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If there was ever a time to focus on yourself, that time is today. But also maybe tomorrow. Definitely not tonight though. You have plans. With someone who is, frankly, terrible at actually making plans, but that's their problem to fix.

Let's talk about intimacy. Not the kind that comes with a joint bank account and a golden retriever. We're talking about the modern kind: the kind that happens at 3am in a stranger's kitchen, where you're suddenly explaining your entire childhood and your fear of mediocrity to someone whose last name you'll never learn. The kind that makes you feel alive and mortified in equal measure.

Press play and daydream for a while, or move on towards the rest of the article

Ever cycled through every dating app, deleted them all, took a "break," went on three vacations to meet interesting people, only to reinstall them the second you got home? Same.

The old definition is dead. Here's the new one:

Intimacy noun; 2026; /ˈɪn.tɪ.mə.si/

The act of being completely seen by someone who will ghost you by Thursday. Spontaneous moments of vulnerability with people you met 47 minutes ago. The thing that happens when you bypass every defense system you spent years building because what's the worst that could happen? (Feelings. Feelings are always the worst that could happen.)

Have you ever wondered why we keep doing this? Here at NATB we don't keep secrets that can lead to even more good stories. The answer is simple: stolen moments in time. We all crave intimacy.

Here's what's wild: people are aggressively chalant now. Despite the "not looking for anything serious" bios and the collective commitment-phobia, people will orchestrate dates that feel like they were directed by Sofia Coppola: perfect lighting, accidental hand touches, a kiss that rewrites your entire understanding of human connection, and then never speak to you again.

And somehow? That's fine?

You get stolen kisses documented only in 0.5 photos. Nights where you're convinced you've met your soulmate, only to realize they were your soulmate for 6 hours max. Five-year relationships that taught you about boundaries. A one-month situationship that taught you what you actually want (or at least what you definitely don't want). Right person, wrong time. Wrong person, right time. Right person, right time, wrong city, incompatible star charts, one of you doesn't believe in therapy.

This sounds devastating. It's not. It's just 2026. This is how we do intimacy when we grew up watching The White Lotus but live on apps with 3-year waitlists.

We're all out here engineering connection through increasingly unhinged levels of vulnerability with increasingly uncommitted people. Asking ourselves: am I protecting my freedom or wasting my youth? The answer is yes. Both. Constantly.

Welcome to mixed signals as foreplay.

The internet keeps serving us mantras that sound selfish but are actually just... self-aware? They hit different at 2am:

Treat yourself. (Translation: you're allowed to want things)

Get what you need from the relationship. (Translation: so is everyone else)

Do it for the plot. (Translation: your life is a story, make it interesting)

Everyone wants a village, nobody wants to be a villager. (Translation: we're all selfish and that's fine probably?)

Situationships, dating, relationships, flings, "just seeing where it goes," "not putting a label on it," "exclusive but not official," whatever you want to call the thing you're doing. It's all just humans trying to connect. And as long as everyone involved has consented to the chaos? It's fine. Sometimes it's mind-blowing.

But here's the thing they all have in common: you need to know what you want first. And that's not selfish. That's actually the baseline requirement before you let anyone else in.

So yes: let people in. Feel things deliberately instead of accidentally. Feeling isn't a weakness. It's the whole point of having a nervous system. Fun is also a feeling. Whether you prefer it solo with excellent wine, or with someone whose profile you swiped right on during a moment of weakness, or love bombing as a shared delusion you're both actively participating in. All valid.

And it goes on and on until you find someone wearing the same Let's Match and Never Meet T-shirt who feels the same way you do. And who knows what happens then? Maybe another stolen moment. Maybe your actual match you were never meant to meet.

If it does, let us know.

To our resilient overspenders with perpetual good stories.

Ways to spend Valentine's Day when your relationship status is best described as "it's complicated but make it sexy":

IF YOU ARE SINGLE AND MORE OR LESS READY TO MINGLE

Book a spa where couples are banned or at least far enough away that you can focus on the masseur's hands instead of spiralling about everyone else's happiness.

IF YOU ARE CONSCIOUSLY SUBJECTING YOURSELF TO A SITUATIONSHIP

Keep it local, cozy, and completely under wraps. Classic dinner at home. Sexy lingerie. No public sightings, no questions to answer, just the two of you in your own delusional bubble pretending the outside world doesn't exist.

IF YOU ARE DATING TO FIND YOUR NON-ONE-NIGHT-SOULMATE

Wine tasting. The kind with a sommelier who takes it too seriously. Don't spit, swallow. Commit to the process and watch everyone get progressively hotter and everything get funnier. Likelihood of meeting your soulmate under these conditions increases by approximately 300%.

IF YOU ARE IN A SERIOUS(LY FUN) RELATIONSHIP

Surfing lessons in Madeira or jet off to a private island for an intimate dinner that ends with a round of We're Not Really Strangers. See how deep you can actually go when there's nowhere to hide. And prepare to be surprised.