Estimated reading time: 13 minutes
Dear Dr. NerdLove:
I’m a straight, single woman who’s trying to date, and like most women my age, most of the men I meet these days are off dating apps like Bumble and Hinge. While I do my best to screen the men I match with and meet up with, in the past couple of years, I have been on more bad first dates than good ones. There were the men who used wildly out of date photographs, men who lied in their profiles or deliberately omitted important information (such as being anti-abortion or Trump voters), and at least two that I confirmed used AI when we were still messaging but before we met. Those tended to be the exceptions. Most of my bad dates were just bad matches, rather than bad people.
With one exception where I felt so creeped out that the bartender helped me sneak out, the dates have been bad in the way that it was clear to me that there wasn’t any point in continuing. There often was no chemistry, or we didn’t have anything in common. More often than not, either I was carrying the burden of keeping the conversation alive by myself or they simply never asked any questions about me and so we only ever really talked about them. But aside from that one date that I had to flee, I’ve stuck them all out until it felt reasonable to call it a night.
At this point, I’ve become tired of sitting through dates that are pointless exercises in wasting everybody’s time. I’d much rather end things early than to spend an hour or two until I feel like I’m permitted to say that I need to leave, but without using an obvious excuse like a faked emergency phone call. At the same time, I feel bad wanting to leave early, like I should give them more of a chance to pull the date back from the brink. I also don’t want to upset someone who’s going to make a scene if I decide that I don’t see any reason to continue.
Is there a good way to end a date that is obviously going nowhere? How do I tell someone that I don’t see this working and I don’t want to waste any more of my time or theirs? Or do I need to wait until I’ve reached the minimum threshold for politeness before I retreat back to my apartment, my dog and a glass of wine that doesn’t cost $19?
Not Enough Time In The World
I would think having to go back and walk your dog would provide a natural “out”, if I’m being honest, NETITW. But lacking that, my first suggestion is simple: plan shorter first dates. Dating is a numbers game and online dating dials that up exponentially. As I’ve said before, there are many factors that determine attraction and compatibility that simply can’t be determined through text or even through video chat. You can have all the chemistry in the world when you’re messaging back and forth, but that doesn’t mean that you can trust that the chemistry will also be there when you’re sitting across the table from that person. As a result: you get a lot of false positives – folks who seem great on paper, but who lack that x-factor when you’re there in the flesh.
This is why I’m a big believer in a pre-date date or a vibe-check date when you’re meeting someone from a dating app. The idea is simple; you agree to meet up for coffee (or ice cream or whatever strikes your fancy) with a hard 15 to 20 minute time limit in order to determine whether or not there’s enough “there” there in order to go on a full date. If things go well, then you can plan a proper date later. If they don’t, you’ve only invested 15 minutes and the price of a latte.
You can also propose a date with a hard out – you’re going to meet up for, say, drinks, but you have to bail after an hour because you’ve got another engagement. It’s more of an investment of your time than the vibe check date but, again, it still means that you know that if this date is dull or going nowhere, you don’t have to lose an entire evening to it.
But my second suggestion is that, if you understand that this isn’t going to work, you go ahead and call it quits. Sticking around not only means that you’re both spending time for no good reason, but it also leads to the all-too-common scenario of one person thinking the date went wonderfully when the other person was ready to leave before the appetizers arrived but was too polite to say anything.
My suggestion is to find a moment to say “Hey, listen, it’s been nice and I appreciate you meeting up with me, but I don’t feel like we’re going to be a good match. I think it’s better for both of us to call it a night here; best of luck with your search,” then, if need be, put down enough cash to cover your half of the bill, plus tip. While you can adjust the phrasing as needed, I recommend emphasizing that you appreciate the date, but also that there won’t be a second one; the former acknowledges that this wasn’t awful and helps end things on a warmer note, but the latter makes it clear that this is ultimately not happening.
Also, as a slight aside: this is one benefit of getting drinks over dinner or otherwise going somewhere where you either pay when you get your order or can close your tab via your phone. If you pay as you go instead of starting a tab, you don’t have to delay leaving because you had to close out first.
Now admittedly, it’s easy for me to say this as a straight cis man; unless things have gotten very strange, I don’t have to factor in my personal safety when it comes to ending a date.
(It has happened, for the record, but as I said, that’s because shit got wild…)
A lot will depend on how reliable your Spidey-sense is and what kind of read you’re getting from your date. Sometimes giving that extra time is the price of not dealing with someone losing their shit at you even though you’re in a crowded and public venue. But for the most part? A warm thank you, covering your part of the bill and a “I don’t think we’re a good match” will do the job and you can free up the rest of your evening to do with as you will.
Good luck.
Dear Dr. NerdLove,
I’m in my late twenties and I don’t really have a social life, and I’ve mostly made peace with it because I genuinely don’t want to be a burden on anyone. People are busy. They have their own friends, their own families, their own stuff going on, and the last thing anyone needs is some guy texting them to hang out or, worse, making things awkward by bringing up feelings. So I don’t reach out much. If someone invites me to something, great, I’ll go. But I’m not going to be the one initiating, because what if they only said yes to be polite, or what if I text too much and become “that guy” who’s always around?
Dating is the same problem times ten. I’ll notice someone I like, and I’ll think about saying something, and then I think about how she’s probably got people already interested in her who are more put-together than me, and how if I say something and she’s not interested, that’s now a thing she has to deal with and maybe feel bad about turning down, and it’s just easier for everyone if I don’t put her in that position. I tell myself I’m being considerate. A lot of people in my life describe me as “easygoing” and “low-maintenance,” and I guess that’s true, but it’s also starting to feel like I’ve optimized my whole personality around never being a problem for anyone, and somehow I’m still alone at the end of it.
I should say, nothing bad really happened to make me this way. No major rejection story, no trauma. I think I’ve just always been like this, hanging back, letting other people make the first move on everything, and if they don’t, well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I keep telling myself that if something’s right it’ll happen naturally without me having to push for it. I just want to know how to build more of a social life and maybe eventually date someone without imposing on people who didn’t ask for it.
Just Trying Not to Be a Bother
You’ve summed up the entire problem right here, TNTBAB: “it’s also starting to feel like I’ve optimized my whole personality around never being a problem for anyone, and somehow I’m still alone at the end of it.” Although, to be honest, I’m not sure why you say “somehow”, because this is the most obvious and inevitable outcome.
Look, I’m going to be very blunt with you here: this isn’t about not wanting to be a bother. This is about wanting to avoid even the possibility of rejection and abdicating all responsibility for anything that happens. You can frame it however you want, but trying to make it about not wanting to inconvenience anyone is a self-serving deception and we both know it.
Let me be clear; this has nothing to do with not wanting to be a bother, and everything to do with your sense of self-worth. You have pre-rejected yourself based on nothing but your own feelings about yourself and that excuses you from having to make the attempt in the first place. This is akin to the root cause of approach anxiety; it’s the belief and fear that there is nothing about you as a person that other people might find interesting or attractive and so you avoid even trying.
Making excuses for it doesn’t help, because it only serves to prolong and exacerbate the problem. The belief that “if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen without having to push for it” is categorically false; nobody is going to be so invested in you that they’re going to do all the work for you. Especially if you’re not giving even the slightest indication of interest on your part. And no, reciprocal interest or saying yes to things that you were invited to doesn’t count – certainly not if you’re not ever going to make a move, start a conversation first or otherwise reach out to other people.
The fact of the matter is that your behavior is going to convince other people that you don’t actually like them. Even if someone is initiating the conversations with you or trying to invite you to things, they will notice that all the effort is one-sided. Among established social groups, where people know each other and have spent significant time together, that’s less of a problem. People still feel bad about being The Planner or The One Who Reaches Out First, but it’s much easier to see the difference between “ok, these are the social roles we’ve fallen into” versus “this person only cares enough to respond out of politeness, but clearly doesn’t like me that much”.
You know… the thing that you’re afraid of other people doing to you.
As I’ve told many, many men before: if you’re not asking people out on dates, taking any sort of initiative or otherwise expressing any sort of interest, then all you’re doing is ensuring that nothing is going to happen. There is no world in which hoping that someone else is going to come along, spare you the stress of having to actually do any sort of work and also ensure that you never have to risk rejection or a moment’s awkwardness. If you’re waiting for some super extrovert to come along and forcibly adopt you… well, you’re going to be waiting a long, long time.
Even someone who really, really likes you is going to need you to carry your end of the relationship, including being the person to reach out first, text first, make plans and generally act like you like them. And while I can already hear you saying “but by then I’ll know I’m not bothering them…” no. No, you will not. You won’t get to that stage, in part because your relationship won’t last that long. But also, because the whole “I don’t want to be a bother” isn’t going to stop, even if you know they want to hear from you. This is something lots of people still wrestle with, even when dealing with friends of many years.
But here’s the thing: even people who still wrestle with that worry will reach out first and risk bothering their friends. Because they know that, even if it’s a bother, their friends won’t mind. And if it is a problem, they know their friends can tell them so, gently, and not have it be a risk to their friendship. So they grit their teeth and do the scary thing anyway.
If you want to meet people and build relationships, you’re going to have to risk ‘imposing’ on them. There is no such thing as a frictionless existence; you exist in the world, which means that there will be friction. There will be times when you are going to be bothering someone. There will be times when you’re going to interrupt them or make demands on their time. There is no avoiding this because we are all imperfect beings and sometimes we’re going to bump up against one another. That’s just life. Learning how to navigate that and handle those bumps and friction with grace is part of living.
But the thing you need to understand is: most of the time, that imposition is so minor that it’s not even noticeable or worth mentioning. Many times, it’s not even a problem. Just as importantly: when it is a problem, folks will let you know. In fact, I would be willing to go so far as to say that the worry that they’re just being polite is a matter of projection. I would be willing to bet five bucks cash money that you are the one who has a hard time telling people that you can’t talk right now or this is an inconvenience.
And I hate to tell you this, but the way you get over this is to stop shrinking yourself to avoid being even the slightest inconvenience. You are going to have to learn to not just take up space but to do so unapologetically. You are going to have to learn to value yourself enough to believe that, even if you are being a minor inconvenience, that people will be fine with it that inconvenience because it’s you. If you can’t believe in your own worth enough to express interest in someone and to have enough belief to not be shattered by even the mildest rejection, nobody else is going to believe in it for you. And they certainly aren’t going to believe in it for you to a degree that it will make the relationship work. The best outcome is going to be someone getting tired of constantly having to reassure you that yes, they like you and no, they’re not feeling stuck or trapped or doing this because they have to. Because hey, turns out if you ask someone that enough times… the answer will be “no, I don’t like you any more”.
You’re looking for a way to not have to change, and that’s not going to happen. If you want relationships of any kind, you’re going to have to get comfortable with friction, get comfortable with overcoming the worry of making a mistake and get comfortable with the possibility and inevitability of rejection. Because everyone gets rejected; nobody is immune. But there’s also no reward without that risk. The risk is the price of entry, and experience will teach you that rejection isn’t nearly as bad as you think it is.
But that won’t happen until you stop apologizing for your existence. You have to learn to love yourself enough to take up space and risk bothering others, and then actually put yourself out there. You’re going to have to learn by doing, the same as everyone else does. Until you do, nothing is going to change.
Good luck.
