6 minute read
PARANOID IN LOVE by Kate Fryer
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WORDS Kate Fryer
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(she/her)
ART Charlotte Docherty
(she/her)
in love in lovein love in love
CW: mentions of violence, sexual violence, violence against children, kidnapping, stalking, emotional abuse We’re a paranoid generation. We’ve grown up with stories of stranger danger, conspiracy theories, and the FBI carefully listening to private convos through our iPhones. Paranoia can be a diagnosed mental illness, but it can also be understood as either a deep anxiety that someone or something will harm us, or simply a level of concern that is labeled, by others, as irregular, be that in content or degree. In the context of dating, let us understand paranoia, here, as a conflation of both anxiety and this allegedly irregular concern.
Growing up against the backdrop of the Madeline McCann case and the omnipresent ‘man in a white van’, we have grown accustomed to the fear of falling victim to violence - be it physical, sexual, or verbal. Yet, most of us would have also found ourselves on Omegle at a sleepover, aged 12, in those anxiety ridden days when we were just learning how to do winged eyeliner and watching Skins for the first time. We didn’t want to admit it, but the whole experience really just affirmed what our parents were saying. There are people out there, hard to identify often until it’s too late, who are very much willing to take advantage of any vulnerability. It is this combination of adults incessantly instilling fear in us and being flashed by creeps through our pals’ cracked iPad screens that has seen some of us develop mixed feelings when it comes to dating. A paranoia, if you will.
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The fear of ‘stranger danger’ and dating intersect at one of the cornerstones of contemporary society – online dating. For our first 17 years and 364 days it’s drilled into us to never talk to anyone you don’t know online - don’t post your name, your location, or even your age, lest you find yourself attacked, kidnapped, murdered. But the minute the clock strikes midnight on your 18th birthday, it’s a free-for-all on Tinder. With dating apps (Tinder, Hinge, Bumble – pick your poison) so normalised - downloaded halfway through whatever budget wine you’re drinking - it’s pretty easy for any concerns to be brushed off as ‘paranoia’. Regardless, I know that the idea of it awakens the fear in me, hence why I’ve never had Tinder for more than one day. I know that the chances of Glasgow University’s answer to Joe Goldberg stalking me is pretty improbable. But a long-ingrained mistrust of the internet coupled with an awareness of the prevalence of violence and assault in the dating world are enough to stop me in my tracks - and I know I’m not the only one. This obviously has its knock-on effects in the realm of my love life, especially whilst we’re in a state where there aren’t plentiful real life opportunities to meet new people.
A general paranoia regarding safety seems to permeate through all aspects of dating – regardless of whether or not strangers and dating apps are involved. The speculation as to possible outcomes of a date turning sour (to put it lightly) can affect every ounce of behaviour before, during and after a date. The age-old question of ‘what was she wearing?’ can cause many an outfit change, just in case we need to be able to defend ourselves with our clothing choices. This concern of possible victim-blaming also poses a major issue when it comes to the classic pub date. The potential of being taken advantage of in a drunken state, and the events that may follow, will have some pointing blame to me, to us, rather than the only one responsible – the one taking advantage. This fear doesn’t really cooperate with the desire to have a pint of cider in hand for liquid courage.
This leads us onto a different variety of paranoia, one harder to justify to pals or back up with statistics and horror stories. It isn’t embroiled with the distrust of people and society, but rather distrust in oneself. We never say the right thing. It’s always too much or too little. Too pretentious or too boring. Did it look like you were trying to show off? Or like you’re the dullest person around? This ability to find fault in whatever we may say of course often manifests itself in saying nothing. Whilst some may swear by ‘playing hard to get’, not communicating at all doesn’t lead to desired results. Nonetheless, what is one to do? When the very idea of sparking up conversation with someone makes you feel sick to your stomach with dread, the only reasonable option is to say nothing, go home and agonise over how much of a weirdo you must look for doing so – it makes for a fun evening. What’s more, as someone who made the rookie error of mistaking friendship crushes for actual crushes in high school, concerns can also arise when I start to like someone. Do I actually fancy them or do I just think they’re sound? Am I just bored in a pandemic, wanting something to focus on that isn’t a uni deadline? The desire to avoid committing such a blunder leads to – you guessed it – paranoia whenever a potential crush rears its head.
But emotion-based paranoia isn’t solely restricted to the self - it comes out in relationships as well. Are they lying? Cheating? Am I overreacting to comments they’ve made? Of course, being told repeatedly that you’re ‘ridiculous’, ‘upsetting them’ or just plain ‘paranoid’ leads to a questioning of your own feelings. We’re gaslighted. The paranoia is further instilled within us - we’re paranoid about being paranoid. And paranoia isn’t hot right now. No one wants to date - or be - someone in a tin foil hat, and the ‘crazy girlfriend’ stereotype plays into exactly that collective consensus.
The thing is, none of this is really paranoia. Our so-called paranoias are very much rooted in reality. The reality is that, unfortunately, there is always a potential risk - whether that’s in regards to love, or, on the more serious side of the spectrum, to personal safety. The fact is that our distrust in ourselves and concern over how others perceive us is rooted in our past experiences: these feelings are perfectly natural, even if highly frustrating at times.
Inevitably, we may all run the risk of cockblocking ourselves into oblivion with our so-called paranoias. We may transform any potential match into a disaster in our heads. But let’s not get angry with that ‘lil inner voice for trying to protect us. It’s worth acknowledging your inner paranoia and saying to yourself: ‘thanks for the concern, love, but I’m alright. I trust and like what I’m doing’. When it comes to safety, let’s be careful to label these concerns as paranoia. This heightened awareness is rooted in past experiences - and it can come out on anything from a chill date to a hook-up that’s admittedly got really quite creepy vibes. Is it better to be paranoid or heartbroken? It’s a bit of a toss up. Is it better to be paranoid or dead? Para, please.
