The season of cuffingmight end on Valentine’s Day, but real relationships don’t follow a predetermined hourglass. Love isn’t something you rent from October through February and return once spring rolls around, even though modern dating culture increasingly makes it seem that way.
The rise of hookup culture and the promotion of trends like cuffing season have made people comfortable with the idea that real commitment just isn't out there anymore. We’re told that if we want something serious, we should lower our standards, settle quickly, or accept whatever shows up first — because otherwise, we risk ending up alone. That narrative has become so widespread that many young people don’t even question it.
But the broad narrative people want you to believe, that commitment has disappeared from this world entirely, is not actually the case.
Dating culture is a mess, no doubt. But that doesn’t mean meaningful relationships are no more. It means they take time, discernment, and a willingness to opt out of the most convenient options. And in a society built around immediacy, that can feel almost radical.
Commitment hasn’t “gone postal.” It’s just become harder to find in a culture that relies on hookup norms, dating apps designed for volume over depth, and a social climate normalizing monetized intimacy. When everything is available instantly, depth starts to look like delay and delay gets mistaken for avoidance.
Immediate gratification has overtaken our generation. Social media distorts reality by making relationships seem to materialize out of thin air and appear perfectly curated, effortless, and aesthetically flawless.
What we don’t see is the slow, often uncomfortable work that real relationships require: communication, patience, conflict, and growth. Instead, we absorb the idea that if something isn’t easy from the start, it isn’t meant to last.
That distortion feeds another lie, that choosing commitment in your twenties means “giving up” your youth. We’re told to look at divorce rates, shrug, and conclude that trying doesn’t matter anyway. Why invest deeply in something that might fail?
But this cultural disdain for relationships and obsession with non-committal alternatives isn’t actually working.
If anything, the constant churn of casual dating has left many young people more exhausted, more cynical, and less trusting—not freer. Avoidance hasn’t protected us from heartbreak; it’s just delayed it.
What’s interesting is that beneath all the noise, something quieter is happening. As cultural “revival” movements grow, whether through faith, values-based communities, or a renewed emphasis on discernment, so does the intentionality with which people date. Slowing down, being selective, and refusing to settle are often framed as a fear of commitment. In reality, they’re signs of discernment.
Wanting more doesn’t mean wanting less freedom. It means wanting something real.
And the data backs that up. Despite the constant claims that marriage is outdated or undesirable, only about eight percent of Gen Z respondents believe marriage is obsolete. In comparison, roughly 66 percent say they’re excited to get married someday.
That alone dismantles the idea that young people have given up on commitment. The desire is there. What’s broken is the pathway we’re told to take to get there.
We’ve confused availability with intimacy, access with connection, and speed with sincerity. Dating apps and cultural trends reward immediacy — not patience. Visibility — not depth. And when those systems fail to deliver lasting fulfillment, we’re told the problem is commitment itself, rather than the environment we’ve built around dating.
Commitment isn’t rare because people don’t want it. It’s rare because it doesn’t thrive in seasonal, disposable, hyper-visual cultures. It grows slowly, quietly, and often outside the places we’re told to look.
Maybe the problem isn’t that people are avoiding love. Maybe they’re just done pretending that holiday flings and temporary substitutes are enough.
