Any room left for romantic love?

The timing of the post, i.e. one day after the commercial festival of celebrating romantic love which should be fostered every day, is haphazard. Also, it is not linked to the 17th anniversary of launching PES (dammit, this blog spans nearly my entire adult life and in four years, if I carry on, it will cover a half of my lifetime).

As I grow older, I also turn less romantic and more pragmatic. I would probably be unable to fall in love like a teenager, but circumstances permitting, the chemistry in my brain would do its job for a while, but I would put it down to mostly to sexual drive, not just to pure affection. As the fellow blogger posits, understand your biology, then rise above it.

Even if I don't stay at home and grab opportunities to meet new people, rules of statistics are against me. Even if I get to know 20 new people each week, which looks like a decent outcome, statistically half of them are men, most women are not in the age range of my lookout, those who are in their 30s might be in relationships, might not be physically attractive, might not find me attractive, might not be interested in raising a family. And so the next filters relentlessly narrow down the circle of potential life companions.

My generation is the first one not to feel the coercion to raise a family, which now looms as an option only for those who instinctually don't want our species to extinct. We are also witnessing a generation of independent women, cherishing equal rights, with the side effect of realising having a man by their side does not have to add value. Being in a relationship is viewed as beneficial if drawbacks of giving up on a woman's independence are offset with a surplus by what a man contributes to the relationship. Otherwise a male life companion is (for a growing fraction of women) a ball and chain. With the bar raised that high, a growing majority of men do not live up to women's expectations, some even give up on trying.

For many reasons, including the above, we observe a growing percentage of singletons in the society, many of whom have never been in a serious (involving making commitments or living under one roof) relationship, thus many lacking relationship-building competencies. Once you get used to living on your own and not minding anyone, letting in somebody to your life, changing habits, routines and plans involves some effort. This remark applies to me. In my life filled with work, volunteering, friends, helping parents, doing sports and other stuff, I also need to choose to make room to let somebody in.

Women and men are sadly at war today. The most common explanation, which is true, but not universal, is that women have moved ahead with their social advancement, while men have not caught up. In more complicated cases it turns out even those men who do not lag behind are insufficient, since they meet only 90% of women’s expectations are hence are not knights on white horses. Women are sick of bitter experiences inflicted by immature men, men are sick of women’s exorbitant requirements. Their picture of the conflict between females and males is grossly simplified. Besides, movements such as MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way) are not fix. Taking umbrage with how the world has moved on and blaming women for their own backwardness and other intellectual hollow is an approach I will never embrace (mark my words).

Od ja do my - book review

Volant is one of those contemporary Polish influencers whose online career began with blogging and with time expanded into social media and books (which often are just a well-arranged compilation of blog posts written over time). As his recognisability grew, Volant quit his anonymity and appears publicly under real name, Michał Szatiło. He is one of most renowned gurus of romantic relationships in Poland, privately a husband and father of two daughters, practising what he preaches. After years of hard work, he monetises on his popularity. His books are available online only and the one I'm about to review would set you back PLN 99 + delivery cost. I have hunted a used one in OLX, saved PLN 40 and have not helped Mr Szatiło out.

When setting about reading, I was sceptical towards the book, anticipating some 10% of its content would be ground-breaking. Astonishingly, I found between 20% and 30% to be of added value.

Volant posits (right on) the percentage of singletons these days is high since people tend to claim something has gone wrong with other people and with the world itself. Making a martyr of yourself and bearing a grudge against all potential partners who do not stack up against your perfection is the ideal recipe not to pair up by the end of your days. I need to take it to heart.

Easing up, as Volant advises, is the first, yet still insufficient step. Opportunities to do things, explore, visit places and... go places crop up every day. Seize them, as they involve meeting new people via whom you can get to know other new people and boost your chances to find a life companion offline.

To impress somebody you need to be attractive. You won’t change your look, apparition, height, sometimes you have limited impact on your weight, but a charming person is characterised by a beautiful mind and broad horizons. Therefore "doing your bit" is essential if you want to be perceived an attractive human. Volant tells you as an adult who left university, whose network has loosened, almost always you will start doing your bit on your own and only then people will join and follow you.

The author puts on the agenda one of my primary worries which has kept me company for years, i.e. I do not approach a woman romantically until I make sure she is not in a relationship. But if she indeed is taken, she should turn me down politely and I should back down, doing my best not to waste an opportunity.

While trying to pick out factors which bode well for a relationship in the long run, Volant selects three: the look (a sexual attraction is a must) which brings partners together, similar lifestyle and values which keep them together.

Dating apps are considered a valuable option, provided people who match each other ought to meet up offline possibly quickly. While face to face, the first conversation matters. It often follows a scheme of asking and answering questions about each other, resembling a mutual interrogation. Instead, people should talk about their goals, values, dreams, inhibitions and dislikes, boosting the odds of finding a common tongue.

If it clicks in, an early stage of a relationship develops. It is the time when partners make mistakes which impinge on the rest of their life together. This is the time for being 100% oneself, but not bending over backwards to be 200% yourself, to set boundaries and to talk over issues which arise as red flags. A fear of rejection, unjustified hopes things will shape up and other factors keep most people in the circle of those mistakes and consequently most of them end up in unsatisfactory relationships.

Volant calls into question a popular assertion that building a relationship must take a lot of effort. He claims a decent relationship needs to be fostered, but he compares it a long walk in flat terrain, which is a form of light physical exercise and contrasts it to a steep climb uphill, which involves substantial strain. He says if your relationship over the first two years is a road uphill, most likely it is a dead-end one.

Online dating – first chapter closed in 2025

Half a year past terminating the last relationship, the time was up to open myself for some new mating opportunities. I have not yearned badly for pairing up with somebody. I still remember how lousy the recent relationship was at times and appreciate benefits of being single and superiority of such status over being in a dead-end relationship. On the other hand, I do not want myself to get too used to being on my own, hence the decision to stray out of the comfort zone.

Given the above, I should have cared little and had fun from meeting new women and giving them up if we did not fit each other. Instead, I ended up quite stressed out, totally not pertinently to magnitude of dating. I still have not dug into reasons of my distress.

Dating applications have somewhat moved on since my previous short episode with them in spring 2022 (not saved for posterity here). The crucial change from my viewpoint is a declaration on family plans. You can choose to write (or not to fill it in) whether you want to have offspring, not want it, do not know yet or are open to it. The former two declarations are clear, with women who do not want children being swipe left by me. With the latter two I do have an issue. A woman aged 25 might still not consider whether to have children, but a woman aged around 35, given her time is running out, should have made up her mind already. The “open to kids” badge is even more confusing. Given the hardships of pregnancy and upbringing, responsibilities and limitations parenthood involves, having nothing against having your life turned upside down sounds at best absurdly. Unless it means they don’t mind their partner having children from previous relationships.

Until now I met four girls. Spoiler alert – there was no second date in any case.

The first girl, Agata, aged 31. Was kind of businesslike, determined to raise a family soon. Before we met, she had begun a straightforward evaluation of me, mentioning several times if I had been awarded an upside or a downside. With limited hope it would click in I decided to meet her. The offline chat was nice, although overly revolved around her previous experiences with men, with a story of her peer, who struggled to have an erection and asked if they could watch porn together too boost his desire, being just the tip of the iceberg. We mutually agreed the chemistry was badly missing and went separate ways.

The second girl, Ola, aged 32. With hindsight, I wondered why I had swiped her right, but decided to give it a try. Subjective red flags cropped up soon, meaning I spotted potential conflict areas I have gone through in previous relationships and given I learn from my mistakes, I have resolved to back out of this after the first date. I communicated it openly one day after we met offline, as out of four girls she was the only one intent on developing the relationship.

The third girl, Monika, aged 34. Quite brisk and talkative in the app, turned out to be a bit of shy when we met offline to take a walk together. I suppose she was a kind if disillusioned when she confronted her image of me with me in reality. There was no major chemistry, however since her bio in the app was scant, I could have risked continuing getting to know her better. The morning after our date the match in the app was deleted. I have been ghosted and have not gotten over it lightly. It was not the very rejection, but the silent form it which has left me slightly burnt and bruised. If you treat people on your way with respect and communicate unpleasant messages openly, even if it depletes you of energy, theoretically you do not deserve to be ghosted. Nevertheless, such practice is prevalent in online dating and however crummy it is, there is no way to avoid it altogether.

The fourth girl, Dominika, aged 34. Seemed the nicest, a good soul and looking really nice. Messaging between us nearly faded after around a week, but in a whiff of irritation after being ghosted by Monika, I asked her to communicate openly if she did not want to meet me (she first proposed an offline walk). To my surprise, she did not give up on me and eventually we met. Chemistry was not in the air and the next day she informed it had been our first and last meeting.

For the time being my impression is that much has changed in dating apps since 2020, sadly for the worse. Maybe my sample is too small, but I observe communication skills on the wane. I could blame myself, but in other social situations my conversations go on smoothly and do not need to be awkwardly upheld. Maybe it is just the lack of chemistry, maybe involvement of only one person to carry on with talking.

Maths-wise, with more single women than men in my age in Warsaw or around, my reasonably decent look and other features, things should go well. The reality turns out to be against me. Pragmatically, I want to build a relationship with a woman who shares most values with me and wants to raise a family soon. The core reason, which I have identified away from the dating apps is that many single women in their 30s have their decent lives, filled with activities, live it up and prefer to be single to pairing up with a “good enough” partner. Besides, a man is hard to be squeezed into daily scheduled filled with work, pets, hobbies, sport, friends and family. I have asked ChatGPT why developed countries are plagued with an epidemic of singletons and its response unsurprisingly squares with my observations. A lower percentage of people in relationships is one of major causes of the demographic crisis exacerbating in Poland (fertility rate in my homeland gets close to 1.0).

Time to come up with an alternative vision of life if I do not manage to find a life companion to set up a family with. Given how ghastly the prospects of finding a reasonable woman are, throwing in a towel and settling for a lonely life might one day become the preferable option…

Online dating – second chapter… not closed yet

I have not stuck to my resolution to stay away from Tinder for a while, at least until lockdown restrictions were eased or I cooled off. Some say the application is addictive, but I put down setting up a renewed profile on Tinder in late April to lockdown-driven blues. Surrounded by the walls of my flat, I longed for a company (socially, but also physically).

Girl 5, Natalia, aged 29.

We met on Monday, 4 May. Cafes and restaurants were still closed so the only option was a walk and… a meal at a park (Natalia had baked a cake for that occasion). I had a quite nice evening, broke out of home for a good few hours to lift my moods, though we both knew the chemistry was badly missing and were well-mannered enough to speak it out. Since then we texted a few times.

Girl 6, Marta, aged 29

She was one of two girls who texted me first. In terms of proactivity, Tinder is quite conservative and men are broadly expected to start a conversation. She wanted to buy a bike and asked if I could advise her – an ingenious idea on how to pick up a boy. We met first in a bicycle shop on Wednesday, 13 May, then went for a walk. Over the first hour the conversation did not go beyond small talk, but I decided to take one more chance and asked if I could drive her home. The chat went on track in the car, then we talked for around an hour upon parking outside her block of flats. We met again three days later. I bought strawberries, made a cake and took her for a picnic at the shore of Vistula. The afternoon was chilly, yet the date was more than good. Next three days later we met again, the date spontaneously ended in her flat and lasted until next morning. The abrupt acceleration of the relationship also brought forward its end, as truth be told, we were not a perfect match, or straightforwardly, did not fit each other (yet it transpired early). It was the second time I learnt “no ONS, no FwB” in a description means “don’t start a conversation asking if we could have sex; instead prove you deserve to shag me”. Took me some two or three days to get over the experience and realise why people make off after an intercourse instead of eating a breakfast together.

Girl 7, Magda, aged 28

On Sunday, 24 May I was matched with her, as she was seeking a partner to attend a wedding with. I did not feel like texting, so I asked her out for a coffee two days later. Mere seven days after the most recent “adventure” I felt remorse to date another girl and pretend to be a kind guy. We drank two teas and then went for a walk, the meeting lasted over three hours and we declared to stay in touch. Two days later I was quite confused to learn she wanted a friend, not a boyfriend, which was quite puzzling to me, as this does not seem a reason to use a dating application. I thanked for the nice evening and we cut each other off.

Girl 8, Kasia, aged 31

We met on Tuesday, 2 June. She is a book worm, so I decided to take her to a bookshop where we spent around the first hour of the date talking about books, then moved on to drink a coffee. The chemistry was missing at least on my side, however we agreed to stay in touch and exchange opinions about books. Until today we text each other a few times a week, hence I actually have another person who shares my interests (since the beginning of the lockdown I have read more than 20 books which before had been my yearly count).

Girl 9, Kasia (and here names begin to repeat), aged 36

After a few days of writing one message per day she insisted on a face-to-face meeting. I agreed. We met on Saturday, 6 June. Out of all girls met on Tinder, she was the oldest (though later I learnt she used to be in a long-term relationship) and seemed extremely shy. After the first day, I could not say it made no sense, therefore I decided to give it a second try. On Corpus Christi I repeated the rehearsed scenario of taking a girl out to a beach and felt guilty on account of this. Cross my heart, this was the most disastrous date I had this year and prayed for its end. I drove her home and experienced a sigh of relief after she got off. The next day I texted her there was no use in trying any harder and wish luck in searching. I thought the time was right to give up dating for some time as the pace of taking next attempts accelerated too rapidly, to the extent I could call dating a sport, but my will was not the strongest in that respect.

Girl 10, Natalia, aged 32

We met the day before yesterday, we meet today. Time will tell how the story unfolds.

Tinder is given a bad name by several people who have never used it. Allegedly, looking for a life companion there resembles looking for a needle in a haystack.  Supposedly, it is a cluster of people with several sort of psychological problems. Most people do not get ahead there and say the application can get you down. I, conversely, see more upsidse. It bolstered my self-confidence, boosted social skills, finally, I realised again being alone is superior to being by someone’s side but not feeling comfortable. Thanks to Tinder I will have some nice memories from the lockdown.

Despite several drawbacks of the application, most of which can be overcome by being selective in choice of potential partners, it has one huge advantage. The law of big numbers works here in practice and is probably the only place where one can scores of people one would not stand a chance to meet in daily life, no matter how active and social it would be.

The biggest downside is the repeatable scheme of writing, then dating, which in fact is checking whether you would pair up lacks the chemistry appearing gradually, which is observable when you meet people in different circumstances in real life.

Online dating – first chapter closed

In this bleak period I feel obliged to follow up on my hands-on experience with the most popular online dating application. As I pointed out in the opening post, the question why so many attractive women are single, remains valid, with all my suppositions shared then holding plausible.

Girl 1, Ewa (names not changed), aged 31

We started texting on Tuesday, 11 February. The Tinder conversation went on smoothly, then we switched to Messenger and met in a cafeteria in Galeria Mokotów on Sunday, 16 February, evening. Except for the greeting part, when Ewa offered to pay for us both, underlining she was “a strong and independent woman” and I had to convince her I would pay as the one who had asked her out, the date was quite successful, without a moment of silence (which is the worst that can happen during first date). We were forced to farewell by the café staff as the closing time had come. Ewa promised to ask me out, yet after two or three days she ceased to write voluntarily and her replies to my messages were more and more succinct. The conversation died out naturally, or in other words Ewa vanished like a ghost. No regrets, as Ewa, as a workaholic and clinging excessively on to her independence, would not have been a perfect match.

On 21 February I removed my first Tinder profile and set up a revamped one. Having familiarised with how the application worked, I decided to start over and boost my chances to pair up.

Girl 2, Justyna, aged 34

We started texting on Friday, 28 February and met in town on Tuesday, 3 March. She turned out to be a nice, quite shy, yet crazy girl, though in terms of physical attractiveness not fitting my taste. During our meeting she confessed she was still getting over a break-up with her ex-boyfriend and actually told me the (pitiful) story of their relationship. As a matter of principle, some time ago I had resolved to cease to serve as a shoulder to cry on for heartbroken women and I stick to it. We texted for a while and in late March we officially wrote the final “goodbyes” to each other. Lost without regret.

Girl 3, Joanna, aged 29

We started texting on Tuesday, 10 March. Circumstances were not favourable to meet in person, yet Joanna, a psychiatrist working at Sz**tal Bró****ski adjudicated it would be safe to go for a walk. We met in late afternoon on Sunday, 15 March, as first lockdown measures were already in place. I chose ul. Płatnicza at Stare Bielany as a venue. We had a nice, nearly two-hour walk, however I believe she was somewhat disillusioned upon confronting how she had imagined me with the reality. After the meeting the exchange of messages got less intense, finally three days later she apologised for not being in touch and to get back once things shape up. I realised this was a lie, yet I am not sure whether it was about me or about the COVID-19 related mess at her workplace (my friend’s father works there, so I know this could have been the reason).

Girl 4, Ola, aged 29

I was about to give up on Tinder, but during a tedious teleconference with a client on Friday 20 March, out of pure boredom I began swiping profiles. She became my match two days later and just out of good manner I decided to start a conversation. Ola had returned from abroad on 16 March and was staying at home for 2 weeks as part of obligatory quarantine. This meant we had to wait to meet until Tuesday, 31 March, on the last day when walks in the groups of two were permitted. The two-hour walk ended in her flat which I left… around midnight. We then met three times more before Easter, then she travelled to her family home for Easter, with intention to stay there for a while and… signalled she was not interested in continuing the relationship. Given in many respects she was not a perfect match, little regret again. I feel guilty. I had decided to go out (or rather stay in) with her for two reasons – I felt lonely during the lockdown and my hormones were (and still are) buzzing. We got physical far too quickly and this was a mistake. I initiated everything, she was passively giving in, lacking assertiveness to tell me to back down if she felt uncomfortably. Besides, during texting before meeting in reality she told she did not want a boy intent on developing just the physical aspect of the relationship, so I must have let her down, or she could have felt deceived.

What I have learnt about myself or rather what has been confirmed?

1. I am not cut out for online communication. I cannot waste more than a few days texting before meeting up. I totally do not understand how people can exchange messages for weeks before they see each other.

2. I need to hold on to something, i.e. I need to feel the commitment of a girl, otherwise I clam up and let go.

3. Statistically, most girls I could meet are not perfect matches, this is absolutely normal, yet the form of rejection matter. I have no problem communicating to a girl there is no future for us and have no problem getting such message. But I do have problem with ghosting, which is the cruellest and most painful form of rejection.

4. When texting with a girl, I did not build an image of her in my mind. While setting off to meet, I would rather get to know her nearly from scratch. On the girls’ side, I feel my Tinder profile was creating a better impression of me than I did myself in reality.

Having dated four women over the last two months I need now a break to bring myself into order. After the last experience, I am in process of convincing myself I am not a rapist and should not feel overly guilty of the fast progress of getting to know Ola very well. Next, I will need to convince myself not every woman will hurt or deceive me and that some women might have some courage and will not vanish into the air.

Had it not been for the pandemic, I would probably set up a new profile on Tinder, though it would be more advisable to take my time and cool off. Coping with the past is under way, yet prospects of future are disheartening. With stringent lockdown measures in place, social life has to be put on hold for indefinite time. No days to count down, no chance to meet somebody in the real world, while just living it up. Except for longing for direct contact with other humans, I am reasonably doing well in the lockdown. Maybe if the epidemic eases and restrictions are lifted, some forms of real-world dating will become possible again.