Icked Out: A loveless Phenomenon

As any other college girl, I’ve had my fair share of interactions that I dreamed would one day blossom into something romantic and meaningful. I’ve met plenty of Brads or Josiahs who thought that they could act overly masculine and I would come melting into their arms like butter on a sizzling blacktop.

            It’s a tale as old as time. A girl gets asked out on a date, spends a whole day primping (while pretending that it took no time at all), and then finally struts in to whatever movie theatre, restaurant, or coffee shop Josiah chooses. Even if there is no initial connection, she’s probably still vibrating with the usual batch of nerves and excitement while trying to breathe despite her tight dress and itching, freshly-shaved legs.

            Josiah does the gentlemanly thing and pulls her seat out for her –and she forgets, for a moment, that he’s standing in a restaurant with fresh flowers on the tables and a live quartet in the corner wearing basketball shorts and a backwards Knicks hat. That type of fashion faux pas is forgivable, he might not have known or not have felt comfortable in a suit or even just a dinner jacket.

            It’s not until Josiah reads our waitress’ nametag and calls her by her name that she feels that inevitable sinking feeling in her gut. It’s good manners to call the waitstaff by their name, sure, but the girl can’t help but cringe at the informality. She sucks in a deep breath through her teeth and finds a way to leave before he asks the fated question.

            “Will there be a second date?”

Any millennial or Gen-Z is familiar with the concept of “icks.” Icks are not big things like uncommon interests or a lack of physical attraction; they’re small nit-picky things that sends someone over the edge eliminating any attraction. Some of them don’t even have reasoning behind them such as being an only child or drinking milk, but they’re game changers for some.

Getting an ick is a death sentence for any sort of human connection because as soon as you see your man or woman wear flipflops, use an umbrella, or blow on their soup –you’ve lost all feelings you might have had.

It’s arbitrary. And it’s going to be the fall of human connection.

We’ve grown accustomed to a society where this is standard, where we can find minor icks in romantic partners to cushion our utter aloneness. Now, in the age of hookup culture, we’ve grown used to this fast-paced exchange of human warmth only to go home alone afterwards.

It wasn’t until I got into a relationship and stuck around through someone’s icks that I realized how naïve this concept is. Everybody has icks; the conscious decision to look past them should be the norm.

Love is ignoring those icks and not letting them deter you from getting to know the amazing person in front of you. I could have left when I found out my boyfriend has navy sheets or when I came into his room and only saw one pillow on his bed, but I wanted to get to know him instead, for once.

This serves as a formal apology to the Josiah’s of the world who yearn for the same human connection as the rest of us. You will find someone who looks past your icks and thinks its cute when you call the waitress by her name.

It’s good to be picky when you’re choosing your significant other. It’s important to not settle for sub-par or change what you want just because there’s someone in front of you just looking to give you attention. However, it’s also good to give people a chance and not write them off after a single undesirable trait.