We live in a reality where we lean towards screens more than people in the flesh, where faces and voices arrive pixelated before they become real. In this space, we meet strangers, possible lovers, virtually. And there’s a new habit—one that feels like a reflex now. We overshare. It happens naturally, when isolation is the default, and connection feels rare. It’s easy to spill too much too soon.
But there was always a rhythm to how we reveal ourselves, wasn’t there? A pacing that made discovery what it was meant to be: slow, deliberate, a dance. These days, we’ve reduced the art of courtship to rapid-fire texts, revealing the layers to our lives, past and future in a couple of keystrokes. What used to take months is condensed into minutes. No one suggests we return to the days of handwritten letters, but maybe there’s something to be said for brakes, for a pause, for mystery.
The thrill of uncovering someone—bit by bit, date by date—carries a weight that instant gratification can’t match. The excitement that builds during the first few interactions of a healthy relationship far outweighs the instant gratification of spilling our guts out on the first. It’s the slow build, the space left for discovery, to ask questions that sustains something deeper.
We rush. We rush through conversations, through stories, through the very act of meeting someone. But restraint, in its way, is an art. It’s a virtue– it lets us share our excitement, our authentic selves, without overwhelming the other person. The balance is delicate: how to be yourself, fully, without giving away too much too soon.
It’s always been a balancing act, and it always will be. Share what excites you and expresses who you are, but save deeper, more personal details for when a stronger connection has developed, especially finances, previous heartbreaks and family dynamics. The art of curiosity, chemistry, seduction. If we know it all up front, what’s left? Where’s the fun?
It is a learning curve, especially if it is all new to you. Navigating these uncharted waters of connection requires something different from us—a willingness to adapt, to explore, to discover what this new reality might hold.
The truth is, none of us know how this will change the way we build relationships. But we know it will. And it might be exciting, transformative even. In the end, we’re all discovering together, step by step, in a world where patience and curiosity still matter.