Can I just say something? As a society built around labels — from nutrition to politics, relationships to social — maybe it’s time we ditch the need to define everything. Especially when you’re dating in a new city, where it’s just as much about meeting new people as it is about putting a label on a relationship. As an LA girl, now spending time between LA and Miami, experiencing life in a new city has shifted my perspective, showing me that not every connection needs a title. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying the moment and seeing where it takes you, without the pressure of defining what it is before it even starts. Why does every romantic connection need a title? Why do we have to neatly categorize something that’s meant to be fluid, exciting, and, dare I say, fun?
Enter the situationship. The gloriously undefined middle ground between casual and committed. The space where you can enjoy late-night texts, spontaneous weekend plans, and stolen glances across a crowded bar — without the pressure of meeting the parents or planning joint holiday cards. And yet, society loves to vilify situationships, branding them as “wasted time” or a “lack of real commitment.”
But what if we flipped the script? What if, instead of seeing them as limbo, we saw them as a playground? A place to explore, connect, and live in the moment — without the looming stress of what are we? conversations.
I learned this firsthand when I found myself in a situationship with The Storm. He was never meant to be my forever, and deep down, I knew that, despite the hope that continuously creeped in. But that didn’t stop me from getting caught up in the thrill of it all because in LA, it feels impossible to find “the one” but you can collect stories. And this? This was a story.
It was late nights, driving down Sunset, his hand resting on my thigh like it belonged there. It was spontaneous weekend plans that always felt like a movie scene, whispered words that meant everything in the moment but nothing in the morning. We never had the talk — we didn’t need to. The chemistry was enough. Until it wasn’t.
And now, as I navigate dating in a new city, I realize something I didn’t see back then: I liked the uncertainty. I liked being kept on my toes, the push and pull, the chase that never quite ended. The Shift — that intoxicating phase where something feels like it’s deepening but never fully settles — was addicting. With The Storm, there was always movement, a constant ebb and flow that kept me engaged. Every lingering glance, every late-night text, every moment that felt like it could be leading somewhere kept me hooked. But the truth is, it never actually shifted into something real — it only gave the illusion of progress.
And maybe that’s why I let it drag on longer than it should have — because deep down, I craved the thrill of almost. I was chasing The Boom, that undeniable moment when everything between two people shifts into something more…that point of no return. But with The Storm, the Boom never came. It was all ignition, all sparks, but never the explosion that rewrites the story. Instead, I lived in the in-between, convincing myself that the high of uncertainty was better than the calm of something secure.
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t just caught up in him — I was caught up in the unpredictability, the way every interaction felt like a gamble, the way the lack of definition made every moment feel urgent. And now, as I split my time between LA and Miami, I find myself questioning whether I really want to keep chasing the chaos or if I’m finally ready to let something unfold without the constant push and pull.
Because that’s the thing about a Storm — it never stays. It rages, it consumes, and then it moves on, leaving you to pick up the debris. But instead of mourning what it wasn’t, I learned to appreciate what it was. It wasn’t a failure just because it didn’t come with a label. It was an experience, a rush, a reminder that not every connection needs a title to be real.
Maybe it’s a hot take, but I think in 2025, we should embrace the beauty of undefined romance. Maybe the best connections aren’t the ones that fit neatly into a box, but the ones that make us feel something real — titles be damned.
Instead of rushing to define a relationship, what if we just allowed ourselves to live in it? To exist in the moment, enjoy the chemistry, and let things unfold naturally. If it progresses into something committed, great. If not, and you find yourself feeling unfulfilled, you walk away — no overanalyzing, no forcing what isn’t meant to fit. No more ignoring red flags or convincing yourself that uncertainty is romantic.
Maybe the healthiest approach to love in 2025 is simply this: let it be what it is, for as long as it works, and when it doesn’t — let it go.
Not every love story needs a definition — just a damn good plot. And not everything is meant to last forever — some things are just meant to be. And in a city like LA, where love is fleeting and the next great romance is always around the corner, sometimes the most unforgettable love stories are the ones that never had a name. And as an LA girl, let’s see if Miami has a new dating story waiting to be written.
Xoxo,
Alexandria