There is a word going round that sounds made up because it is. Chalant. The opposite of nonchalant. A man who texts back. A man who says I like you without treating it like a hostage video. A man who can be seen in public giving a toss.
New York has been shouting it. TikTok has been shouting it. Women in group chats have been shouting it since approximately the invention of leaving someone on read for sport. I am adding Essex to the pile. Jog on.
Cool was never cool. It was a strategy
The advice column for boys has been the same for a decade. Wait three days. Do not double text. Match her energy, meaning starve it. Be the prize. If she wanted to she would, so sit there like furniture and call it frame.
That is not seduction. That is a man so frightened of looking keen he outsources the relationship to silence.
I have dated the disappearing act. Golden chat. Good date. Then radio. Then a hey stranger on Thursday as if I am a shop he pops into. When you ask, he says he has been busy. Busy is fine. Busy that cannot type five words is a choice. He was not slammed. He was managing you.
Mystery is a gap you fall into because his life is full. Nonchalance is a gap he digs so you will do the reaching. One is a person. One is a power game with worse punctuation.
If he liked you, you would not need a decoder ring
Women got told we were desperate for wanting a reply. For wanting plans that exist in a calendar, not in a cloud of maybe. For wanting a man who can say come over and also I missed you without combusting.
Meanwhile he wants sex, company, an audience, and the option to keep shopping. Playing it cool lets him have all four. You look clingy if you name it. He looks chill. The branding is doing a lot of work.
Chalant is not love bombing. Love bombing is a flood with a purpose. Chalant is consistent. He books the table. He answers the question. He does not punish you for having a nice time without him. He can hold your hand on the street without scanning for witnesses like he is in a crime drama.
Think the men who look slightly daft with pride. Loud at the gig. Soft in the group photo. Not because they are weak. Because they are not using your nervous system as a dimmer switch.
The ego is the point
Nonchalance protects him from the horror of being the one who cares more.
If he never shows his hand, he never loses. If you chase, he wins. If you stop, he can say you were never that deep anyway. Perfect little closed loop. You do all the emotional labour of wondering. He keeps his story intact.
Shit tests used to be her job in their mythology. Now the whole relationship is a test. Will she wait. Will she explain his silence to herself. Will she accept breadcrumbs and call them standards.
I grew up around men who said what they meant and men who went quiet and called it being laid back. Laid back is a sofa. A partner is meant to show up.
You can be busy. You can be shy. You can need a minute. What you cannot do is build a brand on absence and then act wounded when she dates someone who texts like an adult.
How to clock it in one week
Does he make a plan or does he float. Does he remember what you said on Tuesday. Does his effort rise when you pull away and fall when you lean in. That last one is the tell. Intermittent reward is for slot machines, not girlfriends.
If you say I like clarity and he calls you intense, he is not overwhelmed by your depth. He is allergic to accountability.
If he only becomes warm after midnight, that is not romance. That is availability in the hours when he cannot be seen wanting you in daylight.
If your friends know more about the state of it than he has actually said, you are in a situation, not a relationship. Situationships run on nonchalance. That is the fuel. Ambiguity keeps him free and you unpaid.
Wanting effort is not desperation
Desperation is begging a man to behave. Standards are leaving when he will not.
I still like a bit of chase. I like a spark. I do not need a spreadsheet of feelings on date two. I need a pulse. I need a man who can survive the humiliation of being keen.
The bar is not grand gestures. The bar is not disappearing for sport. Reply. Plan. Mean it. If that feels like too much performance, the audience you are protecting is you.
Nonchalant men can jog on. Take the mystery, the delayed texts, the prize rhetoric, the whole damp little act. Send them back to the podcast that taught them indifference was a jawline.
I will take chalant. Interest with a spine. Wanting me in the afternoon as well.
Watch this space. I am not done.