The Singleporean: Superficial first dates are my biggest ick

The Singleporean is an anonymous column by a 30something, female Singaporean writer who’s obviously single (and cautiously ready to mingle). She pens her thoughts on work, relationships, and adulting from the lens of a millennial on the cusp of a mid-life crisis.

I stood awkwardly in front of a gaudy collage of naked women in various suggestive poses. To my left, the exit sign glowed brightly, beckoning. To my right, my date was mansplaining why, out of all the artworks in this cavernous exhibition, this was his favourite.

My eyes glazed over, arms folded across my chest. “Purgatory” felt like the word of the evening. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about a second date. After we left the art gallery, he flagged down a passing cab, hopped in, and left me standing on the street with an unceremonious “goodbye”.

I would have done the same, except he beat me to it.

That was in 2014. That evening still tops my list as one of the worst in my brief dating history. Young, easily impressed, and perhaps a little naive back then, I had assumed that a date at an art exhibition – his choice, not mine – meant he had culture in spades.

Now, I’m old enough to know better. I’ve come to realise that dating and relationships become more fulfilling when we are not trying to impress each other. I prefer a vibe check over text, followed by casual conversation over drinks. Meeting at a trendy bar is nice, but I’d be just as happy grabbing a beer from the convenience store if we hit it off.

One of my most enjoyable meet-ups involved a stop at a supermarket for sushi, followed by drinks at a hawker centre. Maybe it was the absence of pretence (or more likely, the lack of expectations). Dressed for the sweltering heat, we both showed up in shorts – he was in a T-shirt and sports shoes, while I wore a blouse and sneakers. We bonded over Carlsbergs and Asahis, with our attraction growing as the evening went on.

Simplicity over superficiality

Sure, first dates are important – there’s no point forcing a connection if we detest each other on sight. But we often forget that real connection is built through small, intimate moments, something that takes time to nurture.

My fondest memories are tied to the simplest gestures. Sweet nectarines offered during a break from hiking in the forest – unexpected, but a welcome summer respite. Noticing my love of spicy food and taking me out for some good biryani when I was feeling homesick while travelling in Europe. Embracing me tightly in the middle of a crowded train station after we hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Listening without judgement, and actually remembering the little details from our conversations.

Maybe it’s a sign of personal growth, or perhaps I’m just mellowing out. The superficial “icks” that used to define how I viewed a potential date in my 20s – what he wore, how he presented himself – are no longer as important. What truly matters is how he shows concern, how he treats others, and whether he lives by values that I identify with. These are what count beyond the first impression.

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