Enter who Iâm going to call Elijah: tall (at least according to his profile), a sharp smile, and banter that actually kept up with mine. He loved to travel (a non-negotiable for me), he was a fellow Manchester United fan, and he even threw in a playful, âI like to troll at times tooâ during our first few messages, letting me know he wasnât afraid to dish it right back. Enough shared interests to make me think, This might actually go somewhere.
At first, things seemed promising. We agreed to meetâtalked about a time and placeâ¦but as the day approached, I realized we were still just texting. No solid plans. No details. Nothing locked in. The vibe had shifted from âweâre meetingâ to âare we, though?â
And then, instead of confirming, Elijah hit me with a full-on confessional. He admitted he had a fear of âtemporary people,â wanting to know the end goal before anything even began. Translation: heâd already pre-drafted an expiration date for âusâ before weâd even met, casually adding that he had one, maybe two, attempts left in him before giving up on love altogether.
At 30, I have no patience for mental gymnastics or existential dating crises. So, I got straight to the point: âSir, is this your way of assessing if itâs even worth meeting?â Subtext: Are you canceling before weâve even met?
Elijah tried to reassure me, âI just donât want you to feel like Iâm giving minimum effort.â But his actions said otherwise. The energy I want from a man comes without disclaimers, without doubts, and certainly without hesitation. So, we wished each other well and closed the chapter before it even began.
For Black women in 2025, this isnât just a one-off storyâitâs a recurring pattern. Breadcrumbing, soft-launching, and perfectly timed three-hour text responses have become the norm. The lack of effort has been so widespread itâs turned into a collective punchline among my group of friends. Different faces, identical archetypes, and all roads lead to the same dead end.
But itâs not just me and my friends. Social media is filled with caricatures of guys who either completely miss the mark or almost get there but fall just shortâacross the board, not just Black men. Thereâs the âIâm the Prizeâ¢â guy, who thinks a clean apartment, a steady gym routine, and a decent paycheck make him Godâs gift to women. And the âPodcast Philosopherâ¢,â who cloaks shallow takes on relationships in intellectual jargon, tossing them out like mic drops. One talks you in circles; the other expects you to meet him exactly where he stands. Both demand emotional labor theyâd never offer in return, neither considering they might be the problem.
Then thereâs the âI donât want to waste your timeâ¢â guy, whose noble-sounding speech is just a preemptive excuse for minimal effort (looking at you, Elijah). Or his counterpart, Busy Guyâ¢, whose grind seems admirableâuntil itâs clear thereâs no room for you in it. And letâs not forget, nine times out of 10, heâs the one who approached you.
Add to that the Love Bomberâ¢, who talks about forever but canât commit to next week; the Trauma-Dumperâ¢, who mistakes your emotional bandwidth for free therapy; and The Narcissistâ¢, who doesnât just leave you doubting yourselfâhe ensures it, chipping away at your confidence until all the focus is on him. And, of course, The Grand Gesture Ghosterâ¢, immortalized by the TikTok trend âDudes the day before they ghost you,â with his hilariously over-the-top declarationsâLetâs go to Italy tomorrow⦠I told my mom about us⦠City hall is just down the street!âbefore vanishing without a trace.