let's talk about: love in the modern age

It is undeniable: love looks very different to how it did when our parents were growing up. 

I am part of a generation of MSN and BBM users, frustrated pre-teens whose happiness depended on the appearance of three words: ‘online,’ ‘opened’ and ‘typing…'. Boys were a distant fantasy upon which you could project anything from the safety of the school’s computer room. 

As a result of the speed of technological change, how we show love and display affection has been shifting just as quickly throughout the last decade – relationships are more public and shared than ever before. What started as my tentative inclusion of a boy’s initials at the end of my BBM display name has culminated in a purely selfish desire to share couple pictures on social media - there is no difference between the two actions. This act of publicly staking a claim has become part of a covert, subconscious game of one-upmanship, insistent proof of one’s happiness. 

Valentine’s Day made it startlingly obvious to me; as I refreshed the app throughout the day, I was greeted by an onslaught of bouquets adorned with emoji hearts, each more excessive and gushy than the last. It made me sick. But, to my utter despair, it also made me thoroughly jealous. I have a loving boyfriend, and a burgeoning hatred for the capitalist scum that thought up Valentine’s Day (thinly veiling my love of...well, love) – why on earth was I jealous? I found myself subconsciously wondering why my bouquet of flowers hadn’t arrived by 9am, and why later I hadn’t been whisked away for a glamorous meal forty floors above a twinkling London. Even though I know these things aren't necessarily real markers of love, I couldn’t help but compare my own romantic experience with those of the people that were sharing theirs with me. 

It sounds fickle and ridiculous, and it is. But it was a valuable lesson that made me ask myself questions about how we share our relationships online and whether or not romance and technology are compatible. In an age where the individual reigns supreme, where does another person fit into this? How can another person, with differing priorities and ideas of love, fit into our desire for romantic success and digital affirmation?

What I find so difficult to comprehend is the question of why many of us experience such an intense response to something that doesn't physically exist. I remind myself that social media is a kind of reality that, undeniably, has integral importance in how we interact with other people. Granted, it is a reality that undoubtedly needs policing and frequent 'reality checks' in order to sustain a sense of perspective that is easily lost.

My boyfriend and I have differing ideas about how much of a relationship should be shared online. He is unwilling to share that part of his private life with others; for me, it is an important (but not necessary) part of expressing pride and love in the 21st century. For many, posting is the new romantic fantasy; taking pride in your relationship is no longer isolated to physical interactions. 

There is also the question of how much technology is physically present in our romantic relationships. I asked my followers on Instagram whether or not they'd ever wished their partner would spend less time on their phone: 86 voted yes, 30 no. The majority of people who I’ve spoken to about the presence of technology in their relationship share the opinion that there is a clear distinction between being physically present and actually engaging with your partner. I often catch myself and Will sitting together, both touching but preoccupied by our separate screens. The paradox of the modern relationship is being separated, even when you're physically curled up in bed under the pretence of watching Chef’s Table together. There's even a word for it - 'phubbing' (N.B. not exclusive to fans of Chef's Table).  

In his documentary ‘Love in the Modern Age,’ Spike Jonze said that technology has obliterated boundaries, and therefore we are all accessible in a way in which we have never been before. While this might be the case, technology has inadvertently built a different set of boundaries which exist between couples. Though we now experience a kind of constant, ambient intimacy with people over social media, this is no replacement for the deeply personal connections we have in our physical lives. What becomes increasingly important is seeking out these small pockets of personal intimacy that are impossible online.

For instance, we're all guilty of waking up in the morning and, in a half-asleep state, fumbling for the lock button on your phone. Instead of turning to your phone, turn to your partner. It sounds simple, but it is worth reminding yourself that it is these sun-dappled moments of warmth you will remember, not the notification that someone else has lost their keys out clubbing. Facebook’s incessant desire for us to make digital ‘memories’ is no substitute for the real thing. 

This is not to say that technology always hinders intimacy; thousands of long-distance relationships thrive off the thrill of the small, green dot that marks their partner's presence thousands of miles away. The fact that technology can strengthen a romantic bond while the other person is unable to physically be there is a fantastic thing. But we must assess what role technology plays in a relationship where you are able to physically be with your partner.    

I can’t help but feel that our complex relationship with social media means that technology invariably gets in the way of our meaningful, human connections. If there is a way of reconciling intimacy and technology, we've got a long way to go. In the meantime, if you have the luxury of being able to physically be with your partner, put your phone down and reconnect. Make the time and space for each other in a way where the phones are switched to 'Do Not Disturb'. Sharing your life with somebody, not just virtually, is more important now than ever.