Crushing

As I write this, I’m listening to Julia Jacklin’s album; in fact, this entire piece – including the artwork – has been drawn out of me thanks to her twenty-nineteen release. Initially intrigued by the vibrant cover art, I was out when I first saw Crushing advertised and told myself I’d give it a listen later on, but, admittedly, I forgot. The first time I did listen to it, however, was after speaking to a close friend. I’d just moved back home and was feeling a little lost, when she called me one morning. “Right,'' she began, “I know you’re feeling crap so I’m gonna tell you about my night and then you can laugh at me”. I did exactly that, and we caught up for a while until the topic changed.

“I’m in love with Julia Jacklin,'' she stated. When asked to elaborate, she told me about Crushing, the songs and how well they described modern dating culture. We both thought I’d like it, so once we’d hung up, I hit play. I’m one of those (pretentious) people who listens to an album in order the first time and so I began with Body. I liked Jacklin’s sound a lot and could see the sense of early-twenties womanhood in them, but, during this first listen, other than Pressure to Party’s “nothing good can come from me drinking” and “pressure to learn from being alone”, I didn’t find many of the tracks to fully resonate with me on a personal (and somewhat self-obsessed) ‘I’ve lived that’ level.

Then I got to track seven.

“Tell me I’m the love of your life / Just for a night / Even if you don’t feel it”.

Almost anyone who knows me will likely be aware that I have a tendency to romanticise situations. For those who don’t, I’ll paint a quick picture; my favourite screenplay is Before Sunrise, I collect jazz records and I have an album on my phone dedicated solely to photos of fruit and veg market stalls.* I’m prone to extending small realities into big, imagined fantasies; and one of the worst parts is that I’m fully aware of this, yet I carelessly allow myself to continue anyway. Good Guy’s lyrics capture that side of me perfectly. The song feels like some stolen internal monologue of my own. It’s exactly how I felt for a big chunk of last year: I wanted to be wanted. I know it’s unhealthy, but when you’re a young woman surrounded by friends dating, ‘talking to’ and sleeping with people then I don’t think it’s strange to long for that too. I felt like there was something wrong with me and wanted the quickest fix, which, at the time, seemed like downloading an app and swiping to find (some)one. The whole experience was confusing and messy and ultimately made me feel even worse. (See: Do I Make You Feel Shy?)

Jacklin herself said the song “[is] for someone who loves The Notebook, but uses Tinder”. Now I wouldn’t say I’m a Nicholas Sparks stan or anything, but yeah, I enjoy a good cry to a rom-com once or twice a week and I was on-and-off the apps for a while. She’s right. It’s that conflict between wanting everything you see in films – striking up a conversation with a stranger, catching someone’s eye in a bar – versus the desperation for anything at all in the real world – attention, to be found attractive, someone to talk to. The whole idea of someone like me on the apps seems somewhat counterintuitive. That’s not to say I was ever on them to look for something serious, but I never had the energy to waste my time or money on shitty dates either.**

Since deleting the apps and my accounts – there’s a difference – in May, I haven’t felt much of a need to get back on them. I tried it again briefly for a few days, attempting to meet people in my area, but, even with some attractive and interesting matches, I just didn’t really care. I’m the least bothered about my love-life than I’ve been in a long time. I’m not anti-love or against dating, but I’m definitely not looking for anything and it feels really fucking good.

I now realise that the overused, “focus on yourself” truly is the best way to feel better and swiping isn’t a solution. I’ve spent the past six months meeting people, working on myself, and I’ve been lucky enough to travel a bit too. Moving away made me aware of who truly cared for me. Rather than constantly spreading myself thin, trying to please everyone or chasing them to make plans, I make sure I give my time to those who give me theirs.

By Yazz James