Modern Dating Is Just Two People Pretending Not To Care

“Lobotomy chic” and how being aloof while dating is making you uncool. Lobotomy chic, coined by @whatzaraloves6 on TikTok, is not the 1940s torture method that immediately pops into mind when you hear it, but a new wave of anti-emotion, smooth-brained, blank-stare members of Gen Z who believe that cold is the new hot. And that seeming, for lack of a better term, “thoughtless” is the golden path to being seen as detached, unbothered, and cool.

We’ve seen a rise of “lobotomy chic” with public figures such as Chloe Cherry, who on social media presents a doll-like appearance and aesthetic, archetyping detached femininity to match this theme. Additionally, there has been a rise in wellness coping mechanisms such as ashwagandha and beta blockers taking main stage as a form of “self-numbing,” all to dumb down the external presentation of having emotions. Perhaps appearing as though you have no inner monologue makes you seem deeper, mysterious, and enigmatic, or someone ideal to project onto. But it doesn’t end there. Nonchalance has been tailored across the board, with millions of young adults refusing to be emotional or come off as enthusiastic in any way about their desires or feelings. What began as a posing trend has bled into the social dynamics of our dating pools.

This can be seen predominantly in social settings. Young people and young adults almost fear being seen as emotive, putting effort in, or caring about specific subjects. It goes as far as renaming relationships into “situationships,” a watered-down way of saying casual dating, to seem less “full on.” As a young person, this makes me think a lot about what is televised about the 90s. How casually calling or showing up at the apartment of the object of your admiration was seen as completely regular and even romanticised.

So, what on earth has happened?

The complexities of young dating are vast. I mean, have you ever posted a story with a song from the guy you’re after’s playlist in hopes he likes it? If he doesn’t, at least you’ll see him in your story views and finally know he’s actually ignoring you. Or perhaps, instead of calling, you’ve checked their Snap score and watched it go up while you throttle and toil in “Delivered City.” What is the obsession with keeping people at arm’s length?

It could be argued that this self-minimizing is a defense mechanism to the hyper-visibility we are all privy to. Years ago, you might have had to wait weeks to get a letter back from your delusionship, whereas now you can see them on Snap Maps and get a dry response to your risky text in under ten seconds. Equally, everyone has access to a plethora of different people a mere scroll away. Maybe the avoidance of putting yourself out there comes from the belief that they will inevitably find someone more their type on God’s greatest gift to man: Hinge.

It seems that some of this generation avoid embarrassment like the plague and, in doing so, sabotage any possible opportunity they might gain from moderate vulnerability. However, most people still want that breath-hitching romance that plagues our screens. While composure in and of itself is a highly admirable trait, isn’t being vocal about what you want also under that category?

On the contrary, a rise of non-porcelain public figures has begun to blast back into center stage, with less “Euphoria” and more “overcompensating” being thrashed across our screens. Public figures such as Quenlin Blackwell, with her spontaneous comedy, and Rachel Sennott, with her working-girl frazzled self-awareness, offer a refreshing third dimension to the air of celebrities we once deemed impenetrable.

It’s a weird game, with some public figures leaning more toward this icy showcase through model photo dumps and the odd photo of quiche, while others create comedy series and podcasts to reach beyond the screen.

So, if you want to dance, sing, ask someone out, or tell them how you feel, do it. Listen to a good song, give yourself a shake, and get on with it. Yes, you can retreat afterward and deal with the outcome however you will. But I personally doubt that on your deathbed you’ll say, “I wish I never did that in my twenties.” Because maybe the shame lies not in trying and failing, but in never having tried at all.

So, what is more tasteful? Being socially standoffish and having people admire you from afar? Or risking it all for a week’s embarrassment? Let us know.