Every day since November 7th, I’ve walked around and looked into men’s eyes and wondered: Did you do this? Did you vote for him? Are you happy that Donald Trump is taking back power? It may be unfair, but that’s still my reaction months later re-election of Trumpwhich felt like a declaration that rape, fraud, racism, corruption and blasphemy are not only acceptable, but defended and embraced. Together with the growing gender gap between young men and women’s political leanings, I can’t help but feel wary about dating men right now—especially with Trump being re-inaugurated.
I’m changing my mind about dating straight, cis men in a post-Trump reality.
I would like to preface this by saying that at my core I am one hopeless romantic. I love love. I am currently happy single but would eventually like to be in a long-term relationship. But actively dating or not, I felt this choice was personal: an intentional one breach of securitywomen’s needs and rights, along with many other marginalized groups. It is frightening to know that so many of my peers – young men specifically who swung sharply toward supporting him in this election cycle – chose to elect a figure who is the antithesis of everything I believe in.
The election and inauguration are flashpoints that reveal how pervasive and alluring patriarchy still is, how deep it runs. And that’s why I’m changing my approach to dating straight, cis men in a post-Trump reality.
It feels like a dangerous time to exist, let alone date, as a woman. The blatant misogyny that Trump embodies has become more acceptable among young men because it removed any shame from holding these beliefs. Whatever offensive views were tamed during the Women’s March and Me Too era have returned with a vengeance since the last election cycle, and recent interactions have revealed to me that racism, misogyny, and ignorance in “progressive” cities like New York, where I alive, are as common as they are in red states.
For example, earlier this year I had a crush on someone I worked with who was a born and raised New Yorker and an actor. I assumed we were clear on politics, but his true nature began to reveal itself when he shared that he broke up with his last girlfriend because he didn’t want to have sex with “any old cunt.” It reminded me of Trump’s infamous “grab her in the pussy” comment and exemplified for me in real time the president-elect’s impact on normalizing vulgar, sexist language, which I fear will only get worse in the coming months.
Another big fear comes from not knowing what the entitled men out there really believe. I recently learned that the man I was in love with last year was a Trump supporter, something he never expressed in my presence. Men my age may know that many women our age do not accept that behavior. (After all, young women in swing states favored Kamala Harris in this last election.) It bothers me to know that there is something of a code of silence or selective hearing going on among certain groups of men. It’s worse than being an outright misogynist; it creates a false safety net when that type of man tells women what he thinks they want to hear.
For me, that trauma is deep. An ex-boyfriend eventually revealed himself last spring when I complained about sexual harassment in the restaurant industry. He responded that I needed to “find a new piece,” because my feminist beliefs were “crummy and so 2016.” I am retelling these stories now, not to call out these individuals, but to call attention to the visible shift in the way men think about and talk to women—which I argue has been encouraged by Trump.
Dating is always a little dangerous—love is always a risk—but I hate that it’s normal for women in their 20s like me to feel devalued, objectified, and forced to feel powerless. And when I’ve tried to have honest conversations about this with men (family members, colleagues, and acquaintances) throughout the election cycle, I’ve felt incredibly alone and misunderstood. When I’ve spoken about my dismay at the “her body, my choice” movement or how difficult it is to date the politics in question, it’s often met with jokes and laughter, dismissed as “dramatic” — not unlike the way Trump and his cohort responds to these concerns.
It is a form of power, a way of reclaiming our bodies, which are constantly feasted on by the male gaze.
How much can women take? Before we just give up? Before we lose hope? Such is the dilemma exemplified by The 4B movementwhich started in South Korea and features women who essentially swear off men entirely. While I don’t plan to go to this extreme, I totally see the appeal. In a world where so much of our influence with men lies in our sexuality, the only thing we have control over is how much of ourselves we give away, or don’t. It is a form of power, a way of reclaiming our bodies, which are constantly feasted on by the male gaze. Sometimes it feels like the only power we have left is to withhold ourselves and our bodies from men as if it’s some kind of punishment.
Honestly, I’m terrified that I’ll never meet someone who sees me and loves me and understands me, or at least really tries. I want that kind of love more than anything, but these days it seems further away than ever. But I’m not willing to give up hope either. As these feelings have lingered within me for several months, I have decentered from my life, as have several of my close friends. While I will always be a hopeless romantic, the pain, anger and frustration I have felt regarding the election and many young men’s reaction to it drove me to a point where I knew I needed to take a step back.
When I’m ready to start dating again, I’ll do things differently. While it may feel heavy-handed to bring up politics on a first date, dropping the occasional half-joking sentiment about the state of the world can be a good indicator of where they stand and gauge their reaction.
And whether it’s the first date or the fifth, if the conversation turns to politics, I think transparency is the best way to go. In the past, I have sometimes played down my beliefs to make myself appear more palatable to who I perceive the other person to be – which has benefited no one. It can be hard to stand up for yourself, but something I remind myself is to never let anyone make you feel ashamed of who you are or what you believe. And ultimately, if you’re not aligned with core issues like women’s rights, you’re probably going to have much bigger problems down the road.
But at the moment I prioritize mostly about myself. With an administration that wants to take away my rights and seize power, I protect my own peace. I have devoted myself to my work and hobbies, things that bring me joy, and have made concerted efforts to deepen and celebrate my friendships, especially with women. Having such a strong community of people I respect and trust, and vice versa, has restored a lot of my hope and faith in humanity. Sometimes you have to take a step back to move forward. When dating feels like a priority for me again, it will be driven with a healthier mindset and confidence in who I am and what I’m looking for in a partner.
Abby Balter is a culture writer based in New York City. Abby is passionate about covering everything from politics and social justice to sex and relationships to the fashion and art landscape. Abby’s work has been featured in PS, Boston Common Magazine, Cambridge Chronicle and more.
