This post is going to be a little different. It’s not about thrifting, home decor, or anything I usually talk about here. It’s actually a little vulnerable for me to share—but I think it matters. I think it’s important for single people to see they’re not alone, for married people to take notice, and for all of us to consider how we show up for each other in this moment. There’s a quiet crisis happening beneath the surface of dating, and it’s worth talking about.

I just finished an episode of Diary of a CEO podcast that made me sit in my car for 10 extra minutes. You know the kind—where the topic hits a little too close to home and suddenly you’re spiraling (in a productive way). This one was about dating—how it’s changing, why it’s harder, and what’s actually going on underneath the surface.

If you’ve ever felt like modern dating is a mess, you’re not imagining it.

And before you roll your eyes—this isn’t a man-bashing post or a “where are all the good guys?” rant. This is more of a let’s zoom out for a second and make sense of this conversation. Because there’s something happening here. And a lot of us feel it.

First: The stats aren’t lying.

We’re getting married later. We’re having fewer kids. And more people—especially women—are navigating long seasons of singleness they didn’t expect. In fact, Birmingham (my city) has the highest percentage of single women in the U.S. (don’t shoot the messenger, it’s data).

And honestly? It doesn’t feel great.

Especially if, like me, you grew up in the South where most people get married before they turn 25. At 30, I thought I’d be in a different place—but here I am, watching friends move away, dating apps get weirder, and dinner parties get smaller.

So… what’s happening?

Let’s start with dating apps.

On paper, they should make things easier. More options. More access. But what they’ve actually created is this weird paradox of choice—where there’s always someone else to swipe on, and very little incentive to go deep with anyone. It’s become gamified. And when you treat people like options, everyone ends up feeling disposable.

Apps aren’t evil—but they’ve changed the way we relate to each other. And not necessarily in a good way.

Women's needs have changed. (This is a good thing.)

We’re not looking for someone to rescue us. We’re looking for someone to walk with us. Most women I know want emotional intelligence, mutual ambition, shared values—not just stability. And it’s not because we’re too picky. It’s because we’ve done a lot of work to become who we are, and we want someone who’s done the same.

Twenty years ago, marriage was often the first chapter. Now, for many women, it’s more like chapter five. And that’s not a bad thing—but it does change the timeline.

Meanwhile… a lot of men are struggling.

This isn’t about blame—it’s about noticing.

Reports like The Lost Boys (from the Centre for Social Justice in the UK) talk about a decline in educational achievement, emotional development, and even hope among young men. Combine that with fewer strong male role models and a culture that doesn’t always make space for vulnerability, and you’ve got a real issue.

When we say “men are falling behind,” we’re not saying they’re the enemy. We’re saying they need support, too.

And here’s the kicker: Everyone’s lonely.

We’re all more “connected” than ever—and somehow lonelier than we’ve ever been. There’s a real loneliness epidemic happening underneath the filtered photos and group chats. And for a lot of people, that loneliness shows up most in dating.

You can want a partner, and still struggle to find someone who feels like a real match. You can be successful, happy, full of love to give—and still find the dating pool exhausting.

If you’re there, you’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re just living in a really weird moment in history.

So where does that leave people like me?

I’ll be honest: I’m a romantic. Always have been.

I’ve never wanted to meet someone through a screen. I want to bump into them at a bookstore. I want to meet them at church, or at a dinner party where we end up sitting next to each other and accidentally sharing a dessert. I want it to feel like a story I’ll tell one day, not a filtered highlight reel or a scheduling puzzle.

Lately, I’ve been trying to meet people the old-fashioned way. I go on long walks. I visit the community garden. I linger a little longer at the park or talk to someone at the coffee shop. Not because I expect love to jump out from behind a tree—but because I still believe that human connection happens best when we’re actually living life, not just scrolling through it.

A final thought.

We were made for connection. I really believe that.

But maybe in all our advancements, we’ve overcomplicated the most human thing there is: being with each other.

Maybe the way forward isn’t more profiles or filters or speed. Maybe it’s slowness. Curiosity. Showing up. Being the kind of person we hope to meet.

Even if it takes longer. Even if it hurts sometimes.

Because I still believe in love. But more than that—I believe in people. And I think if we can remember how to truly see each other again, we’ll find our way back to something real.

The Dating Dilemma: What Is Going On?