Stop Looking for a Boyfriend and Get a Life Instead.

Hannah Charlton

1 day ago

6 min read

It started with a TikTok binge and an underwhelming experience on Hinge.

Since I’d become single, I’d been blessed (inundated) with an algorithm that was telling me how not to be single, yet how bad dating is, and how I should be dating intentionally, while providing me with an unending list of ‘red flags’ to look out for. I also had a million different tarot card readers telling me that this message was most definitely meant to find me, specifically (NO HASHTAGS), to tell me that all my prayers were going to be answered and I was about to find the love of my life (all I had to do was like and ‘claim’ the post alongside 12K other love-hopefuls). It was ridiculous. And I’m sorry to say, I was 100% drawn in by it.

I also found that dating apps presented me with the squarest men I’ve ever come across in my life. Guys, it wasn’t your fault... these apps, I found, were little homogenising machines, taking users’ personalities and pumping out less spiky, interesting versions of us to appease the greatest number of people. The whole concept of dating apps just didn’t work for me; I couldn’t find a way to fit my personality, all of me, into six photos and some prompts I was supposed to provide a witty answer to.

I went on approximately 3.5 dates, where I found I was a terrible Hinge date. I just couldn’t seem to settle into them and be myself, instead presenting an awkward, strange and uptight version of myself that definitely gave off the vibe that I didn’t, in fact, want to be there.

Yet the thought of being single and not wanting to be lingered. It was intense and depressing, and weirdly, I couldn’t stop visiting these little apps with this strange collection of short-form content that was poisoning my self-aware brain and distracting me from actual real life. Which I desperately missed. I was finding that the new and unhealthy neural pathways I’d created made me obsess over the fact that I was single. They told me that it was wrong and that the ultimate goal was to couple up.

I’d never even considered the idea that I didn’t want to be in a romantic relationship.

Until I scrolled upon a video that wasn’t giving me unsolicited dating advice or predicting my love life through an undeniable spiritual connection through the screen. It asked the question... what if that hole you’re trying to fill isn’t a romantic one, but a creative one?

Something clicked.

All this time, I was reaching for something external, someone else to fix this hole in my soul. Turns out, after a bit of self-reflection, it wasn’t someone else that I was craving. I was looking for something else inside me. This entire time, I was looking for something that would ignite some excitement, some meaning, something that opened up my mind a little more. Something that challenged me. And the root of that wasn’t romance. It was my creative mind calling out to be nourished.

In this sorry state of trying to date (when I truly didn’t want to), my creative act of choice, writing, something that I’d loved doing for as long as I could remember, had fallen off a cliff. I’d also stopped reading as much. I’d stopped searching for inspiration. I’d put a blocker on it by putting any spare time into haphazardly trying to find a man (because that’s what I’d been led to believe I was meant to be doing).

It was time to redirect that energy.

I made a promise to myself. I’d intentionally create (not date) and see what happened.

Leaving the romance behind actually wasn’t that hard. In fact, it was freeing to leave the ‘single girl’ brand behind and see what was left.

I started retraining my brain to be curious again. I revisited writers who inspired me; I started writing down ideas for essays in my Notes app; I found myself less attached to my phone, replacing social media with Google Docs, where I’d lose myself for hours writing and editing my work. And, despite an initial deep fear, I started putting my work out there for the world to see. Self-doubt started to dissipate, and self-belief found its way in. It made me feel more like myself than ever before. It was definitely more my vibe than any Hinge date I had been on.

I found that it’s not just me taking the different path, the creative one. While there will always be advice on how to get a partner, how not to be a sad, single girl, I think we’re in this special time when societal conditions are perfect for women to ditch dating and dedicate more time to nurturing our creative selves.

There’s an upward trend in women becoming bolder, more creative and more confident in putting their work out into the world. Mainstream culture is now filled with examples of women creating and sharing their experiences that leave behind perfectionism, overthinking, debilitating empathy and self-doubt (all feelings that we’re well versed in as women, and that the dating scene can help perpetuate).

While there have always been women in the public eye doing this, I think there’s been a new tipping point that’s brought about a fresh wave of fierce, confident, creative women. The release of Julia Fox’s memoir, which unapologetically recounted her wild life up until now, quickly followed by a Brat summer that gave us permission to just fucking party, be messy and imperfect, started the shift. Maybe we could all be “so Julia”.

Lena Dunham came out with Famesick to highlight the gruelling uphill battle of being a female creator (despite being a genius, hello, she wrote Girls in her early 20s?!). Meanwhile, Lily Allen’s album, constituting a lament over a particularly disappointing man, has helped women collectively tear down the ‘dream’ we’ve been sold (being a passive, quiet partner).

These cultural moments are changing the perception of a woman’s place in the world, reminding society that we’re multifaceted; we don’t need to hide behind perfectionism. We no longer need to take on the role of making everyone feel comfortable. And we certainly don’t need to have a partner to be validated.

Instead of waiting for that text back from an underwhelming man, we’re realising that we’ve got the option to channel that energy into something new, into saying something, into establishing our place in the world. Charli XCX is encouraging people to just give creative ideas a go and fail if necessary (“who cares what people think?!”). These women are giving us the green light to take our honest experiences as women in the world and outwardly share all parts of ourselves, without the danger of being cancelled or ‘undateable’.

For me, replacing dating with creating has helped me get my female power and intuition back. I’m happier. I’m more... me.

And it’s not just restricted to the actual act of creating; it’s living creatively, too. You know that sad, single, digital black hole I kept falling into? Well, turns out, when you start to see life through a creative lens, it’s a surefire way to bring you out of the digital world and into the real one. You lift your head up more, start noticing the cute little quirks of life. It makes you curious, interested (and interesting). The digital world’s opinions start to have less meaning. Your life starts to have more.

I’ve found myself having the confidence to pursue more than just writing, peering into other creative disciplines and trying them out, and asking other creatives questions about their processes and where their drive comes from.

My relationships with men, too, are better than ever. By taking out the romantic potential, it takes away the pressure of being desirable, tears down any pedestals I may have previously put men on and opens up the opportunity to just get to know someone, to focus on friendship rather than always striving for something ‘more’.

The more I’ve fed my creative side, the more I’ve got to know myself and the more I’ve found that I like myself. It allowed my self-esteem to naturally build. Not because I wanted to be ‘good enough’ for a potential date. But to be good enough for myself. To start to realise my potential and the life I could build for myself, without waiting around for the ‘perfect’ partner to make it seem more viable or palatable to a coupled-up society.

[This would be a good place to insert some experiences from Roe readers who have also focused more on creating.]

The funny thing is, this hiatus from romantic life has brought more love into my life than ever before. I love myself a little more and, from that, I trust myself more. I’ve found I’m more open and vulnerable, which, it would seem, is the perfect recipe for loving those in my life more fully and freely. Who knows, maybe I’ve found the space for both dating andcreating? But I know this time I’ll be doing it my way, deciding the red flags for myself and definitely taking dating offline and away from the tarot card readers forever.

Maybe I’ll even find that I am, in fact, a good date (when I truly want to be there).