Why Does Dating Feel So Gendered Lately?

One needs to learn how to endure in the colosseum of modern dating. Characterised by scrolling, swipes, and lower-cased text messages, it is not merely a personal endeavour to find love but something that shares a complex relationship with social structures. Dating apps and social media have commodified not just bodies but also attention. Some must earn in this economy of attention or risk invisibility, while others struggle to manage it.

The Gendered Economy of Attention

As women’s bodies continue to be prized as something to be conquered, their status as potential partners rises as well. As a result, women command legions of admirers like emperors, whereas men, sidelined, hurl hopeful coins at the gate.

While one gender competes for visibility, the other tries to filter its excess. The algorithmic trends of dating apps ensure that a small number of users get the most likes and matches.

Even then, these likes and matches don’t always turn into communication, nor does constant communication guarantee a date. Instead, it swiftly builds a false sense of emotional intimacy, which comes crashing down when either party “ghosts” the other.

This ghosting, too, is not always out of cruelty, but rather a result of exhaustion and safety concerns. Disappearing without the boop of a text, and continuously spamming someone, performing for them and pretending to be someone you’re not, are all part of a cut-throat and transactional dating market.

The system of likes and dislikes creates quantifiable attraction and validation. The dopamine hit at every new like and the feeling of being disposed when faced with rejection, along with the sheer number of choices, and the cyclical nature of texting in the initial stages, then moving to something more, causes cynicism, burnout and commitment paralysis.

The emphasis on the appearance of a person and being ‘nonchalant’ rewards emotional detachment and surface-level aesthetics.

Power, Risk, and Reward

What is framed as a matter of individual success or failure masks a quiet asymmetry. Dating is not just an emotional exchange; it is a negotiation, and not all parties enter it with equal leverage or stakes.

It is not merely about being charming enough, but rather defined by who can afford to walk away. The person with more alternatives, both real and perceived, holds greater leverage.

This is why early-stage dating often feels lopsided: attention is abundant for some and scarce for others, shaping behaviour long before emotions fully enter the picture.

For many men, especially in app-based dating, leverage is limited at the point of entry. Initiation, performance, and persistence are required just to be seen.

Rejection is frequent and often silent. Over time, this scarcity encourages over-investment, strategic self-presentation, or emotional withdrawal or resentment as a defence mechanism. 

Daniel, a college student, tells SheThePeople about how engaging in serious relationships is a full-time responsibility, especially if the relationship crosses caste or racial lines. Juggling dates, a job, the expectations of one’s partner and their loved ones, turns out to be a high-risk, medium-reward situation.

For women, leverage appears higher early on, but it comes with its own distortions. An abundance of options does not necessarily translate to control or satisfaction. The ability to walk away exists, but so do the risks of physical harm, coercion, stalking, social judgment, and pregnancy. 

Power, in this sense, is conditional and unstable. Importantly, leverage is not static. It can shift as emotional investment deepens. The partner who becomes more attached often loses negotiating power, regardless of gender.

Queer dating scene

Amongst all this, the queer dating experience can be isolating in a whole other way. It’s all the easier to queerbait or catfish as queer while exploiting someone emotionally or financially, and occupying marginalised spaces.

A redditor on the subreddit “r/LesbianActually” comments, “I'm bisexual and single. I have a slight preference for women, but not by much. A couple of days ago, I joined [a dating app], set it to both men and women, and am really frustrated by the results. In two days, I got liked by 4 women, one was an obvious catfish, one was a couple looking for a threesome, and two were women I wasn't really attracted to. But I was 'liked' by *79* men. Why is it sooo hard to find women to date?” 

What emerges is a culture of mutual suspicion. The repeated disappointment and or rejection boost apathy and distrust while amplifying the loneliness felt on all sides.

Despite promising connections, this market-driven matchmaking overwhelms and punishes while gatekeeping people behind paid subscriptions and premium versions of these apps.

In a culture where desire is socially constructed, where intimacy turns into leverage, connection into commodity, the finest act is not winning the game, but refusing to play it.

Views expressed by the author are their own.