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“Do you only date people from your own background?” my friend asked. I’d like to think the answer to that question is no. My partners have all been radically different from each other — in personality and appearance — and I’ve never been accused of having a “type,” but one thing I had never really thought about was that most of my partners so far have been white.

I’m not alone in my apparent habits. OKCupid data from 2009 to 2014 shows that the vast majority of members had either a preference or indifference towards dating someone from their own race. However, the data also shows us something a little bit nastier: 82 percent of heterosexual non-Black men said that they weren’t interested in being matched with Black women, and Asian and Black men were significantly less popular among heterosexual female users. This may be information from only one website, and for a set number of years, but it is indicative of wider trends in the way we approach our relationships.

It’s not terribly surprising that racism seeps into all aspects of our society, including our romance, but you might be wondering why your preferences are a big deal. Discriminating against someone in a job interview most likely has a larger impact on them than deciding not to ask them to dinner (also, if you aren’t interested in dating someone because of their race, I’m willing to bet that person isn’t all that interested in getting a meal with you anyway). However, we can’t say that racial preferences in romance have no effect whatsoever. In her article for Vice magazine about the experience of being a Black woman on Tinder, Eternity Martis talks about the impact that racism has on a user’s self esteem. Being hypersexualized, tokenized and fetishized from all angles when looking for a relationship understandably takes a toll on one’s feelings of self worth.

Martis is not alone in her experiences, which are unfortunately not uncommon. This begs the question: if our preferences are not random, and are instead part of larger societal trends, where do they come from? Some explanations might include evolutionary psychology, but if humans are programmed to be attracted to physical prowess and symmetry, why should this exclude People of Colour? Another explanation might be that we are interested in people from our own racial background, but if this was the case then we wouldn’t see specific discriminatory trends in dating patterns.

Instead the answer is exactly what you would expect: ubiquitous White supremacist beauty standards. We can see the ways this manifests in media representation. How often do we see Asian men as romantic leads in Hollywood blockbusters? On television shows, how often are Black women described as “the one”? When you can count the number of interracial couples in contemporary media on one hand, it starts to make sense why racism might make its way into our dating lives.

At this point you may be feeling insecure about your preference for brunettes, or wondering if you have been fetishizing that tall guy you see in the student center based on his height. Don’t fret. Having preferences is not the same thing as discriminatory dating. I’m not proposing that we should all date people we aren’t attracted to in order to prove a point, nor am I demanding that you change something you may have no control over such as what features you are attracted to. People in interracial relationships are not necessarily more enlightened than the rest of us, and people who date those from their own backgrounds are not necessarily more racist. What I’m asking instead is for us to take a step back, and look at our race-based preferences critically. Let’s demand better representation in our media, expect respectful interactions on dating websites, and think twice before we dismiss someone as “not our type.”

Photo Credit: AP Photo/Tsering Topgyal

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Does it seem like everyone is getting into relationships these days? You may be witnessing the social phenomenon referred to as “cuffing season.”  SHEC is here to answer questions you never thought to ask.

What in the world is cuffing season?

“Cuffing” describes the supposed biological urge to find romantic or sexual partners (or both) when the autumn season commences. The intention is to “cuff” a companion to stay with throughout the upcoming winter months.

Is it real?

On its face, the theory does seem reasonable — as days get shorter and leaves begin to fall, the autumn season can put a damper on the fun and carelessness of summertime. Some may feel lonely on increasingly dark nights and seek the company of a special someone. Why wouldn’t we seek out the company and closeness of others with the impending frigidity of a Canadian winter? In fact, a study in the journal Emotion published in 2011 purported that humans associated colder temperatures with increased loneliness and solitude. Nonetheless, cuffing season remains to be verified as a real, scientifically based theory.

What biological reasons can explain the phenomenon of cuffing season?

It can likely be explained from an evolutionary perspective. Since the term “cuffing season” does not sound very scientific, and no research has been done on the subject, I can only invent an argument to explain it. For example, it would surely be advantageous for a primate to share body heat with a partner in the cold fall and winter months.

Those are interesting physiological theories. Are there any possible strategic explanations?

Yes, certainly. A relationship may facilitate the acquisition of resources, mainly food that the couple can share. Also, going on romantic dates might mitigate the effects of the oncoming Seasonal Affective Disorder that results from the bad weather.

But really, how healthy are relationships, with two people drawn together by the cold?

I would not jump to the conclusion that these relationships are necessarily unhealthy. Every relationship has a unique starting point or a trigger, some more romantic and perhaps warmer than others. However, to the individuals who are feeling the desire for some warm romantic cuddles, I would proceed with caution. Be honest — first to yourself and then to your potential cuff mate — about what you want out of this relationship. Perhaps a good test to see if you’ve fallen into the cuffing trap is to ask yourself if you would want the same relationship in the summer. Once successfully cuffed, make sure to check in with your partner every so often to ensure everyone is still on the same blanket, especially as the days get warmer. A last word of advice for those feeling colder and lonelier as the days get longer and darker: friends can offer some lovely cuddling benefits too, without the risk of heartbreak!

Photo Credit: Arno Burgi/Getty Images

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By: Beth Barr

One of my favourite family stories is how my grandparents met. They, literally, bumped heads over a microscope during undergraduate biology in the 1950s. Their story, although beautiful, is far too romantic and spontaneous for my over-stimulated brain. So I beg the question: where do we meet men and women to date?

It would seem that app developers around the world have leapt to our rescue. Why not put dating where we keep our music, schedules, alarm clocks, games, and light reading? For a generation dependent on cell phones for daily function and comfort, it only makes sense to tie dating into our virtual world. Right in your pocket, people across campus are using apps to “see” multiple people, changing the very nature of the dating game. Hook-up apps aside, the expediency of the dating app world puts hundreds of other people at the mercy of your swiping thumb — people you may have never interacted with otherwise.

It is a beautiful thing – opening your horizons and meeting new people can never be thought of in a negative way. But when we look at the quality of these interactions, what do we find? Quick and easy hook-ups are great; but how do you really get to know someone through a screen? What happened to the face- to-face struggles of dating and conveying who you are in the span of a date? When did our generation decide that the ease of detachedly sitting on the other end of a phone or computer was worth more than making a long-lasting, quality connection?

Let’s address an interesting question: can we, as intelligent young adults, successfully make the transition from a semi-detached virtual connection to an in-person one? How would we go about doing this? Might we chuck our phones out the window and run to the person with whom we’ve been sharing details of our lives? What if that person isn’t who they made themselves out to be? We’ve all heard of “Catfishing” over the Internet— heck, there are entire TV series on this topic.

Can we, as today’s youth, be comfortable and unashamed about using these apps? Most importantly, can we make these connections strong enough to sustain a new generation? Or will the next generation be the product of divorced/separated parents, whose love story is a lie conjured from the embarrassment of meeting on Tinder?

Okay, fine, maybe I am exaggerating in my anti-Tinder tirade. Perhaps these so-called hook-up platforms are nothing more than a silly game people play in their spare time. Maybe Tinder and similar mobile apps could be a platform for love at first sight? A medium that could facilitate the happy relationships and marriages of couples that were just meant to be? I am doubtful, but cannot say for sure. There are some people who dismiss apps like Tinder and other dating sites like OkCupid as not viable options for real relationships and we have all heard online dating horror stories, but maybe, there is a possibility to find love in a hopeless place.

Dating apps have been around for a while but they’ve become increasingly popular on university campuses. Only time will tell whether our generation will be the one of simple, spontaneous love, or just love for things that are overly simple and spontaneous.

By: Olivia Monardo

Finding a significant other these days can be difficult, especially with the added pressure of maintaining a solid social media presence on multiple platforms. But what if I told you that there is an app that can take all these troubles away? Introducing Luxy, the dating app for only the snobbiest, most self-indulgent people. Luxy incorporates aspects of Instagram, Facebook, and even Twitter into one big mobile dating service that lets people pick their most desired matches based on the three best selfies they choose to display. The only catch? You have to be rich to use it. Along with providing information on your favourite designer brands, Luxy lets you know the net worth of each one of your matches—which is obviously what truly matters when choosing a mate.

The CEO of Luxy, whoever he is, remains anonymous due to the fact that he fears the criticisms that may come along with this app. But who would criticize such a forward-thinking app? It’s not like Luxy bases its matches on pure aesthetic, or decides a person’s worth based on the brands they choose or the ritzy sports they play. No, Luxy prides itself on maintaining a reliable, solid network of all the richest people within a 100-kilometer radius, ensuring that none of these rich people should be forced to flirt among the general population.

Luxy allows each of its users three rounds of people choosing per day. Each round consists of 10 profiles; those of which get accepted appear in a list that does nothing more than remind you how lonely you truly are. In order to message one of these obviously elite people, they must first accept you in return, and the chances of that are slim to none. Although Luxy is an app with very few problems, it doesn’t take into account the ego of the rich people who use it. Not only do they want everyone to know how great they are, they want to know how great everyone else is too, which often leaves them disappointed, bored, and impatiently waiting to play their next round.

Tobi Abdul
Staff Reporter

I'm not the kind of person who particularly enjoys navigating my way through sweaty crowds in order to have a conversation consisting of yelling into each other's ears, struggling to be heard over the music. Despite this, it seems that the majority of my mating rituals, as a semi-new lesbian, have been reduced to exactly this. Since realizing that women are more my speed, I've had to sacrifice the cute romantic hypotheticals that never seemed too impossible in the "straight" world.

I bump into someone at the grocery store and proceed to have a conversation about our favourite snacks. Is she smiling at me because she likes me or because she thinks she's made a new friend? "Yeah, I'm really into baking. I bake for my boyfriend all the time." And there it is.

Flirting becomes this tentative game of "Is She, Isn't She?" where I try to guess a girl's sexuality by these unquantifiable characteristics that allows one to give off a gay "vibe". Chance encounters become set-ups and profile stalking, while spontaneity becomes uncertainty.

You may not have a funny story to tell your kids about how you met and you may have to risk a lot of "sorry, I'm not gay" before you hear "sure, I'd love to go out sometime" but this isn't to say that the girl you bump into in the grocery store won't bat for your team or that you should be wary canadian online pharmacy of approaching a girl for fear that she isn't into girls. But in my opinion, dating as a lesbian is a lot harder than dating as a heterosexual.

Tired of trying to craft the perfect message on PlentyOfFish or OKCupid, I sought out this year to meet someone in the real world, outside of sweaty nightclubs. It was then that I realized I had absolutely zero queer friends and that if I was going to meet any romantic interests on campus, I had to make some queer or queer-friendly friends. The first place I thought to start was McMaster Queer Students Community Center, located on the 2nd floor of the Student Center. My advice to all you newly out queer folk is to get involved with the QSCC. They have a lot of events, are very welcoming and you can meet lots of new queer friends and allies. Their annual Pride Week, which is happening this year on Nov. 4-8, is a great way to meet other people. Go out to the drag show and perform, or sing along to the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Once you've found your new friends, you could ask them to set you up. Just be wary of the traps that can happen if your friends are straight. My friends mean well, but once in a while I get the "oh my goodness, you two would totally hit it off" while talking about a girl that I have nothing in common with. Sometimes friends fail to remember that liking the same sex doesn't make you a match.

For the shy and socially awkward, online dating might actually be your preferred source of dating. It gives you a chance to construct the perfect message, backspacing and proofreading until you have the perfect amount of nonchalant while still taking an interest. PlentyOfFish and OKCupid are the two biggest dating sites out there for our age group.

If all else fails, try a LGBT* club/bar, or one that hosts lesbian nights. It may not be an ideal place to meet someone and make genuine connections but there's something comforting about knowing that the majority of people with you, are gay too.

Like any relationship, finding someone takes patience and confidence. Join things that interest you and maybe along the way, you'll find the right someone. It may be slightly harder, but it's not impossible. Try not to give up on those romantic ideas that you may have. The girl next door may be bisexual, that girl at the coffee shop may have a girlfriend, and the girl in your class may be lesbian and interested, but the most important thing is to put yourself out there.

Julia Busatto
The Silhouette

The new academic year allows for plenty of opportunity to meet new people. And the truth is, as the school year moves into full swing, so does our libido. This conscious state of searching for sex, to be frank, is acceptable. It is our natural tendency to look for those who could be future sexual partners.

However, our approach to this is often questionable.

“Are they hot?” is the most common question I hear my friends, peers, and classmates ask before they encounter someone whom they could be interested in. Often my housemates will be talking about their boyfriend’s friends, or the neighbors, or guys who the rest of us are unfamiliar with, and someone will utter those three dangerous words.

It may seem like a reasonable question, and in many ways it is. Our first initial impression of someone stems from his or her appearance. We decide based on that impression how we will proceed with that person. But this question also has flaws, issues, and holes.

First and foremost, our friends’ views on who we find good-looking are not necessarily in line with our own.

Many times others have questioned the men I’ve drooled over (and for a few, I can’t say I blame them). The point being, you may think someone is absolutely gorgeous but your friends think you’ve lost your mind. They don’t like the facial hair, or the hockey flow, or the bridge of her nose. I’ve heard girls say, “there’s just something about his face that turns me off”, and guys “she’s like a 6, decent looking, I’d go for that”.

Obviously there are basic characteristics that make someone good looking, but a lot of attraction is based on one’s interpretation of beauty. By asking your friends if someone is hot prior to meeting them, you are unknowingly letting their opinions influence your perception of that person.

A second problem with this hotness meter: “the deceiver”.  You know the really good-looking person with the terribly high-pitched voice, or that guy you see lifting at the gym who can’t seem to grasp basic addition.

Personality types are crucial to how attractive someone is and can be. “Looks aren’t everything” is a cliché for a reason. Generally speaking, if someone is funny, confident, and outgoing you may be attracted to him or her regardless of his or her physical appearance. Even those with attractive possessions, hobbies and personas can draw you in more than someone who’s considered good-looking. How one carries themselves plays a giant role in the laws of attraction.

So the next time someone asks you to paint a picture of someone they are about to meet, consider telling them about who that person actually is. Because even having the right lighting and angle on a Facebook picture can’t change a person’s personality.

Being an available bachelor or bachelorette in university is a generally positive experience. You can mix and mingle whenever you want, friends set you up on charming blind dates, you don't need to shave your legs very often, and you can save money by only investing in a single bed.

Single life is good. You feel like George Clooney and get to do whatever and whoever you want. But mingling does have a drawback: a constant nagging cycle of dating. Sure, dating does help you meet people. But, if it doesn't lead to finding that "special someone", it can drive you insane when you don't know how to get out of an evening with that weird guy your sister's boyfriend's mom found for you at the YMCA.

It's great to keep your options open, but when you're uninterested, how do you end a date without hurting someone's feelings?

Dating can be fun and beneficial when it comes to meeting new people and developing relationships, but every now and again, a break is needed. Try these strategies to weasel out of your next unwanted encounter, and if all else fails, simply just act like a crazy person. I guarantee, you will not be the one ending that date.

Cassandra Jeffery

Assistant Insideout Editor

 

As adults in our university careers, our relationships with a significant other evolve into a more delicate and emotionally fragile debacle.

We mature from our roots as innocent children who find little love notes endearing into adults who seek companionship in more than interest in Pokemon and a shared love for recess.

But as we move into adulthood, intimate relationships now involve the incorporation of multiple facets of two individuals – often including core values of religion and culture.

For many couples, the questions of how to deal with the complexities of religion, culture and race in the context of a relationship is daunting. Is it possible for ideologies grounded in culture and religion to interconnect?

Canada, for all its stereotypes of hockey and winter, is diverse as any place in the world. Still, the stigma of interracial and interfaith relationships is hard to avoid even in our diverse, open society.

Derek and Mary Handley have been married for over 50 years. They originally met in Mexico, when Mary, a school teacher of Chinese and Mexican descent, provided Derek with directions while he was on vacation from Germany. They were married in 1961, and despite the stingier time period, skin colour was never an issue for the couple of their families.

“For a relationship to endure it means working the difficulties out if you have any. It has nothing to do with race... it’s like any other two human beings that get married,” says Mary.

“People go by personality so they don’t look so much at [the fact] that they’re of a different race...it has to click, there has to be something there, and so you look beyond race, and even religion,” says Derek, suggesting that he and his wife “were extremely open-minded for the time period and have created a lasting marriage based on common interests and personalities, not on skin colour.”

Although interfaith and interracial dating is less taboo then it was during the Handley marriage, the notion still sparks controversy and attention. Ankita Dubey, a fourth-year McMaster psychology student and Joti Dhillon, a Mohawk business graduate, have been in an interfaith relationship for over a year.

Dubey is Hindu and Joti is Sikh, both have similar Indian cultural traditions yet follow two vastly different religions. From the beginning, the couple explains that there were a lot of barriers and as the relationship grew to a more serious level, the problems only initially worsened. One of the biggest hindrances to their relationship was the secrecy of the relationship between Dhillon and his family.

With an underlying pressure to date a women from within the Sikh religion, Dhillon felt as though his family would not accept Dubey; however, as recently discovered, it seems Dhillon’s family wants only for him to be happy, even if that’s with someone of a different faith.

“We wouldn’t be able to go to that next step,” Dhillon says about overcoming the would-be barrier of family acceptance. Both insist that with this barrier overcome, they are much more emotionally and mentally present in this relationship

“I don’t think it’s important to identify with one label of a religion, it’s more important to get the values out of the religion,” says Dubey, noting that for an interfaith relationship to work at its best, open-mindedness and incorporating elements of each others’ faiths is essential. “we’ll always be dealing with interfaith issues, but it gives us something to explore.”

For Health Science students Emma Mauti and Paul Cheon, religious and cultural barriers are not an issue. Mauti is of Italian and German descent, though she comes from a typically Canadian family without any Italian or German traditions, while Cheon spent the first 10 years of his life in South Korea before coming to Canada with his family.

Both Mauti and Cheon say, however, that cultural barriers were never an issue. “It really enriches you and it’s always nice to learn about something new that I otherwise wouldn’t have known,” says Mauti.

“I want to see things from another perspective,” says Choi. Among those things is the way Mauti and Cheon have been able to explore issues of racism through their experiences.

“People don’t physically have to show it, but we know that we get some sort of attention when we go out in the streets and hold hands,” says Cheon.

For Mauti and Cheon, accepting each other’s culture isn’t nearly as big an issue as society’s acceptance of them as a couple. Mauti recalls a friend asking to see a picture of her boyfriend, and showing immediate surprise when seeing he wasn’t white. Mauti and Cheon have come to accept the fact that they might always have to fight barriers in terms of racial prejudices, however, they wish to instil a notion of genuine acceptance in which a relationship similar to theirs will be represented in society the same way as a standardized same-race relationship.

In our society, we’re often thrown off when couples deviate from the traditions and show off a public interfaith or interracial relationship. Even in Canada’s diverse cultural landscape, second glances are still cast toward couples that aren’t typically traditional.

Nicole Duquette, Interfaith Coordinator for Diversity Services at McMaster, says the success of interfaith relationships depend on communication and open-mindedness.

“People need to know that they don’t have to sacrifice their own beliefs in order to appreciate their partners.”

We must acknowledge that diversity within culture and religion truly enriches our society as it creates awareness and acceptance. Even if we are not in an interfaith or interracial relationship, we cultivate relationships with diverse individuals everyday—from co-workers to friends we are immersing ourselves in culture in the hopes that one day we’ll all become colour blind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I’ve been riding solo for most of my dating life. It might be because when I invite someone over to watch Netflix, I actually really want to watch the movie. Or it could be my insistence on being the little spoon (read: men everywhere, it’s more comfortable. Trust me). But it most likely has to do with my inability to articulate, “I like you” in a scenario that doesn’t end with one party fleeing the scene.

The first two reasons is the kind of reflexive defense I mount when my aunt casually drops the “Why are you single?” bomb at a family dinner. Sometimes it’s subtler (“I feel bad for you. Everyone else is seeing someone!”), but the result is always a tone of pity, followed by a half-hearted attempt at “Well being single is better anyway!”

It’s increasingly common to respond to questions about being single with answers that imply a playful and knowing sense of not giving a damn. These jokes are rooted in the belief that being alone is better as it frees us from the constraints of proper behaviour. In a twisted turn, the single life is glamourized and held up as the gold standard for unadulterated fun.

A younger and envious version of myself would rant about why you shouldn’t probe into people’s love lives in the first place, especially those who are obviously unattached. However, that response is rooted in my insecurities, and dating is such a huge part in the lives of twenty-year-olds, that it’d be silly to expect that I won’t have to talk about it. Besides, what else is my aunt going to ask me? What I’m planning on doing after graduation? (I changed my mind, I will tell her everything about my love life).

No, what I’m here to rant about is actually the “Well being single is better anyway!” part of the conversation. The number of times I’ve read “7 ways to enjoy the single life” (or its variations: “8 reasons why you don’t need a man”, “6 tips on taking advantage of having no significant other”) is staggering. Unfortunately, the insecure part of myself insists on clicking on these “articles” (and I use that word as loosely as one would associate “actor” with Charlie Sheen), which always leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

“You learn more about yourself when you’re single!” “You don’t have to share your food!” Wow, what wonderful insights! Now let me redirect you to “5 best things about dating,” including “You learn so much about yourself,” and “You have someone to share your food with!”

These articles exist to prop up the image of the fun seeking IDGAF bachelor(ette). They are ineffective because trying to value one relationship status over another is neither here nor there.

There’s inherent value in being unattached. There’s also inherent value in relationships. And you don’t need a listicle on Upworthy to tell you that.

And when we spend time forcefully idealizing this single life, please keep in mind that it is objectively not good for your health if you spend consecutive days lying on your bed watching Netflix and eating a tub of ice cream. By laughing with these stereotypical portrayals of what single people do, we’re encouraging this kind of behavior. If you’re going to indulge in these pleasures, as I do, at least be self-aware. I know my future 300-pound self is going to look back on my binge-eating single nights and say, “What the hell is wrong with you, you pig faced dweeb?”

The problem isn’t that you’re single. It’s that you are insecure about being single. A few years ago, I wrote an article about celebrating Valentine’s Day as a single pringle. I talked about the importance of showing your love for your family and friends. At the time, I was too self-involved to realize, “Hey, maybe not every day has to be applicable to me.” Of all 365 days of the year, is Valentine’s Day the day I must insist on commemorating camaraderie and companionship? Because you know what? There’s a day to celebrate your mother, father, and siblings. There’s also a day to celebrate your friends (Friendship Day is on August 7th).

If you’re single, don’t be ashamed of it. You don’t need to make self-deprecating jokes about not having somebody. There’s nothing wrong or funny about being a lone cat lady if that’s who you want to be. Besides, you’d be drowning in pussy.

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