And then there’s the obvious: men as a whole are embarrassing. Times are hard. The bar is subterranean. The probability of a man humiliating you publicly, digitally, or spiritually is dangerously high. They will cheat, fumble, like a thirst trap, or worse, start a podcast. And when that happens, you go from “iconic” to “unfortunate” in record time.

And maybe that’s why so many of us are now allergic to saying “I have a boyfriend” out loud. We want to distance ourselves from that archetype as much as possible. The one who made a man her personality. The one who lost her plot. So we hide our relationships not just from others, but from the fear of becoming her.

Somewhere along the way, public love became a liability. It’s not that we’re ashamed of romance, we’re just painfully aware that men are statistically likely to humiliate you. And who wants to go from “it girl” to “poor girl” in a single news cycle?

And then there’s the quieter fear, not of being embarrassed, but of being absorbed. You spend years building a sense of self, becoming the main character of your own feed, and suddenly you’re someone’s girlfriend. The camera pans out. You’re no longer the story, you’re part of one.

You spend years building a sense of self, becoming the main character of your own feed, and suddenly you’re someone’s girlfriend. The camera pans out. You’re no longer the story, you’re part of one.

Maybe women are keeping things private because visibility has become a liability. Maybe it’s because public love has started to feel like a setup.