2024 Dating Audit

Crunching the numbers on one full calendar year of dating + an update on Archery Man

Jan 13, 2025

Illustration by the freshly 30, Nicholas Konrad! HBD!

I. My Affliction

I am writing this from an urgent care clinic where I await my test results for strep throat and flu.

On Friday evening, just as I was getting ready to venture out for the night - fully dressed and on time for my dinner (!) - my throat started to hurt. Within an hour, my plans were cancelled, and I was prone on my couch, shaking under a wool blanket, trying not to think about the aches and pains throughout my body as I watched the final 45 minutes of Blade Runner 2049. (Great film for when you’re sick btw - requires significant pausing and googling, very distracting).

The timing of this illness could not be more poetic. The night before, on Thursday, I went over to Archery Man’s apartment to end things for the second time. (Yes, second. I told you I was bad at break ups!)

For those who have forgotten or weren’t yet subscribed, Archery Man is a guy I wrote about twice: once because of an embarrassing date with bows and arrows that helped me realize how much I liked him, and a second time, because we ran into another woman he was dating. Twice. In one day.

I spent the holidays coming to terms with what I suppose I knew all along: despite how much I enjoyed spending time with him, it wasn’t the right fit. At least so far this second time around has been a teeny bit less painful. And not just emotionally. When I ended things the first time, I got Covid.

II. My 2024 Numbers

Partially because of this break up, partially because of the new year, I’ve spent a good chunk of time pondering my other affliction at the moment: being single.

I entered 2024 single - on a very intentional break from dating. But starting in late winter/ early spring, I got back into things and have more or less been dating steadily since.

In a brazen attempt at transparency, that I suspect I will come to regret, let’s take a look at my numbers for the year.

Total number of dates in 2024: ~50
Total number of individuals I went out with: 14
Number of individuals I only went on ONE date with: 5.
Number of individuals I only went on TWO dates with: 3.
Number of individuals I only went on THREE dates with: 4.
Number of individuals I went on FOUR or more dates with: 2. (Not coincidentally, the two main people I wrote about this year: Archery Man and Marathon Man).
Number of people who ended things with me: 1. (Marathon Man)
Number of people I ended things with: 8.
Number of people for whom the ending was mutual or uncertain: 5. (I count here three people who no texts were exchanged with after our first date. One guy who suggested he was getting friend vibes, in response to a text from me expressing ambivalence about going on another date. And one guy who replied “Yeah I think I feel the same way” after I told him I had unfortunately lost interest. We had a date scheduled for that night.)
Number of people I met on dating apps: 10.
Number of people I met another way: 4. (One at a party, one on the subway, one through this newsletter - he sent me a really cute email, one through a set up by mutual friends.)
Number of people I dated where if I’m being really honest with myself I pretty much the entire time felt like - ehh I don’t think I’m into this but maybe I should give them a(nother) shot: 7.
Number of people I got genuinely excited about (even if for just 24 hours): 3.

III. So, Why Am I Still Single?

The numbers beg the question. And yet it’s a question I try to avoid.

It’s not that I fear the answer. It’s that I think the question only makes sense when I’m in an anxious headspace.

Most of the time it doesn’t occur to me. Or if it does, it seems unimportant or obvious: Well, I just stopped seeing X person. Or I’m taking a break from dating because I’m a bit burnt out. Or I’m searching for someone I like more than my ex boyfriend and he was pretty great so that’s hard.

Many of the most common reasons people are single don’t apply to me: I am actively trying, I don’t have any lingering emotions I’m working through from a previous relationship, I have many social opportunities to meet people, I have pretty good success on dating apps (where it’s not lost on me that I am at an advantage for being white, thin, and above average at writing for an audience).

The only alarming thing I see reflected in my cherry picked data is that I’m going out with a lot of people I know deep down I’m not that into. There are a lot of different reasons for this - including that I find meeting new people incredibly energizing and that I have a hard time rejecting men who use grand gestures to express their interest in me. But the main thing that underlies all of it is self doubt.

I feel the uncertainty. I know the hesitation. I recognize the giant gulf between being able to tolerate spending time with someone and feeling genuinely excited about seeing them again. And yet again and again I fight it. I tell myself with more time, my feelings may change. I question whether I am being too rigid about what I want from a partner or too unrealistic about the level of compatibility I can find. In so many ways, I tell myself that I don’t know what I clearly do know.

My goal for this year is to get better at threading that delicate line between giving someone a chance and trusting the inner voice I’ve worked so hard to hear.

When I told the AI chatbot Claude that it’s hard to keep believing I just haven’t met the right person yet given how many different people I’ve gone out with (by my count, 60 in the last 2.5 years, the vast majority of whom I’ve rejected), Claude responded with the following: “What if we saw it as 60 instances of you honoring your authentic feelings and not settling for connections that didn't feel right? That takes considerable self-awareness and courage.”

Maybe it is that simple. Maybe there is no big mystery — nothing to do or change but be patient and trusting. My test results came back: No strep throat, no flu, no Covid. “Sometimes,” the urgent care doctor reminded me, “it’s just a cold.”