Story by Charlotte Pan // @tchad_ensis // she/her/they/theirs

Graphic by Marley Crawford // she/her

A few weeks ago, I took a shower, deep in self-reflection, letting my thoughts ebb and flow with the water washing over me. Suddenly, a distinct memory resurfaced, piercing through the thick, foggy steam and exposing my vulnerability right in front of me. The memory was of a date I went on a few months before.

This date wasn’t just any date. It was with my middle school crush. For many people, this sounds like a dream come true, and for others, it sounds like a total nightmare. But regardless, thinking about our middle school crushes is pretty cringeworthy. However, I recognized at the time that an opportunity like this was rare, so I didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

As Gen-Z and cliche as it sounds, we reconnected through a dating app. We had stayed somewhat in touch throughout college via distant social media exchanges, run-ins on campus, and mutual friends. Still, we never became close friends – a theme that seemed to persist since middle school. So naturally, when he suddenly reappeared when I was casually swiping left and right, it sparked some excitement in my mundane quarantine life. 

I’m not one to take dating apps seriously at all, but a small part of me was genuinely curious about what could happen between us. What if the date went well? Could I still like him? Can crushes on people last for eight years? I let myself feel hopeful and optimistic about the date and a (dare I say) potential relationship forming. It was strange to feel this way toward a person considering how anti-relationships I was at the time and still am. But I guess a pandemic will do that to you. 

So the day came, and we went on our date. Well, to call it an actual date would be generous. Practicing social distancing while trying to reconnect, be funny, flirty, nice, and cute at the same time with a mask covering half your face is the opposite of a romantic date. We ended up walking around campus and sitting at the turtle pond, which I would call making the best of the situation. But the number one thing I noticed as our date progressed was that we had zero chemistry. 

When the date ended, he walked me back to my apartment building, and we made promises to hang out again soon — typical. The date wasn’t bad by any means, but it wasn’t exciting either. To be honest, I don’t remember feeling much of anything by the time I walked back into my apartment. 

How could someone I hyped up in my head  so much at 12-years-old be entirely average to me at 20?

Four months later, during my shower self-reflection, I reached a few conclusions on why my feelings surrounding the date were so conflicting. Transitioning into adulthood is an awkward process and dating during this turbulent period is uncomfortable, and what makes it worse is having it all happen amidst a pandemic.

Shifting my general priorities during the pandemic has impacted how I view a multitude of areas of my life. Despite feelings of intense loneliness and yearning for connections with my peers, I feel my dating standards have increased. The extended periods of isolation forced me to reflect and prioritize what is important to me. My time and feelings are now more valuable to me than ever, so being picky about who I date seems to work in my favor.

Admittedly, I was in a state of denial shortly after the date. I almost tried to force myself to like this person more than I truly did and be more excited than I was about the prospects of hanging out again. Eventually, my intuition kicked in, and I realized there wasn’t a point in forcing anything to happen. Our text messages fizzled out and before I knew it, he disappeared back into my past. 

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed. I realize now that disappointment stems from my high expectations. Expectations for not only who this person is now, but expectations of who they were in middle school. Maybe they evolved into someone whom I’m not compatible with. Perhaps they were never my “dream person” in the first place — and that’s okay too. 

I would assume that 12-year-old me would be crushed knowing this information, but my self-reflections prove how much I’ve changed over the years. I no longer associate romance with Taylor Swift’s Love Story music video but instead, take a more logical and realistic approach as a young adult. 

Although Taylor’s Love Story is romantic and appealing, those storylines are what I enjoyed in middle school. I don’t want to settle for something that once made me happy in the past but doesn’t excite me now. Thankfully, this situation reminded me that while change is inevitable, focusing on my needs in the present moment is most important.