IS LOVE SCARY ?

Sri City: Speed, swipes, and short-term “talking stages” characterize the way Gen Z connects, fast, fleeting, and always replaceable. But there is fear behind all this, the fear of running out of time, fear of being rejected, and, most importantly, fear of being hurt. In an effort to protect ourselves from heartbreak, we have turned love into a temporary, safe, and easily disposable thing. Still, ironically, a quiet craving exists just under this defense mechanism , a desire for the kind of depth, comfort, and emotional stability that the 2000s made look so easy. We might not call it “commitment” anymore (because, you know, scary word), but we are all secretly longing for a slower, more grounded kind of love in a world where even attention spans have an expiry date.

The constant expectation to refresh applications, fashions, and even social circles makes the notion of forever seem outdated. However, being Gen Z, we continually uncover the 2000’s, a time that was more down-to-earth and where love was not just another thing but an emotional tale worth experiencing. We tend to borrow their music, fashion, aesthetics, and even their way of showing love because, honestly, we miss the feeling of permanence in a disposable world. In my opinion, the 2000’s were the last decade that knew the true essence of what it meant to slow down, what it meant to wait, and what patience was. Waiting for your crush’s text and meeting people in real life before fully relying on their online presence, and living in the moment before posting them, is what makes the 2000s the benchmark.. In today’s world, people need immediate gratification in everything: fast food, fast fashion, and even relationships. Our attention span can now be directly compared to our swiping through people; both are short and have even shorter emotional investments.

We keep going back to the 2000s because somewhere along the way love became more about protecting ourselves than feeling deeply. It’s funny how we have made ignorance and avoidance so cool that now it seems like the new normal. We’ve built and entire vocabulary just to avoid the risks, discomfort, and consequences that come with the word commitment, “situationships”, “friends with benefits”, “talking stage”,” soft launch”,  or use phrases like “figuring it out” or “it's not that deep” , why because we will do anything and everything to make ourselves be a part of this culture  even though it might involve hurting yourself, doubting yourself or being the clueless one. All these phrases are a cover-up for the quiet fear we have of being misunderstood or having a standard of our own. These words protect us, but also dissolve the very essence of what connection means. The 2000s didn't have warning boards or a dictionary of declaimers; they had their own sense of messy love, but at least it was honest. We can see that through songs like “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith, they didn't feel guilty or apologetic for wanting forever, compared to songs that this generation calls lovey-dovey.

We as a generation are so fixated on the idea of exploring before being with the right one that sometimes we let go of the right one. I think exploration is another reason for avoidance. Exploration isn’t bad per se, our generation has experienced offering the best  access to everything and the belief that the next best thing is just a swipe away. Psychologists routinely label it the “paradox of choice”,a situation where the more options people get, the less contentment they experience, mainly due to the fact that commitment, in their eyes, equates to missing out. Thus, we continue to search, believing that by chance we might uncover something exquisite, however, at the same time, that very search gradually transforms into a barrier against the openness that true closeness requires.  It may have been a conscious or subconscious decision, but we picked this one because every time we think about it, it seems so risky, yet at the same time, it is the Geet and Aditya kind of love, the Bunny and Naina love, that has already struck a chord with us. Perhaps this is the very reason behind our binge-watching of romcoms and classics like 10 Things I Hate About You, The Notebook, Nothing Hill, etc, films which not only made us believe both the big gestures and slow burns, but also a love our generation wants and hopes for, even if they pretend otherwise. We take pride in calling ourselves the most connected generation but yet intimacy is something we still struggle to define; it's not just about physical presence or closeness, but emotional availability. I think we are far from the concept of intimacy, so it is now very difficult to even give a proper and acceptable definition of it.

It is somewhere between exploration and avoidance that our real fear lies; it is not the fear of love in itself, but surrendering to love. Being a part of this generation has made me realise that maybe, we’re not afraid of love, but are scared of losing control, but isn't that the whole point? How can something real be found if there isn't risk or a little uncertainty involved? The 2000’s knew that, and maybe that is why they have such an impact on our lives even today. In a world that glorifies the temporary, wanting something permanent looks like an act of rebellion; staying is the new trend. Maybe forever doesn't always have to be “till death do us part”, or marriage, or any grand declaration for that matter, what it really needs and means is consistency, presence, and honesty. As  the world around us,from clothing to relationships, becomes easier to dispose of, the most extreme thing society can do is to choose to stay. To go for the long-term, not for the short one. To cling, not to move on. Perhaps staying put is not about fighting change, but about making something that is worth holding onto even when the world pushes us to let it go. And that could be a reason for the Gen Z not to seek the variety of options but just one thing or person that is permanent.