end up alone.
So, to shake things up in the name of feminism, control and James – who probably, if not definitely, has a point – I am throwing “old-fashioned” in the outdated bin and instead calling on a new trend to put into play – initiative.
A cute guy is at a bar? I’m gonna say hi. A boy is reading my favourite book? I’ll show interest in his admirable reading endeavours. And if a prince or ENT surgeon is in the vicinity, I’m gonna stop being a pussy and ask him on a date – the “old-fashioned” way.
Will you?
*Names changed for anonymity
