The Decline of Romantic Love

I often hear from my patients, both female and male, of the odd turn that dating has taken in their lives. An example from yesterday: Sandra (not her real name), a lovely woman in her 30s, has a wonderful day with a man she just met, feels attraction and interest that seems quite mutual. He calls her the next day to say how much he enjoyed it. She does not hear from him again. 

This scenario, in various forms, seems to be becoming commonplace. Over many discussions with patients the elements we’ve teased out include a certain fragility, fear of intimacy, and lack of persistence, especially in men, who can easily sleep with a different woman every day through dating apps without going through the considerable effort of forging a lasting relationship.

The idea of chivalry, which to me is structurally important (at least unconsciously) in the dynamics of many relationships, seems to be in serious decline. Psychological differences between men and women in their mode of feeling, the fact that in general, men are still the pursuers and initiators in relationship, the fact that the evolutionary cost of intimacy is very different for men and women, all have become increasingly ignored in the panic of cancel culture and verbal policing that prevails, at least in the U.S., at present.

What do I mean by chivalry? I think essential to it is patience, gentleness and respect. The capacity to see the other as a noble being, capable of suffering and joy like oneself, worthy of the best care. The ability to endure some frustration along the path, and to delay gratification. To have these qualities means one has felt pain and loss oneself and come through it with more compassion and selflessness than before. 

Of course desire is very important; without it there would be no joining together in any romantic alliance. Desire can burn clean and bright, but it can be tempered with patience and kindness. Without the flame of desire, the other qualities can manifest as friendly yet passionless asexuality, which is fine but cannot ignite the wonderful blaze of mutual attraction that lights up the sky like a meteor shower.

At its core I feel this loss of romanticism is based on fear. Fear of getting involved in something bigger than oneself, fear of losing control of one’s feelings or the situation, fear of being deeply in love and having it not reciprocated or losing it eventually, fear of failing to live up to the extraordinary possibilities in love. Yet fear is a terrible guide. 

So, what to do? 

Meditation is quite helpful, in learning to observe the storms of one’s fears, desires and hopes arise and pass by without identifying with them. To see one’s pride, that element that fears rejection or loss, as a false image of oneself, and that the true underlying nature of being cannot be left or rejected. 

Finally, to develop courage, in the primal meaning of the word. A quality of heart willing to endure fear and discomfort, even loss, for a worthy goal. It is the implicit understanding that what can be burned up when one is rejected or experiences loss is one’s pride, that false image that covers up our true, open-hearted nature.