A few days ago, I met a girl online. The conversation went smoothly, we joked, shared some interests, and seemed to click. After exchanging messages for a while, we decided it was time to meet in person. The weather was perfect that day—warm sunshine, a gentle breeze—and we agreed to take a walk in the local park. Everything seemed casual and relaxed, exactly the kind of first meeting you hope for.
We saw each other, exchanged greetings, and started walking along the park paths. The conversation flowed easily at first. We talked about our hobbies, favorite books, movies, and shared funny anecdotes from our past. At times, I felt like we really understood each other. The atmosphere was light, and laughter was frequent. We stopped by a small café in the park, grabbed ice cream, and continued walking. For a while, it all felt natural, enjoyable, and promising.
When the walk ended, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. I felt cautiously optimistic, thinking that perhaps this could be the start of something more. I was reflecting on the meeting, replaying the conversation in my mind, trying to see what went well and what I could do better. And then my phone buzzed. A message from her appeared, and I thought it would be a simple “It was nice meeting you” or “Let’s do this again sometime.”
I could not have been more wrong.
The message was long, direct, and, honestly, shocking. It read something like this:
“If you want me to be with you, here’s what you need to change: your way of speaking, go to the dentist (I was there last week, everything is fine with me), work out and get in shape, buy a car (I already have one), change your clothing style (your ‘cheap’ style doesn’t appeal to me, even though it’s not cheap at all), and bring me more bouquets of flowers (11 roses are not enough for me).”
And it didn’t stop there. The message continued in this demanding tone, outlining what she expected of me if I wanted any chance of being with her. Then, almost as a consolation, she added that she would be willing to “give me a chance” if I worked on all these points.
I was stunned. Reading her message, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh, be offended, or feel a little sad for the state of dating today. My first reaction was to ask a simple question:
“Wait, if I didn’t meet your standards, why bother asking me to change?”
Her response was as practical as it was blunt:
“I’m 30 years old. I don’t have time to choose. I want a family and children.”
That’s when I realized how differently we approach relationships. In her view, practicality and goals outweigh personal chemistry. In my view, if there’s no mutual attraction or emotional connection, then no amount of effort or modification will make it work.
It’s an interesting reflection on modern dating, especially in an era where expectations, timelines, and social pressures can sometimes override basic compatibility. In her mind, life was a checklist: find a partner, achieve stability, and move toward family. Emotional nuance or natural attraction seemed secondary. For me, connection and mutual interest are fundamental. Without them, I see no point in investing time, energy, or emotions.
Thinking back, our meeting in the park had been pleasant, even enjoyable. But it wasn’t love at first sight. There was no spark, no undeniable connection. And that’s okay. Not every first meeting has to lead to fireworks. Relationships take time, shared experiences, and a certain chemistry that can’t be forced.
Yet her approach seemed to suggest that chemistry could be manufactured, that a checklist of superficial changes could turn mutual indifference into attraction. I found that perspective alarming. Can you truly create attraction by changing external factors alone? Can a change in hairstyle, wardrobe, or even dental hygiene turn someone into a compatible partner if the core connection isn’t there? I’m inclined to say no. Attraction and compatibility are far more complex than a set of tasks.
Her message also highlights a broader issue in dating culture today: the pressure to meet predefined standards. Social media, societal norms, and the constant comparison with others can create unrealistic expectations. In her case, she already had a car, a stable lifestyle, and clear goals. She wanted a partner who would fit neatly into that lifestyle without questioning it. That kind of transactional approach to dating, while practical, risks overlooking the emotional, psychological, and human dimensions that make relationships meaningful.
Moreover, her assertion that age dictates urgency introduces another layer of tension. Yes, biological and social timelines are real, and people have different priorities at different stages of life. But using age as a reason to bypass the natural process of connection can be problematic. Relationships forced by necessity rather than choice rarely sustain themselves in the long term. Emotional compatibility can’t be rushed—it’s discovered gradually, often through shared vulnerabilities, experiences, and time spent together.
After reading her message, I spent hours reflecting on my own perspective. I realized that in dating, I value authenticity and emotional honesty above all. I am willing to compromise and grow with a partner, but I will not attempt to mold myself into someone else simply to satisfy a checklist. Love, in my view, requires mutual desire, respect, and a sense of natural alignment. Without these elements, even the most thoughtful gestures or impressive displays of effort will fall flat.
Her approach also made me think about communication in dating. In her message, there was a clear lack of empathy and understanding. Instead of discussing feelings, preferences, or exploring whether there could be mutual compatibility, she presented demands and expectations. Communication should be a two-way street, where both parties share their needs, concerns, and goals while remaining open to the other person’s perspective. When one party focuses solely on their agenda, the relationship risks becoming one-sided.
Ultimately, I decided to step back. I thanked her politely for the meeting but chose not to pursue further contact. There was no judgment—just a recognition that our perspectives on relationships were fundamentally incompatible. For me, dating is about exploration, connection, and shared discovery. For her, it appeared to be about efficiency and goal completion. Neither is “wrong,” but neither aligned with the other.
This experience left me with several takeaways. First, compatibility cannot be manufactured; it must be felt. Second, clear communication is vital, but so is empathy and mutual understanding. And finally, dating is not just about finding someone who meets criteria—it’s about finding someone with whom the experience of being together feels natural, enjoyable, and genuine.
Meeting her was not a failure. It was an insight—a reminder of the diversity of human perspectives on relationships and the importance of staying true to one’s values. Not every connection will lead to a lasting relationship, but every experience can teach us more about ourselves and what we want from a partner.
In conclusion, dating in the modern world can be complicated. People bring their expectations, goals, and timelines into the process, sometimes overlooking the subtle but essential elements of emotional connection. While it’s understandable that someone might want to prioritize practicality, it’s equally important to recognize that love cannot be reduced to a set of tasks. Attraction, chemistry, and emotional resonance remain the foundation of any meaningful partnership.
As for me, I remain open to meeting people, forming connections, and enjoying the journey of dating. I will not attempt to become someone I’m not simply to satisfy another’s checklist, nor will I ignore my instincts when a connection feels forced or superficial. Life is too short to settle for anything less than authentic connection, and no amount of external change can replace the spark that comes from mutual understanding and genuine interest.
So, while my encounter with her was unusual, even slightly shocking, it reinforced my values and clarified my approach to dating. Compatibility is not a convenience or a checklist—it is a living, evolving experience that demands patience, honesty, and a willingness to embrace imperfection. And that, ultimately, is worth more than any list of demands.
