DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I (F, 27) been seeing this guy (M, 26) for a few months now. He’s incredibly sweet, our chemistry is great when we’re together, except for one thing—he’s always on his phone. Whenever we’re together, he’s constantly texting or scrolling through social media. It’s becoming a real issue because, when he’s present, he’s amazing. But when he isn’t, it feels like he’s not even aware that I’m there. Either I feel like he forgets I’m there with him, or I’m made to feel like I’m somehow interrupting him from something more important.

It would be hard enough if this was about work and his job kept getting in the way of us spending time together. I wouldn’t like it, but at least I wouldn’t feel like I’m not entertaining enough for him. But it’s not. He’s replying to group chats on WhatsApp, reading his Discords or Twitter. There were even a few times when I realized he was watching TikToks instead of being with me.

At first, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but as time went on, it started to bother me more and more. It’s not just an occasional issue, it’s all the time. If we sit down to dinner, his phone comes out. If we’re on the couch and not actively making out or something, the phone comes out. I’ve tried bringing it up in a gentle way, but he always seems to brush it off, saying that it’s just habit or that he’s not really paying attention to his phone

It’s starting to feel like I’m competing for his attention with his phone, and I’m losing. I really like him, but I want to be with someone who is present and engaged when we’re together. What should I do?

Digital Widow

DEAR DIGITAL WIDOW: Ooof. This letter hits a little too close to home, DW. I am emphatically someone who spends entirely too much time online and who’s more or less glued to his phone. And as someone who’s had partners who’ve gently pointed out that I seem to be unable to stop scrolling Twitter or who whips his phone out the moment he gets bored… I’m not that far off from your beau.

But the fact that I can relate to your boyfriend might be a benefit in this case, because I may be able to provide context that could help.

Much like you and your boyfriend, I’ve had partners complain that I spend a lot of time on my phone – even when watching TV or otherwise engaged with things I presumably like. What was so compelling about scrolling through social media over shows I actually enjoyed watching or spending time with people I cared about.

Well as it turns out, the answer was, in part, that I have ADHD. I didn’t get my diagnosis until 2020, when the pandemic and the lockdown disrupted the majority of my coping mechanisms, and getting that diagnosis was very much the Rosetta Stone of many of my odd personality quirks.

One of the defining traits of ADHD is that it interferes with the brain’s ability to produce, absorb and metabolize dopamine; people with ADHD are basically running on a dopamine deficiency, and as a result, we’re always trying to reach a baseline by finding other sources. This leaves us easily distracted, in part, because we’re trying to find the next “hit”, and hyperfocus happens when our brains are determined to wring every last drop of that sweet, sweet happy juice out of whatever we’re currently doing.

Because novelty is one of the easiest and most effective ways of generating dopamine, we often end up getting addicted to our smartphones. Between the ever-burning trash fire of social media, quick and easily consumed bites of content via TikTok or Instagram, never-ending streams of emails and 24 hour news and content cycles, our smartphones are functionally perpetual dopamine factories, forever supplying us with the novelty that lets our brains get the fix they need.

And to make matters worse, people with ADHD also frequently have issues with impulsivity – that is, we rarely think about potential consequences of our actions and leap before we look. So we often miss that middle step between the desire to check out whatever Elon’s done to Twitter this time and pulling out our phones to check – that middle step that says “doing this will make my girlfriend feel like she’s being ignored and maybe I should not do this.”

Before I got my diagnosis, I was very much like your boyfriend. I didn’t think I was ignoring the people around me, I didn’t think I was paying that much attention to my phone or that I was capable of multitasking and that it wasn’t taking away from my ability to be present and in the moment with people I cared about. It was only after I started getting treatment that I was able to start getting things more under control.

(Please notice very carefully that I said more under control. This is still something I have to be mindful of, because it takes very little to fall back into it. The eternal scroll of social media is decidedly something that makes the hyperfocus go BRRRRRRRRRRRRR)

So, I think it may be worth your time to ask your boyfriend if he’s ever been tested for ADHD, or if he’s under treatment. If he hasn’t, I think it would be worth his while and yours for him to talk to a doctor. If he is dealing with an undiagnosed case, like I was, then the odds are good that this is affecting him in ways beyond his being rude and inconsiderate when he’s with you. It’s almost certainly interfering in his life in other areas, often in ways that likely frustrate and mystify him the way that his behavior is currently bothering you. Getting treatment will go a long, long way to improving the overall quality of his life and his relationship with you.

However, I want to be clear: the possibility that he has ADHD explains his behavior, it doesn’t excuse it. His behavior doesn’t become acceptable just because he’s neurodivergent, and it’s no less rude just because it’s a mental health issue. He may be swimming upstream – metaphorically speaking – but his behavior is still affecting you, and he’s being inconsiderate of you and your feelings. That’s relationship poison, no matter the underlying reason. So while his getting tested and treated – assuming that he has ADHD – will help, he’s still going to have to make a point of being more engaged with you and less on his phone.

Who knows, you and he may be able to find a way to compromise, where you can have some “separate but together” time, where you’re both enjoying each other’s company by being physically present, but not necessarily doing things together. A lot of people with ADHD find this form of “parallel play” helpful, both for productivity and a general sense of companionship and connection.

That being said: I feel obligated to say that even if he does get a diagnosis, treatment may still be difficult. Right now there’s a major Adderall shortage in the US, and a lot of people are struggling to get their prescriptions filled, either regularly or at all. So there may a long period of struggle and trying to find effective coping mechanisms in the interim, especially if other medications don’t work as effectively for him.

If he doesn’t have it – or he does, but doesn’t change his behavior – well, then you and he will need to sit and have that Awkward Conversation about how he’s behaving, how it’s making you feel, and why this is a problem, even if he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. His opinion that it’s not that much of an issue doesn’t negate how it’s affecting you. And if he’s not willing to change his behavior in the name of, y’know, not alienating his girlfriend… well then he’ll have made his choice between you and his phone.

And it’ll be your choice as to whether you’re willing to come in second to a piece of technology.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’ve (22m) been a reader for a couple of years and I’ve really enjoyed your work. Now I’m writing with a question of my own. I got out of my first relationship with a woman (24f) a couple of months ago. I thought things were going well, but they were very clear at first they wanted a casual relationship, and while I agreed at the time, I came to realize that I wanted something more than that and we had to break up. It was hard; while we had great immediate chemistry, we lived in different towns and so travel was always a bit of an issue. As well, there was a libido mismatch, where I had a higher libido than she did. This was made more difficult by us both living in our parents homes in our towns, and her not wanting to really hang out at our own houses. As a result, the only place we could actually have sex was my place in the town by my university, a few hours from where she lived.

This made intimacy fairly difficult, and she only came over here once out of the few months we dated. This was made even more difficult by her starting to work two jobs and take on more projects outside of that for her career a couple months after we started dating. It ended when after I brought up wanting to be more intimate, and her telling me that an arrangement where we shared our needs with each other would make the relationship too serious and not casual like she wanted, and she suspected I wanted more of a girlfriend than she was able to give due to her fun past relationship hang-ups. I realized she was right and I ended it. Throughout (although I never brought this up) I was kinda envious of the ex she mentioned she had a long term relationship with because they had that long term relationship instead of a short term one, if that makes any sense. That probably should’ve tipped me off that a casual relationship with this person wasn’t what I wanted. The whole time I was pretty anxious about losing them, which they apparently never realized, but it certainly wasn’t putting me in a healthy mental space.

It’s been two months now and I have a lot of complicated feelings about the issue. This has probably been the worst stretch of the breakup for me since the initial couple of weeks, and I’ve been having difficulty getting over it.

Theoretically, I know this relationship had to end and that I wouldn’t have been happy with a casual relationship anymore, especially the casual relationship we had. However, I still miss this person and I still really like them. As well, I was quite insecure about my virginity and being single prior to losing it in this relationship, and I’ve noticed that crop up in the wake of the breakup. I’ve felt like this would be my last ever relationship or I’d never have sex again (I know this isn’t healthy or true though). I think this cropped up in the relationship as well, where I was bothered that we weren’t as sexual as I would’ve liked. But I kinda feel a bit hopeless now. I’ve also been starting to have “what if” scenarios of if I could’ve saved the relationship.

As well, I’ve had thoughts of reaching out to her again even though I know it’s a bad idea. Part of me feels like I could handle the casual relationship just to be with her, which I know is a rationalization. There’s also, to be honest, the fact that I would be having sex in this relationship. This is a bad basis to start something up with obviously, but I still feel insecure about this.

I guess I just want advice on if there’s any way to help get over this person. I’ve had second thoughts on breaking up with this person even though I know I shouldn’t, and I was wondering if you had any tips on moving forward and coping with this, especially with how it’s started tying into my anxieties. I know this is a bit messy, but the insight is pretty valuable for me

Thanks,

Second And Third Thoughts

DEAR SECOND AND THIRD THOUGHTS: I want to preface this by saying that I’m sorry that things ended for you and your ex, and it’s understandable that you’re having some pretty complex feelings about the entire experience. And while I realize this isn’t necessarily going to help you feel better under the circumstances, SATT, but as far as first relationships go… I think this was a good experience for you.

Not, y’know, the heartache and disappointment, obviously, but what you can take from this.

It’s an unfortunate truth – and something we as a culture don’t talk about often – but our first serious relationships tend to be… well, for lack of a better term, “starter” relationships. It’s very rare that our first relationship is our last one. I can count on the fingers of one hand, with spares left over, the number of people I know who are still with their very first partner, ever.

To be sure, it’s not exactly romantic to go into a relationship with the understanding that it’s not going to last; it doesn’t feel “realistic” so much as “pessimistic”, or that you don’t have faith or trust in your partner or care for them as much as you “should”. Similarly, I’m not saying that everyone should start their first serious relationship with one foot out the door, nor fully investing in order to avoid the pain of heartbreak if and when it ends.

What I am saying is that the thing that will help most when it comes to getting over this relationship – besides the passage of time, that is – will be making a conscious shift in your perspective and how you look at this.

The primary reason why our first relationships often don’t work is that, more often than not, they’re functionally learning experiences for us. We go into our first relationships full of theories about what to expect or what we want, fantasies about how our ideal relationship will work and all sorts of expectations based around… well, very little. If you’re lucky and had parents or siblings with good and healthy relationships, you might have a more grounded baseline of expectations, but even then, we’re going in blind. You can’t know what you don’t know, after all, and so those first relationships tend to be acts of discovery.

Committing to a person for the first time, trying to balance your individual interests and desires against the needs of your partner and the needs of the relationship and trying to adjust your life so that you have space for another person are all tricky propositions for someone who’s never had to make the attempt before. It’s not surprising that those first tentative steps into this new world are often clumsy and ungainly, like a newborn deer trying to stand up and walk.

If we take a step back and do our best to look at the situation, then we can see that this wasn’t going to work out between the two of you in the long run. There were a lot of conflicting needs and incompatibilities right from the jump. She wanted something casual, without expectation of commitment or much investment and you wanted something more serious. You wanted a greater level of intimacy and physical affection than she did. To make matters more difficult, the logistics of your relationship meant that it was going to be difficult to meet those needs, even if you and your ex had similar sex drives.

But at the same time, it was very much a learning experience for you, and you came away from this knowing some important things about yourself. For example: you’ve learned that sex and a sexual connection is important to you in a relationship. I realize this seems like one of the most obvious things ever; after all, who doesn’t want sex with their partner, especially when you’re feeling strongly about losing your virginity. What you’ve learned here, though, is that this is something you should prioritize in your relationships going forward. Since sex is important to you, one of the things you will want to look for in your future relationships is someone with a roughly equal interest or desire for sex as you. A mismatch in interest or expectations would be a sign that the two of you just aren’t compatible.

Again, this seems like it would be obvious, but you’d be surprised how many people think that prioritizing a sexual connection means that you’re shallow or not as interested in your partner as a person.

However, this lesson also ties into another important consideration: there are some areas that you can’t or shouldn’t compromise on when you’re looking for a relationship.

Case in point: your ex wanted something more casual, and you agreed to it, under the (not unreasonable) assumption that you could be OK with this. I’m hoping – and you don’t say, one way or the other – that you honestly thought you were ok with it, rather than hoping that you could change her mind. I can tell you from personal experience: agreeing to one type of a relationship in hopes that you will be able to shift it to a different type is a bad idea. If you agree to a casual relationship but with the unspoken hope that you’ll be able to move it to being more committed, you’re setting yourself up for heartache. This makes it difficult to be fully engaged with your partner or to be in the moment with them. You end up feeling insecure in your connection with them because you don’t have the illusion of security that you think commitment would provide.

(I say “illusion” because there is no way to immunize your relationship against break-ups. As the man says: you can make no mistakes and still lose.)

As a result, you find yourself waiting for the Sword of Damocles to fall, where every micro expression, vocal intonation or even the amount of time it takes your partner to return a text becomes a sign that they’re about to leave you. Not because anything is actually wrong, but because you’re already anticipating the ending.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that the break up was your fault or that you did anything wrong. Much of what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault; you went into this in good faith and it simply didn’t work out. Some of it was because of circumstance, some of it was a lack of experience and some of it was because you thought one thing about yourself and discovered that it wasn’t true. That’s not an error on your part, that’s just the difference between theory and application. You had every reason to believe those things were true about yourself in part because you never had the opportunity to test it. You were making the best decisions you could with the information you had at the time. Now that you have new information, you’ll make different decisions in the future.

It’s also entirely normal that you feel conflicted about the break up. Break ups are rough, even when you know the relationship had to end. But there is another lesson to be learned here: the desire to get back together with your ex after a break up often has more to do with nostalgia and loneliness than a real desire to try again. Thankfully, you’re self-aware to recognize this. The last thing you want is to agree to something you already know doesn’t work, just to have “a relationship” or just to be with that specific person. All that would do is sign you up for the extended dance remix of your first break up, and the heartbreak after would be that much worse.

It’s also worth remembering that those feelings – like “at least I’d be having sex” – are also rationalizations. You were already dealing with logistical issues and mismatched libidos, making sex infrequent at best. Getting back together would mean that you’d still be frustrated and craving more than she could give, but now with the increased awareness that you chose this. That will only end with your feeling bad for wanting more than she could give and feeling worse for ending things over it, knowing that this was the price of entry for being with her again.

Now, I’ve written a lot about how to speed up the process of getting over somebody, but there are two things that I think will be useful to you. The first is to think seriously about what you’ve learned in your relationship with her and how you can apply those lessons to your next relationship. Part of what makes the sting of ending your first serious relationship is a feeling of helplessness, a lack of control. Those “what-if” scenarios you’re imagining are part of trying to regain a sense of agency; you’re trying to prove to yourself that there was a way you could have avoided all of this, instead of it just happening.

However, if you take those feelings and that knowledge and internalize it, you’ll be setting yourself up for success with your future relationships. You know more about what you need from the people you date, what doesn’t work for you and what to look for before you give someone your whole heart. When you and your next sweetie sit down to have the Defining The Relationship talk, you’ll know more about what you need to ask for and what that would look like for you.

The second thing to focus on is to give yourself time. You only broke up two months ago. The wounds are still fresh, and now that you’ve had a girlfriend, the lack feels that much more profound and empty. It’s hard, to be sure, but it will fade over time.

I fully realize that platitudes like “time heals all wounds” and “this too shall pass” feel unhelpful and insufficient, but there’s actual truth to them. In time – less time than you think – you’ll have more distance and perspective on things, and this will change how you look at this relationship. It’s just a matter of gritting your teeth and getting through the rough patches. But the rough patches will happen less and less, and soon enough, you’ll be surprised to realize that the hurt has faded.

For right now? Focus on taking care of yourself. Let yourself mourn the end of this relationship and practice some effective self-care. There will be love in the future. This was not the end for you. It’s not even the beginning of the end. This break up was merely the end of the beginning.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m a 31 year old cishet male, good physique, avid Latin dancer/weightlifter, good cook, fulfilling job, never had sex or been in a relationship. Last year I went on at least 25 dates, more dates than I ever had before by way of speed dating and Hinge. I go for and date women I consider conventionally attractive. However, by the end of my most recent run on Hinge, I realized how unhappy I was becoming. I became overly concerned with my appearance and diet (restriction and overexercising) and where/how I spent my spare time. I was obsessing with being as marketable as possible and when I was on dates, I felt the need to be perfect and impressive or else I’d be written off. The last women I met off Hinge turned out to be the best two dates I’d ever been on, but that ended due to children being a goal of hers but not of mine. I decided to delete the app after that and give myself a break.

Fast forward about a month later and I organically met a very nice woman at salsa night and we ended up having a long conversation and exchanged numbers. After several days of texting I invited her to a bachata class the following week and just asked “Do you want to go on a date?” when I saw her and she said yes! We ended up spending a whole day together throwing axes, exploring downtown, getting dinner and coffee, and shared a kiss at the end. Unfortunately she’s only going to be living in the US for the remainder of the year so she didn’t want to get invested in a short term relationship. We’ve maintained a platonic connection since then which has been a confidence boost for me.

Even though I only got a single date out of it, it felt SO much better to meet someone in person and to have things progress organically and not through my phone screen. I felt like I could just be me and make an impression via more than just a handful of pictures and some prompts. It wasn’t exhausting or anxiety provoking. It felt like I was enough. I wasn’t worrying about if I’m the best guy in her inbox.

Is it viable to approach dating without using apps? I don’t want to go back to itemizing myself and feeling like any match/date I got could be my last (no matter how many I continued to get). How should I go about it? Right now I’m mainly meeting new people via social dancing and lessons. I have been talking to another woman who I plan on asking out the next time I see her. I know I will have a lot less opportunities without an app, but is the lower quantity of chances worth the possible increase in quality? What would you do?

Thanks,

Tired of Technology

DEAR TIRED OF TECHNOLOGY: The obvious answer is that of course it’s possible to approach dating without using the apps. That’s what the human race has been doing since we crawled out of the primordial sea, after all.

But that’s just me being flippant, not actually answering the real question you’re asking, which is “am I allowed to not use the apps?” That, I think, is what you’re actually asking here. And while I realize this sounds like an equally absurd question – it’s not as though The High Council of Dating is going to sanction you for talking to strangers in person – it’s more about what’s going on in your head, rather than on the ground.

See, one of the more annoying quirks of the human psyche is that we get invested in… pretty much anything, really, and to let go of that feels like we’re committing a crime or a sin of some sort. After all, we’re told many times that giving up is weakness, that winners never quit and quitters never win. Our egos get involved and then we lose our heads because so much of our psyche is dedicated to protecting our ego from injury. And there’re few things that’re more injurious to our egos than to recognize that we’re in a situation where we’ll never recoup our initial investment. It’s really, really hard to admit that something is a bad scene and that we’re almost never going to get back what we put into it.

We will throw good money after bad, metaphorically and literally, because we feel that we have to. Because the alternative would be to accept that this money – metaphorical or otherwise – is gone and not coming back and that stings us worse and deeper than just failing would be.

I suspect that’s where your head’s at right now; to you, giving up on Hinge feels like admitting defeat. Which I suspect you recognize is absurd. I mean, objectively, you’re doing pretty damn good on there – 25 dates is a little less than 1 date every two weeks after all, which is a fine record to have under your belt. But that record isn’t worth it if the process of getting it means applying sandpaper to your nerves and dripping caustic acid on your soul. When the results you get come with injuries and pain, the answer isn’t to toughen the f--k up, it’s to stop doing the thing that hurts you, because the injuries are never going to be equal to the reward. The idea of suffering monomaniacally to accomplish something is the sort of romantic idea that only pays off for the people telling the story later; the person who broke themselves to pieces to get there usually doesn’t have much to say, afterwards.

It’s very much the old saw of the man who goes to see the doctor and says “Doctor, doctor, it hurts when I do this.”

“Well, stop doing that, then.”

Now, there’s a lot to be said for dating apps and the uses they have. But there’s also a lot to be said about the drawbacks to them, especially in a post-Tinder era when the mechanics and negative patterns of the apps make it more about collecting matches and less about actually going on dates. And while, yes, dating apps mean you get more opportunities, it also means that you’re choosing to expose yourself to rejection more often. You’re going to experience rejection more on dating apps than you would by meeting women in person, simply because you can’t put yourself in that position as often in person as you can on an app. You can approach and ask out dozens of women in the span of a day on Tinder or Hinge without even thinking about it. You would be hard-pressed to accomplish that in a week off of them; certainly not without making that your primary priority, over work, seeing friends and everything else that makes life worth living.

(Source: Me. I did that. It wasn’t worth it and it made me a worse person.)

And there’re distinct benefits to meeting in person, rather than on the app anyway. The most important, of course, is that we’re sacks of meat and chemicals, an organic robot being piloted by a sack of electrified tapioca; we’re creatures of flesh and bone and we’re built to respond like flesh does. There are so many factors tell if we have chemistry with another person – including literal chemistry – that we simply cannot experience over silicon and copper and rare-earth metals. Meeting someone on an app often goes nowhere because what seems perfect on paper can do absolutely nothing for us in person; we never would’ve tried to date them if we’d met them in person, simply because those little organic signals would’ve said “nah.”

Meeting someone organically, in person, however, means you not only get to know them and pick up on those signals, but it gives you time to build a connection. It’s a lot easier for two people to decide if they’re interested in each other if they have time and space to consider the question, instead of trying to get an answer within 20 minutes to an hour. A couple weeks of talking, getting to know each other and appreciating one another’s uniqueness can produce better results.

So, of course you can give up the apps. It certainly sounds like you should, if only for your own health.

But that doesn’t mean you need to give them up forever, if you don’t want to. I know that I just spent several hundred words s--tting on Hinge and Tinder and everything, but dating apps do have their place. It just shouldn’t be the place of honor, the primary method by which you socialize. Dating apps, in my opinion, should be a supplement to meeting people in person, not a replacement for them. They add convenience, especially if you’re in an area where it’s hard to find opportunities to meet people, and they allow you to widen your net if the demographics in your area aren’t favorable to you. But when they become the end-all/be-all of how you meet people? Well, that’s when you start getting into the space where you start hurting yourself in the name of not taking the lesser hurt of saying “this isn’t working for me”.

So when the pain is less and you feel better about yourself, you can come back to them if you really want to. It’s not as though Hinge is Brigadoon, where once you leave, you can never return. You can always reactivate your old account or, better still, delete it when you leave and start over fresh if you decide to go back.

But if you put more time into living a life you love and letting that bring people into it in a more natural and organic fashion? You may not want to.

Or… you may not need to.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com