Gen Z’s evolving views on marriage highlight a significant shift—one where romance is increasingly detached from commitment.

Economic realities, digital culture, and a preference for authenticity over idealism drive their approach to relationships.

For Gen Z, love is often secondary to partnership.

According to Pew Research (2024), 79% of respondents value marriage as a tool for financial and emotional stability rather than a romantic ideal.

Rising costs and job precarity mean that relationships are often evaluated through a practical lens.

Historically, lavender marriages—unions between a man and a woman designed to conceal one partner’s sexual orientation—emerged during an era when societal norms rigidly defined love and family.

Popularized in Hollywood’s golden age, these arrangements were pragmatic solutions to moral scrutiny and career protection.

Today, lavender marriages are experiencing an unexpected revival, but for different reasons. Gen Z, navigating a world of skyrocketing housing costs, student debt, and fragile job markets, is reimagining these unions as practical partnerships for survival.

Marriage, for many, has evolved into a strategic social contract rather than a purely romantic pursuit.

It turns out middle-aged men are the power users of dating apps—swiping more, using more platforms, and staying longer than women.

According to The International Journal of Clinical and Health Psychology, men aren’t just chasing flings—they’re navigating a complex digital social ecosystem.

Let's unravel the whole saga, complete with science, psychology, and a bit of existential humor.

There you are, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, ignoring your partner’s voice in the background.

Not maliciously. Not intentionally.

Just the kind of ignoring that happens when a human being has been married or partnered for longer than six weeks.

And then, suddenly, it appears—the meme. The one with the exhausted-looking couple in a Target parking lot. The caption reads: "Married for 20 years. Argued the entire car ride. Still holding hands on the way in."

You snort. You show it to your partner. They snort. Neither of you apologizes for whatever nonsense you were arguing about earlier.

This is love.

Once upon a time, before TikTok algorithms could decide our dating personas, people simply were.

Now, thanks to the vast neural net of social media, we find ourselves choosing between two archetypes that have taken over modern romance: Brat and Demure.

They are two sides of the same performative coin, and like all good internet memes, they probably started as a joke. But here we are.

In the ever-evolving world of social media, relationship theories come and go like viral dance trends.

But one meme that’s making waves across TikTok and Instagram is the Blue Nail Theory—a phenomenon that has sparked heated debates, hilarious reactions, and even changed some nail salon decisions.

What Is the Blue Nail Theory?

Somewhere in China, a college student is doing push-ups instead of doomscrolling. This is progress.

According to a new study published in Addictive Behaviors, exercise—yes, good old-fashioned moving your body until it hurts—actually reduces Internet addiction among Chinese college students.

Not only does it pry their eyeballs away from their screens, but it also alleviates anxiety, loneliness, stress, feelings of inadequacy, fatigue, and depression.

In other words, exercise may be the only thing standing between them and total existential collapse.

Nowadays, because mental health services struggle to keep pace with demand, digital mental health interventions have emerged as a hopeful solution.

However, a new review published in JMIR Mental Health takes a deep dive into the effectiveness of these interventions, particularly for individuals on psychotherapy waiting lists.

The findings, however, raise critical questions: Are these tools genuinely transformative, or are they merely placeholders in a system straining under the weight of demand?

In a world where traditional family structures are shifting, many people are turning to an unexpected source for connection—social media.

From Facebook groups to TikTok communities, some are seeking and forming surrogate families, filling the emotional gaps left by estrangement, distance, or the loss of loved ones.

While this may sound like a plot from a futuristic novel, the reality is that online surrogate families are emerging as a profoundly human response to modern isolation.

Why Are Surrogate Families Becoming Popular?

So, you’ve been “seeing” someone for a year.

You go on cute coffee dates, send memes back and forth, and sometimes even hold hands in public. But every time you bring up “What are we?”

they dodge the question like a seasoned Olympic sprinter. You’re not single, but you’re not really together either.

Congratulations. You’re in a situationship. Why date when you can drift?

Now, let’s crank the emotional turmoil up a notch. What if you’re not just in a situationship—what if you’ve settled for one?

Welcome to the era of Situationship Settlers, where people camp out in undefined relationships like they’re waiting for Coachella tickets that may never go on sale.

What Is a Situationship Settler?

What is St-ick-ing?

Modern dating culture is obsessed with the ick—those small, often trivial habits or quirks that inexplicably turn you off a potential partner.

Maybe they clap when the plane lands. Maybe they wear socks to bed. Maybe they text with too many emojis (or not enough).

The St-ick-ing Meme is the quiet rebellion against nitpicking in relationships.

St-ick-ing is the act of choosing to look past minor annoyances and focus on the bigger picture—compatibility, values, emotional security, and shared joy.

In an age where dating apps provide an endless buffet of new romantic options, st-ick-ing is a radical choice: a commitment to depth over superficiality.

Modern dating—the land of left swipes, "wyd?" texts at 2 AM, and now… fizzling.

If ghosting wasn’t bad enough, we’ve evolved (or devolved?) into something even more insidious: soft ghosting, aka "fizzling."

Wait, What Is Fizzling?

Fizzling is what happens when someone doesn’t outright disappear like a ghost but slowly fades into the abyss, one unanswered text at a time.

They’re not gone—not yet—but they’re definitely not here either. Think of it as a Wi-Fi signal slowly dropping to one bar before disconnecting altogether. One minute, you're sharing memes and planning weekend brunches, and the next, you're waiting three days for a dry "haha" reply.

Why Do People Fizzle Instead of Just Breaking Up?