At the heart of every unforgettable love story—the ones we can’t stop watching, quoting, or searching for in our own lives—is yearning: That aching, intoxicating desire to choose, chase, and want one specific person loudly, proudly, and unapologetically.
2025 was the Year of Yearning, at least on screen, and according to the likes of The Cut, Popsugar, and Vogue. Heated Rivalry is the latest (and perhaps most unflinching) example of our hunger for a slow burn filled with passionate hookups and high-stakes sexual tension. But it’s certainly not the first: Bridgerton resurrected the fantasy of old-school courtship when it aired in 2020, while The Summer I Turned Pretty, which ran from 2022 to 2025, turned many of us back into lovestruck teenagers who just want to be wanted.
Off-screen, however, there’s an irony that I find impossible to ignore: We complain about loneliness, yet refuse to show interest. Yearning—the simple act of letting yourself want—could easily solve that disconnection we describe. So why is everyone obsessed with talking about it but resistant to actually doing it?
Somewhere along the way, what was once romanticized in classics like The Notebook—effort, thoughtfulness, relentless pursuit—has been reframed as unattractive instead of brave. Desperate, not sweet. Enthusiasm became cringe. Vulnerability is an “ick.” Men who make heartfelt confessions or try “too hard” are ridiculed as “simps,” while women are taught (implicitly or otherwise) that withholding interest is what makes them more wanted.
In its place, we’ve rewarded nonchalance. No matter how much you actually care, you’re expected to act unbothered and unavailable, which is why so many of us wait hours to text back a person we really like. Or we vaguely hint at interest while carefully avoiding any mention of long-term investment. Instead of grand gestures and spontaneous displays of affection, dating has become a lose-lose competition of restraint: who replies slower, who reveals less, who seems harder to lock down. For men, that restraint conflicts with the gendered expectation to initiate and pursue; for women, it often means being rewarded for holding back and waiting.
So the question isn’t just why does nobody yearn anymore? It’s, When did showing interest become something we’re expected to hide—and be ashamed to show?
The surface-level explanation for this seems obvious enough: Yearning is risky. To appear earnest, eager, or uncool in exchange for a chance at something real is to give someone power over your heart, pride, and time. Anyone who’s been judged, rejected, or ghosted for doing so knows how punishing that vulnerability can be.
