Carrie Bradshaw takes on Toronto
In a city where our morning coffee order is more consistent than our love lives, I can’t help but wonder if we’re addicted to quick fixes, or if we actually crave something that lasts? This February, as we swipe right on both candidates and Tinder profiles, we’re faced with the same question: do we go for the easy choice, or the one that will actually be good for us in the long run?
Love, like politics, is about timing. Canada is about to get a new prime minister. Ontario is heading into a snap election. Everyone is being asked to make a choice. And in dating, we’re constantly choosing: swipe left or right? Keep it casual or define the relationship? Text back or ghost? Hustling through the burdens of midterm season, facing the terror of an all-nighter, we may reach for different options. There’s coffee and energy drinks – the dating equivalent of a quick dopamine hit. Instant gratification, often followed by a crash. Then there’s matcha. Less exciting at first, but it can sustain you. We chase the thrill of the espresso shot; hot, fast, and over before we’ve even left the café. But maybe what we need is the matcha: steady, reliable, and leaving us better off than it found us. Nonetheless, many of us still chase the quick fix: the jolt of a double shot of espresso, the thrill of a first date, the rush of a match that will never leave the app. Because deep down, what if it does become something? What if we invest, we commit…and then they leave?
In university, everything can feel too temporary. Apartments on a limited lease. Courses that end before they even begin. Our experience here is time-bound. People are already half-packed for their next chapter, and I can’t help but wonder if it is easier to never unpack at all? The chaos and workload of university can incentivise us to keep things casual, to not get attached, to treat dating like a seasonal latte. It motivates us to keep our distance from each other as we become fractured by college, program, or competition for a grading curve. If we never fully invest, we never have to be the one left standing in an empty apartment, watching someone else move on to their dream job in another city. You never have to be the reason someone hesitates before accepting an offer elsewhere on the globe. Sometimes, you think you have something real, something serious, something big. But before it can be fully yours, that something Big is moving to Paris. Love, after all, isn’t just about who we want. It’s also about who we’re willing to follow, and what we’re willing to leave behind.
But love, like caffeine, isn’t supposed to be about the crash. It’s about what sustains you. And maybe the answer isn’t to avoid attachment, but to choose the right kind, the kind that doesn’t burn out after a single night. The kind that, even if it doesn’t last forever, leaves you better than it found you.
This Valentine’s Day, love isn’t the only thing up for debate. While Canadians are weighing their options for a new prime minister and Ontarians are staring down a snap election, we’re also making another choice. In modern dating, we’re all our own political candidates, curating the perfect profiles, crafting the right messages, and hoping someone casts their vote (or at the very least, not ghost us before the second date). At a time where commitment feels as unstable as a minority government, I can’t help but wonder if we’re all just waiting for a better option?
For many young people with the world in their hands, commitment can feel like a risky game. Choose one person, one path, one political candidate, and you’re always wondering if there was a better option. We’re trained to keep our options open, whether it’s in our careers, our cities, or our relationships. But at what point does keeping our options open just become an excuse to never choose at all? Maybe that’s why so many keep dating like it’s a political primary – waiting for the perfect candidate, never realising that the perfect choice is often the one we invest in, not the one we hold out for.
And just like that, February isn’t just about heart-shaped chocolates and questionable date-night menus at IKEA – it’s about making a choice. Not just between swiping left or right, but between instant gratification and something that actually lasts. Between the caffeine rush of yet another fleeting romance and the steady, sustaining energy of real commitment. This February, maybe we should be more intentional with our choices. Less fleeting, more foundational. Seeking the kind of love that doesn’t leave us jittery and exhausted, but stable and satisfied. The kind that doesn’t disappear after the first sip or campaign promise.
