Calibrating casual isn’t child’s play—literally. Gen Z may have invented the term ‘situationship’, but that doesn’t make them the caliphate of casual. Remember what Sarojini Naidu said? It takes a lot of money to make Gandhi look poor. Well, here’s a 21st-century version of that. It takes a lot of work for Gen Z to appear casual.
Adults who never get it right are advised to chant ‘detach, detach, detach’ twice a day. Once while journaling in the morning and once while crying in the pillow at night. They can’t do much anyway. The rules of casual dating in this charged climate couldn’t be less ambiguous. Not to forget the colourful pop-cultural image of such affairs—every no-strings-attached couple ends up getting married in the movies.
I have learned one thing after collecting human Pokemons from online dating apps—I can’t do casual. Even a well-behaved tree can have me in the chokehold of yearning. And before you brand me a fool, let me break it to you: I already know. So does half of Gen Z, who have mugged up the birth chart of their Hinge matches who clearly wanted “nothing serious”. Modern witches are out here in Reels with crystals, voodoo dolls, and AI-generated tarot cards, but even they can’t turn a casual fling into a ritualistic merging of souls.
Messy dos and don’ts
When Jerry Seinfeld and Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) in the 1980s sitcom Seinfeld struck up a “deal” for a non-serious linking, they had three straight rules—no calls the next day, no kissing goodnight and sleeping over is optional. Now, in 2024, I see a million loopholes. Can we like each other’s Instagram stories? Is trauma dumping on a hectic workday allowed? And most importantly, how weird is it if we name our favourite pillows after each other? Even when the vibe between two people is super chill, with zero promises of forever, one of them almost always fumbles, throwing in some unprovoked, awkward display of intimacy. Some (not me) send videos of deliriously happy White couples to a list of potential non-casuals, asking, “Us when?” If this mindless simping is a crime, lockups are too few to fit all the criminals.
The list of dos and don’ts from expert casual daters among my peers seems all over the place. Talk things out, but don’t talk too much. You can follow each other on social media but don’t engage with each other’s posts, which essentially means watch and gawk all you want but don’t double tap. Stay in touch over DMs, emojis, gifs, memes, Snaps and Facetime, but don’t actually check in on each other. Don’t restrict yourself but don’t overshare. Don’t talk about them to your friends, and if you do, don’t use their real name. Forehead kisses are fine if they don’t mean anything (the same rule applies to feet kisses). Then, there is the thing about timelines. A casual fling shouldn’t last long but don’t act weird by setting a time frame. Isn’t it maddening?
Also read: Gen Z & millennials are dating each other. It’s a generation mash-up with spicy character arcs
‘Diagnosed too anxious to be casual’
The 20-something softies aren’t built for this torture. The very chalant lover girls (their pre-therapy versions, at least) are especially bad at keeping things casual. They sync their Spotify playlists with two-month-old hookups and send corny late-night texts with a generous sprinkle of ‘LOLs’ in each sentence. When the confused participant on the other side asks, “I hope you’re not getting attached?” the standard dignified answer is “Of course not. Haha”.
A 29-year-old scholarly genius spent not one, not two but three years hahaing like that. Her college-time “casual” live-in partner was cool about breaching boundaries but very God-fearing about seriously dating her. “I will burn in hell,” he said one day before spending the night outside the bedroom to repent for his sin of cuddling with someone outside of his religion. This scary vision of the afterlife didn’t stop him from simultaneously hooking up with other people on the campus. That’s basically halal in the eyes of the Judges of the Dead. Eventually, he invited the scholar to his wedding and she finally booked herself an expensive therapy session. Now, her dating app bio proudly says, “Diagnosed too anxious to be casual”.
She and other emotionally regulated comrades preach self-love to me as the sure-shot exit from casual catastrophes. That’s confusing too because why is expecting my situationship to declare his devotion to me with a blazing electric guitar anything but an act of self-love? I am just being a little considerate by letting him take his time to get there. Maybe he will have a change of heart tomorrow, or never—after all, the rule is to not set a timeline.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)