Coronavirus and Relationship Pressures

Making your way through life, you’re either in a relationship or out of one. Single or taken. Sometimes “complicated”. Often “complicated”. We define ourselves by our partners and use our relationship statuses as parameters by which we can either feel empowered or fragile. When we’re with someone, being single can look attractive, but when we’re single, we’re only back on the hamster wheel, looking around attentively for the next person to fill that much-accepted gap.

Lockdown has accentuated the importance of the relationship status, too. Those who are paired with another person, conventionally “correctly” on the right track, are favoured over those who are alone. In terms of physical isolation during lockdown, but also favoured by regulations, too. Why, under some rules, can non-cohabiting couples see one other in their corresponding households, even if one of those people lives with a large family, and yet those without significant others are confined to a substandard set of rules? What message is being put across here, intentionally or otherwise? Are single people less worthy of happiness? If they’re alone already, sure they can continue to cope alone? Is it punishment for not being part of the forceful normality of the world? You're an outsider if you’re over the age of 18 and not in a relationship. Not following along the customary paths of life. Refusing to buy into the patriarchal confines of society.

But that’s obviously not the case: people who aren’t in relationships do get lonely. Some could argue that they are by definition lonelier than those within relationships who can’t see their partners. Perhaps they should even get special treatment; after all, I can FaceTime my boyfriend whenever I want when we’re apart, and I can more comfortably harass him for attention over text, but single people aren’t privy to those same privileges.

Lockdown has caused the leaking of a lot of unpleasantries out of the woodwork. The country has shown its colours in a variety of ways, and unintentionally its priorities and values have been unveiled. Whether that’s financial priorities, classist privileges or racial health inequalities, our flawed values serve a separatist means. However, the relationship dilemma is one that has scarcely been explored.

So what has lockdown meant for single people? Placed at a disadvantage, they can’t meet people by the standard means, and online dating platforms have embraced the spotlight: who’s not on Tinder, Bumble and Hinge? And what does this mean for our own selection abilities? Are virtual dating platforms only fuelling our perfectionist tendencies and unrealistic aesthetic expectations?

So you’ve met someone on Hinge, and you start chatting. We move to the next issue: talk about what? There’s only so much reliving of childhood memories you can do with a stranger, and who really wants to discuss Zoom lectures? It’s bad enough being part of them first-hand.

You agree to meet for a date; this is if you’re not part of a shielding household and are comfortable meeting a potential ‘rona carrier. In some parts of the country, serving alcohol remains completely off limits, so the standard boozy first date gets ruled out immediately. The hospitality industry has taken a hit and even Google can’t keep up with what’s open and what’s not anymore. If you’re from different areas, how will you meet? If the advice is to not travel outwith your local area, “except for work”, then are you destined to just text until the legendary vaccine becomes mainstream?

Overcoming those issues with a pinch of stress and skewing of morals, you agree to meet at a cafe. If it’s still open. You get there and look around for the person who’s profile pic you’ve had drilled into your brain over the last few weeks. That in itself is an obstacle: who actually looks like their profile picture anyway? Especially if it’s a guy; the confusion multi-person pictures can cause is intense. Is he the dark haired one second from the left? Hopefully.

Then the chat barrier: usually first dates are a good way of getting out all the nonsense nervous adrenaline brings up, but what if you’ve already said all this stuff over text, to fill the void that being stuck inside all day has caused? Covid conversation has become the new “oh, the weather’s awful”, and so avoid that at all costs. Work? What work? You’re lucky if you’re still in work and don’t want to offend your new potential partner sitting across from you, one of the thousands who’ve lost their job at the hands of the pandemic. Family? Driving you up the wall as it is, are they really going to infiltrate your date too? Friends? Yeah, yeah; drunken Zoom quizzes are the new nights out, we get it.

But if you’re lucky, you get on, have a laugh, find some sunshine to battle against the rain Coronavirus is drizzling over, literally, everything. You leave promising to plan a second, or hinting at it if you’re keeping things coy… and then what? Are you destined to coffee shops and walks for the next few weeks, whilst you decide whether this person is worth investing in? Do you bend the rules and see them at their place? What if they’re living at home, student rent and lack of work being an impossible combination: surely the second date is too early to meet the parents?

Issues at every turn, dating during Coronavirus isn’t impossible. I’ve seen friends get into and out of relationships, talking to new people and even managing to enjoy the limited options available to us. And, to get some perspective, people are dying. Being forced to choose coffee over cocktails is a minor problem in the grand scheme.

However: don’t let social pressures grind you down. Lockdown situations have made things especially hard for single people and as a result it may seem the far more attractive option to rush into finding something, to satisfy the perpetual hunger for alternative company. And that’s fine, if you are ready. But, if the enforced loneliness is forcing you towards desperation, resist. Use the time to figure yourself out, as cliche as that sounds. Pour time into your friends, whether virtually or socially distanced, or look to build new relationships with other friends if you’re realising the ones you’ve got don’t quite click with you. Reach out to family; strengthen the relationships that already exist in your life. Isolation can be distressing, and completely terrifying. But it also offers an olive branch. You can recreate, rethink, rebrand yourself. Use it to be creative. Put your energy towards yourself, rather than pouring it all into another person. Isolation gives you a chance to disconnect from the fast pace of the world, to slow down and understand what your true priorities are. And never feel pressured to have to speed things up, to find another person just to placate a society that puts its faith in traditional values. Use this time to grow yourself rather than shrink to fit the ideals of another: coming out the other side, you’ll only be stronger.