To say gay dating is hard, let alone in your 20s, is an understatement. The rising concern around gay dating isn’t just present in me; it sits in the back of my peers’ minds. With dating apps, if you can even call them dating, and the forever-changing body standard on social media, I have never felt more alone and worried about my future in romantic relationships.

For context, I came out in high school, and while I’ve had boyfriends since then, they have not worked out. Whether that be from a lack of respect given or what seems to be the new normal for me, long distance. Gay dating, in my eyes, has become out of touch. 

Dating apps have a scarcity of people actually willing to commit, and those who are ready simply don’t work out or use the easy excuse of “I’m not ready for a relationship.” My question is, then why are you actively searching if you know what you already want?

Needless to say, dating in my 20s has been nothing short of interesting. Some men work for a little, and others fail to see it through. My number one qualm with the gay dating scene nowadays is the normality of hookup culture. It’s no secret that gay hookup culture is commonly talked about.

With hookups being close to the number one topic in the dating scene, it’s hard to find a true connection. Since I was little, I have always sought to build meaningful, long-lasting relationships with others. Whether that be my family, friends or, at this point in my life, romantic relationships. It has become a widespread issue in my life; I can’t seem to coin the term “casual” because to me, nothing is casual about getting to know someone. Call me a hopeless romantic or young and naive, but I do not enjoy investing time into someone, just for them to leave or have their way with others.

I find no joy in getting to know someone, just to know they are actively looking for others. Call me old-fashioned, but committing to something you see working out is 100% worth the energy. Speaking from experience, I have been involved with men who say they are into me, but the next day, they are off on another date. While it is their life and who am I to judge, I just question why men do this? I have never found an answer, and maybe they enjoy the thrill of having more than one talking stage, but to toy with one’s emotions is not a game I like playing. 

Casual hookups and casual relationships have ruined the future of gay dating.

What happened to wanting more from a person? Another half. A best friend and a lover. My hope slowly dies as I try to navigate this rocky scene. The need for intimacy and genuine connections is diminishing, and with that, the hope of finding the one.

A common phrase popping up on popular dating apps like Hinge and Tinder is “short-term relationship, open to long-term.” Every time I come across this, I try to wrap my head around the meaning behind it. What could you possibly mean by you are open to a long-term relationship? And what does a short-term relationship even look like? 

My theory: men are scared to commit because they have endless options at the touch of their fingertips. Which is okay, but I have been dragged along one too many times.

It’s damaging, not only to my own character, but to everyone else looking for a long-lasting partner. I do not see the benefits of a short-term relationship. Why is there a term limit on a relationship? We aren’t running for president.

It’s sad to know which apps will get you what out of a gay relationship. Grindr, purely for hookups. Tinder, you might have a chance at something, but most likely not. Hinge is a safer choice, but once again, you are deemed to get lead on, repeating the process over and over.

Hope is not totally lost. I have to admit that some dates work out, obviously not to the full extent. There are men looking to commit, but this comes with its own issues. Especially in Boston, it’s hard to find a committed partner when the dating pool is filled with people looking for a “casual” thing. For some odd reason, the ones that have worked out are nowhere near this city, leading to a problem on its own.

The social media standards also do not add any benefits to self-esteem when it comes to dating.

It is so easy to get sucked into the rabbit hole of the “perfect” body and the “perfect” relationship. This goes for any type of sexuality. But, on social media, it appears you have to be the skinniest guy or the one with the biggest muscles to find the one you want. If you fit between this stereotype, there’s no hope. Obviously, that isn’t true, but it is what social media makes it out to be.

I think as a society we are slowly recognizing the unattainable body standards, which is good, but it has been so ingrained into our heads that it is hard to ignore. I wish I could tell high school me that I do not need to look “perfect” to find who I am looking for. The standard also seems to change every day, because in a gay dating pool, it is run by men, and men seem to change their minds every day.

Gay dating isn’t easy; rather, it’s the most difficult avenue in my life I’ve had to navigate. To constant ghosting because you are looking for something real and emotionally charged, to being constantly judged when asked about sex. I still hold a little sense of hope, but as someone once told me, gay dating is “hell.”