Monkey see, monkey do
By “monkey”, I mean me. By “see”, I mean date. And by “do”, I mean fuck. Putting it all together, I am dating and fucking multiple men.
Let’s brand it as owning my sexuality as a modern woman. It feels easier than admitting I’m reducing men to an optimization problem and far less degrading than calling me a slut. It’s also less embarrassing than saying I’m following some teenager’s TikTok advice about the importance of a dating roster. After all, I’m 27, and I know how to pay taxes. Those videos are purely for entertainment.
Economies of scale do not apply
If you’re not familiar with the term, “economies of scale” essentially means that as production of a good increases, the cost to produce a single unit decreases. One example is buying toilet paper in bulk at Costco rather than a single overpriced roll at CVS (don’t ask me why I did that).
While this may make sense for keeping the butts of a family of 4 clean, increasing the number of men you see does not, in fact, reduce the amount of emotional currency you have to spend to go on a date with each one. Sure, since your level of investment per person decreases, the level of hurt per rejection decreases. However, there’s no way to mitigate the level of hurt from an unsuccessful connection - that is, a simple lack of chemistry - as you fail to find someone you even like. And that, to me, is scarier than being told no.
Ultimately, applying economies of scale prevents you from being able to develop a connection with anyone, since your attention is split amongst so many people. So eventually, after a string of mediocre dates, you’ll probably delete the holy trinity of dating apps (Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge), flip the bird at the metaphorical man in the sky, and lose yourself in the smut Bible more popularly known as Harry Potter fan fiction.
Tyranny of choice does apply
“Tyranny of choice” refers to the concept that increasing our number of choices decreases our level of satisfaction. For me, this has manifested itself most acutely in the form of choice paralysis and unattainable expectations. That is to say, in a world where endless daddies are a single swipe away, how in the world can I pick out the best one for me?
When I first started dating, I had an unnecessary amount of arbitrary checkboxes to fulfill - eldest sibling, squinty eyes, likes tomatoes, the list goes on. While there were some traits that simply made sense for long-term compatibility, checking every box did not make any sort of guarantee as to whether or not I would actually like you.
And truthfully, once I start liking someone, that list of requirements goes out the window. While I do admit part of it is the lovely tint of rose-colored glasses, I think most of it is realizing that different people can reveal and check off new boxes you couldn’t have imagined. In which case, it’s okay if my next boy’s eyes aren’t that squinty.
Do note that for many, “tyranny of choice” can cause them to be dissatisfied with their partner because of the numerous possibilities of someone better. In this particular case, I think I’m lucky I get tunnel vision when I’m drunk on “like,” so I’ve largely been able to avoid this more harmful side effect of choice.
The middle stage
So say you do finally like someone, and *gasp*, they like you too! Then what?
The middle stage is what I call the time between dating multiple people simultaneously and landing the proverbial boyfriend/girlfriend label. It’s an explicit, reciprocated declaration that you are dedicating undivided attention to see if there’s more behind the “like like” you feel for each other than just the primal need to fuck like bunnies. There is a level of intent and commitment behind it that reduces the burnout from ascribing to “economies of scale” and eliminates the “tyranny of choice.”
I think the difference between the middle stage and a situationship is that a middle stage is mutually defined as an exploratory phase, whereas a situationship is, quite simply, not defined at all. In other words, you know it’s a situationship if, when a stranger asks, “oh are y’all dating,” the couple in question will melt into an awkward puddle of silence until the stranger, flustered, retracts their question and runs away. On the flip side, it’s a middle stage if the answer is something along the lines of “we’re testing out exclusivity to hopefully get there soon.”
What that ultimately translates into is two people positively aligned on a goal within a certain timeframe. By that definition, the middle stage can honestly start as early as the first date. The stakes really aren’t that high - it’s just a shift in mindset from the “date as many people as you can at the same time” paradigm.
As for how long the middle stage should last, I think minimum a month and maximum three. I’m not a relationship expert by any means, but I am an introspective 27-year old who does her own taxes.
Maybe I should start a TikTok.