Men, Commitment & The New Pair of Shoes Theory

I met a guy recently – let’s call him Andrew. American. Handsome. In that jock-tastic, Abercrombie meets Fitch kind of a way.

Andrew recently quit his job and broke up with his girlfriend, maybe because he just turned 30 (please, dear God, don’t say I am a grown up yet?), or maybe because the job wasn’t right, and neither was the girl. Or maybe, just maybe, Andrew is like a lot of guys I hear about from my single friends. The cute guy who can’t commit. Who has no intention of settling down. He’s far too busy being preppy by day and getting lucky by night. Guys like Andy are not short of female attention, but they do suffer from a clear case of over-the-shoulder-itis. You know the type. Even though he might be chatting to the pretty brunette, one eye is always looking over her shoulder, checking out the perky redhead in the corner. Or the cute blonde at 12 o’clock.

Always keeping an eye out, just in case something better and brighter lies up ahead (or over her shoulder).

I have not been single for a long time, but I can tell you from where I am standing (somewhere wedged between smugly married and a wee bit jealous), dating in 2018 looks EXHAUSTING. Ever since people started swiping right, and online shopping for a partner became less loser and more mainstream, dating has gone seriously ADHD on us. Dating, back in my day, was more met-in-a-bar, friend-of-a-friend, luck-of-the-draw kind of a deal. But in 2018, it’s an all you can eat brunch – a sexual smorgasbord of options no less. How on earth is a hot-blooded guy meant to cosy up with just one woman, when there are literally hundreds of girl’s smiling, or skiing, or tilting their head fetchingly to one side, silently urging ‘Pick Me!’

And then it hit me. Like when you suddenly realise what that strange smell is, and finally you’re like, duh – it’s Patchouli.

It’s not just men. Women do the exact same thing. But with Shoes. Or Clothes. Or Accessories. Or Interiors. Or whatever it is that holds that same EXPECTATION and PROMISE for them. The new dress, the perfect pair of earrings, the gentle curve of that un-scuffed heel. Be still my heart. We WANT it. In all it’s glorious new-ness, because maybe it is this dress, this pair of gold-hooped earrings or this classic black pump that will complete us.

Until we spy the next one.

This is not a new concept. I have talked about hedonic adaptation before – but only when it came to stuff. I didn’t think about it in terms of dating, until now, (until Andy.) We will have to blame biology for part of it – our brain is super clever at adapting to stuff, (be it perky redheads or brand, new shoes), so what once held immense appeal, can lose its lustre pretty quickly. The other portion of blame lies with technology, which has not only shortened our attention spans, but more crucially given us too much choice. When it comes to dating this is not good news. At all.

Here’s the thing. Our brains evolved with a limited working memory, meaning we can only consider a small set of information when making a decision. Ironically, the more choice we have, the harder we find it to choose – anyone who has spent a solid 2 hrs scrolling through Netflix, deciding what to watch, can attest to this. Endless options cause our brain to stress, and leave us, both less likely to make a decision at all, or to doubt our eventual decision was in fact the right one.

Which brings us back to Andy. And to the New Pair of Shoes Theory.

There are a lot of women out there in the world. And there are a huge number of shoes we have yet to slip our feet into.

I am not saying that Andy should settle down with the first pair of shoes he tries on (What?!)  –  but, maybe he should walk around in that one pair for a little bit longer. There is a big difference between sex and intimacy, and eventually, most people (even Andy?), find that one without the other is not exactly the most satisfying fit.

This Get Happier post is brought to you by someone who clearly does not underestimate the comfort of an old pair of slippers.