Uncomplicated Dating: A Modern Take on Love and Relationships
In a world that often equates relationship status with emotional stability, choosing to live (and love) on your own terms can feel radical. But what if romance didn’t have to come with cohabitation, compromise, or long-term expectations? In this personal reflection, I explore the joy of "uncomplicated dating": deep connections, unforgettable chemistry, and tender moments shared without the pressure to merge lives. From luxury travels and passionate encounters to introspective truths about marriage, singledom, and societal norms, this is a love letter to living freely (and loving wisely).
Anyone who lives alone and manifests no longing to be in a relationship is, in today’s world, almost automatically viewed as both pitiable and deeply troubled. It’s simply not thought possible to be at once alone and normal. A huge number of people who have no innate wish to live with anyone else and are, at heart, deeply ill-suited to doing so are coerced and shamed into conjugal life, with disastrous results for all involved.
I’ve just spent the most incredible month jet-setting around Asia, after returning from South Africa and Australia. In all the cities I’ve visited, I was lucky enough to connect with awesome gentlemen. We explored restaurants together, laughed, had very vulnerable and deep conversations (despite being, quite literally, strangers to each other), experienced undeniable chemistry, overwhelming sexual pleasure, watched sunsets and sunrises, and held hands. All these amazing dates were unique and special but had one common denominator: when the date was over, we both went back to our own lives. And I love that. I love my life: I love sleeping in my own bed with no one who snores or farts next to me, I love taking myself to the spa almost daily, I love not having to clean and tidy after anyone, and I love being able to do what I want, when I want to.
* Pictured: me at the spa on a random Monday @ Aman Tokyo
I also absolutely love what I call "uncomplicated dating” (perhaps more widely known as “girlfriend experience” or “GFE”), which I’m able to experience and provide thanks to being a companion:
- I love how deep, personal, and vulnerable chats can get on the first date; there’s something so special about being able to open up to a stranger, where set boundaries are in place, that people who have not engaged in uncomplicated dating will never understand.
- I’m a sucker for old-school romance: thanks to uncomplicated dating, I have experienced extraordinary romantic gestures and phenomenal date setups that took my breath away. But I understand that these may not be sustainable over the long term in a “normal” dating or relationship dynamic, which would likely lead to my disappointment. It’s my belief (based on my experience) that relationships best suit those who don't expect too much from them, and that fervent romantics (like myself) should be especially careful of ending up in mediocre relationships.
- I love the physical intimacy: I’ve had some mind-blowing sex thanks to uncomplicated dating, the kind you think about for weeks, if not months, later. I’ve also had some pretty average encounters, and that was great too, because when it was over, it was back to our own lives, with no expectations to date, marry, introduce each other to our respective parents, or say hi to each other on Sundays at church. We were back to being two complete strangers, but with no resentment, since there were never any expectations to begin with.
The essence of companionship is always being in the sweet spot of dating. It’s like having all the champagne, without the hangover. No wonder it is addictive.
*Pictured: sweetness overload
I think you can tell from what I wrote so far not only that I’m not a victim forced into this "job", but also that I love my life as it is right now and have no plans to change it anytime soon. I often hear the usual “you should get married now or no one will look after you when you’re old.” So, I’ve started reflecting on this: is it really good for us, and even for the other person involved, to marry simply because we want someone to care for us when we’re old and infirm? Let’s say we marry at 30, the honeymoon phase is over at 34, and we realise we actually like different things or can’t stand each other anymore. Do we need to force ourselves to stay together for the next 40 years, just so we’ll have someone to care for us when we’re elderly? Isn’t that what nursing homes are for? On this note, there are some pretty cool ones around these days, also called “retirement villages.” Some people will also (quite selfishly) have kids for the exact same reason: fear of being alone when old and infirm. But I see now that, while I make a conscious effort to visit my family often, most of my friends see their parents only for a couple of hours every few months, if at all, and sometimes not even at Christmas. An increasing number of people I know no longer have relationships with their parents, for various reasons. Some have moved to the other side of the globe (Australia, for example) and catch up in person once every three years. Is “not wanting to be lonely” really a valid (and fair) reason to get married and have kids?
I also remember overhearing at one of my old corporate jobs a conversation between two bosses (and that’s when I knew I needed to get out of there or my life would have become like theirs) where they both admitted to being with their respective partners simply because they couldn’t afford a mortgage on their own. I’m not one to judge. If your dream is to own a house, do what you gotta do to reach your goal. But perhaps it would help to manage expectations and clearly see the partner for what they are: a mortgage co-signer, not “your other half,” as they liked to refer to their partners during most conversations.
It then became obvious to me that we’re trying to do something highly ambitious in our modern ideals of relationships: unite sex, affection, the raising of a family, a career, and adequate material security. My current belief is that we will, by necessity, fail to achieve all of these. Romantic love is a very new, ambitious, and odd concept: at best, 250 years old. Before then, people lived together without any very high expectations of being blissfully content doing so.
After reading my thoughts above, you might think that I don’t believe in love, never want to get married, and am to relationships what the Grinch is to Christmas. That couldn’t be further from the truth; I actually consider myself a hopeless romantic; but I’ve also always been a realist in all aspects of life, ever since I was little. I realise that it’s hard to convey all my thoughts clearly and correctly in a blog post (or perhaps I’m just not great at doing so!). First of all, this is only my thinking at the time of writing. I love allowing myself to change my mind on all topics (isn’t that the definition of wisdom?), and I’m very open to new conversations and experiences that might change my mind on this or any topic. For now, I’m definitely enjoying my time jet-setting around the world and going on remarkable dates in all corners of the globe. One thing I do firmly believe, and probably won’t change my mind on, is that one of the most important preconditions for finding love is, oddly enough, having spent a significant period of time on our own. The more we are happy to be on our own, the more we will be able to exercise the correct degree of caution when finding a new romantic partner.
*Pictured: me enjoying my single life: eating pizza naked just hits different
The bedrock of true love is happy singledom. But societies do very little to help us be calm or at ease in our own company. Singledom is framed as an involuntary, depressing, and always hopefully temporary state. The notion that someone might want or need to be on their own, perhaps for a long while, terrifies a world shaped by legions of silently miserable couples who need confirmation that they have not chosen the wrong path. Unfortunately, being miserable while single fatally undermines our judgment about who we might get together with. In emotional desperation, we might run into the nearest nightclub to secure a chump we’ll be appalled to find beside us at daybreak. Eventually, we’ll learn that being in an unsatisfactory relationship is, in fact, worse (indeed, even lonelier) than being alone.
In conclusion, when love knocks at my door next, I will welcome it, and I will ask my prince charming for two lovely mansions next to each other: one for him, and one for me. That way, we can be all over each other but also have our own space. I believe it is a sign of great maturity to recognise that living full time with someone isn’t something I’m psychologically capable of, because a good portion of us simply aren’t.
Are you intrigued by my random thoughts thrown into this messy 'blog article'? Want to discuss this (or any other) topic a little more, perhaps with a glass of Chablis by a crackling fireplace in London, or over a seafood platter somewhere in the Med? I’m just a booking form away...
