The Boyfriend Experience

Sometimes a taste is all you need.

Every chronically single straight girl, at some point in her life, will engage in what I call, ‘The Boyfriend Experience,’ an emotionally intense but time bound or short-term relationship, which gives one a temporary taste of life with a boyfriend. This could last weeks, or merely a matter of days and will involve a range of scenes of domestic bliss, such as long countryside walks, cooking for each other, and binging the latest season of Squid Game on Netflix. The key factor that makes it distinct from an actual ‘relationship’ is that there has been no mention of commitment from either party.

For those with commitment-phobe tendencies like myself, ‘the boyfriend experience’ will serve either as a reassuring reminder that someone might fancy you enough to act like your boyfriend (always nice) and that you might even entertain the idea, or a slightly sickening experience that reaffirms your desire to remain single forever, or at times both simultaneously.

Exactly which emotions such an experience brings up depends usually on the motivations and personality of the boy at the other end.

First, there was the boyfriend experience with the fellow commitment-phobe, and by all accounts, walking red flag. For me, this one always brings fond memories, because it didn’t for once ignite my fight or flight. A sunny day in May, lounging in the sun, his head in my lap, talking about anything and everything, except what we were. Dinners out at my favourite Thai place followed by peppermint tea and half a TV episode before we’d inevitably move to the bedroom. Speaking only in hypotheticals—“I wish I’d got the chance to date you properly…”

Then there was the boy who actually wanted to be my boyfriend, but knew that expressing it would freak me out, and so instead acted like my boyfriend in the mistaken belief that this would make me want to date him. I have never been treated so well by any boy. He planned dates, make me dinner, bought me flowers. But while I felt flattered, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lacking. A glimmer in the eye, perhaps. For a short period, I thought if I pretended to have feelings, then maybe they would rise to the surface, but they never did.

And there are the time-bound relationships, where you have no option other than to enjoy each other’s company in the moment. The edge is taken off the heartbreak in knowing there was nothing either of you could do, so of course you’ll continue to romanticise this one for the foreseeable.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever move past the realm of ‘boyfriend experience’ and into the territory of ‘actual boyfriend’. I ask myself if I want this, given that I always feel something resembling relief the moment it is over, like the joy in coming home to your own bed after a perfectly nice holiday. I think that’s the scary thing about relationships—that they aren’t just a holiday, they have to be woven into the fabric of your life. It’s something I haven’t quite yet worked out how to do.

Have you had any similar experiences? I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.