Date Him Until You Hate Him

On modern dating, romantic consumerism and why the second chance matters

A couple of months ago I saw a post by my dear friend (I haven’t seen her in a decade, but that doesn’t matter). She’s an impressive woman—maybe a couple of years older than me. She was one of the leaders of Russia’s gastro-enthusiasm, helped change the industry, and was definitely one of those women who can do it all—and whom you’d never imagine saying out loud something like: I’m looking for a husband.

So imagine my surprise when I saw a bold, vulnerable, insanely good post with exactly that title. I was… shockingly happy. Here’s what she wrote:

I’m looking for a husband.

In culture there’s a stereotype: “if a woman says she’s looking for a husband, it must mean something is wrong with her.” For me it’s the opposite — I’m ready for a union. I’m 41. I don’t want to play the “there’s still plenty of time” game. I want this now. This isn’t an “re-sale listing” where the product lines read “he must / I offer.”

I wrote a manifesto of my readiness. I’ve matured into honesty. Before, I could dodge the subject, play it off with “well, if I meet someone, fine.” Now I have clarity: I want a husband, a family, children, a shared home.

The world I want to build with my husband

I want to build a world where there is:

— A home and land. We choose the place together, walk the land, grow a garden, love the banya, the vegetable patch, fire. A place of strength and joy.

— Family and children. We have a child or children together. It’s wonderful if he has children of his own — and they’re part of our family too.

— Closeness and joy. Lots of hugs, kisses, flirting, laughter. We hold hands, fall asleep wrapped around each other, hug just because.

— Emotional maturity. We can talk, share, live through emotions without shouting or shutting down — openly and honestly in our feelings.

— Building and creativity. He and I both have our own work, projects, businesses that already stand on their own. We’re interested in building together — from a home to philanthropy and projects for the world.

— Values. Legacy, roots, ecology, ambition with meaning. Leaving a mark.

— Life energy. Not frozen, not “forever young,” and not exhausted. We have maturity and a taste for life: travel, mountains, new impressions.

This is a world where we share joys and multiply them. A union where each person remains themselves — and the union makes there be more.

She posted this in September. She met someone the next day. They’re together now, building a path toward each other. She continues to surprise me by sharing her observations as it unfolds. I read them all, and I’m genuinely excited to see this kind of conversation exist openly—out of real self-love, not desperation.

I barely talk about my personal life in public, but this moment (and this topic) feels worth a couple of words. Maybe even a few paragraphs.

I’ve been single for most of my life. My relationship to that “status” evolved from an unconscious choice, to a conscious sacrifice, to a search for bright feelings — maybe even an “explosion”— and finally to something else: valuing connection and belonging. So no, “serial monogamist” is not a correct title for me. But I’ve been lucky to have a few magnificent love stories — stories I’m not sure everyone gets to have.

I don’t want to paint my whole generation with one brush, blame nationalities, or reduce everything to modern romance patterns. But speaking from my experience as a woman in her mid-30s, living in a Mediterranean/Middle Eastern country (depending on who’s asking), in the era of online dating—which, in some ways, resembles delivery services—I’ve turned dating into a numbers game. I catch myself using business terminology about something that’s supposed to be intimate, even sacred: conversion rate, pitch, even SWOT analyses. It’s upsetting, isn’t it?

Often I find myself in the hallway, about to leave for a date, and wanting to cancel—simply because I feel lazy. What kind of “success rate” (you see!) can you expect when you show up with that kind of energy? There’s barely any excitement about the meeting. Dates became too casual…

Even sex has lost some of its charm (and I love sex — in practice, in anthropology, and in conversation), because it’s become too easy to find, and the whole thing starts to feel transactional. You say “thank you” to each other and never meet again.

So how the hell do you get butterflies about meeting someone new? When was the last time I felt slightly nervous before a date, or had that healthy tension building up beforehand? It’s been a while.

And if I take it even further: are butterflies / spark / some dramatic reaction even necessary for a first date? Today, I’d say: no.

People barely meet IRL. It’s even harder if, like me, you don’t drink alcohol, rarely end up in bars, and have an ambivert social function that switches on only when needed. A tiny hack: dogs are a great lubricant for small talk. Matteo has already organized me a couple of dates.

Another upsetting pattern I’ve noticed (and no, it’s not ghosting): people stopped giving each other chances. They cut it immediately and that’s it. One guy even told me: “If a girl doesn’t send me full-body selfies before the date, the date isn’t happening.” As you can imagine, I never met him.

DATE HIM TILL YOU HATE HIM - If it’s not a definite no, give it as many chances as you can. You can get surprised.

And then there are the 40-ish gentlemen (and ladies) who look perfect on paper—careful, intellectual, Cambridge or Harvard alumni, well-established—who say all the right, pleasant nonsense and still never make it into real life. They can chat for weeks, even months. They’re not looking for a date. They’re looking for validation: a match, a few likes, a long thread that makes them feel wanted—without ever having to show up.

We invest so much into our work, projects, friendships (hopefully), and wellbeing—but with relationships we assume they should “just happen.” And if it doesn’t happen perfectly right away, we label it broken and go find a new one. Imagine treating your business the way some people treat dating or relationships: the business would be dead.

All this long talking is really just to ask one question: is there any chance to meet someone without pouring yourself out on social media, treating people like food deliveries, or chatting up strangers on the street? Suddenly, I find myself wishing I could rely on friends’ recommendations and old-school matchmaking.

If I knew what pivot modern dating needs, I’d dedicate a good decade to building a new Tinder. But I honestly don’t know how we get out of this deep hole: expecting one person to be your best friend, trusted confidant, passionate lover, soulmate, and the one who makes you the best version of yourself.

We’re impatient, oversensitive people seeking validation, demanding one relationship cover all emotional needs that used to be carried by, at least, a village. And on top of that, we want to recognize it on the first date, or during blind texting with a random person the algorithm served us. How sad it is..

The only advice I can give myself on this dating journey (and maybe you’ll need it too): start with yourself—and give people as many chances as you’d wish you were given. If it’s not a definite no, it’s a yes for now.

God has an incredible sense of humor. And we all love a good laugh.

Yours,
Miri