If I were a poet, I would start by quoting my favorite, the MVP, Walt Whitman. With that, I would begin this column by saying “I contain multitudes.”
To summarize what this means to me is that I have been a matchmaker, a romantic (hopelessly at that), a cynic and the occasional hater.
For your purposes, my multitudes are purely and distinctively about relationships, connection, friendship and love. Think of me as your Carrie Bradshaw, except hopefully funnier and more punchy (probably just as messy and interesting though).
Whatever love means to you doesn’t matter — I will always contextualize it. If you have been, at any point in your life, one of the above titles I’ve listed, you’ll probably agree with my context everytime. Because I’m new to you, these are my qualifications:
- I’m always right. I am actually never wrong. But, on the off chance I am, I apologize.
- I will call people out and snipe photos of PDA like crazy. If you are cuddling in a library there’s a good chance I have taken a photo, sorry not sorry.
- I read. Specifically, I enjoy John Green, and the depressing endings to all of his books.
All of this being said, I believe multitudes do not exist at Cornell, where the dating scene hurts more than the preliminary exams do. And let’s face it, some of you are spending more time thinking about the person coming to mind right now than your prelims. For all intents and purposes, you are posers, all of you.
If you don’t like the harsh truth, stop reading. If you can’t handle hearing what needs to be said, don’t take my advice. I take no shit, and I don’t dish it out either. On that note, let’s go into depth about the Cornell dating scene: the unfortunate arena where if you don’t end in a potential Cornell marriage and with a return-offer to a job, you’ve failed immensely. This arena is similar to a zoo — except instead of admiring the animals, you’re trapped inside with them.
The best love interests are like rare, exotic creatures: beautiful, unattainable and always surrounded by a crowd. The ones you can actually pet? They’re boring. Stale. No excitement. And then there are the ones that shouldn’t even be in the exhibit — the clingy, awkward and weird geckos of the dating scene — somehow lurking in places they absolutely don’t belong. By the time you’ve wandered through the whole place, exhausted and disappointed, you start to wonder why you paid the price of admission at all.
Exactly similar to your entrance to Cornell, you may be wondering: “Why am I here?” “How did they get a boyfriend (job, club admission, etc) before me?” And my personal favorite, “Why am I not good enough?” All of these questions are warranted, and you should be concerned that you’re falling behind. The options are limited. Actually, no, they’re not. The good options are limited. So, you might settle, and you might convince yourself you’re happy with that, and that’s okay. Let’s discuss why you will have to settle by laying out the options Cornell offers.
1. Fraternity Men
If you’re scoping out this option, there are a lot of layers to it, and I’m sorry to say that the outcome is most likely not what you want. The top of this pack is overhyped, overpriced and overly (sorry) mid. Yes, they can be attractive, but the system of ranking fraternities by attractiveness (at least at Cornell) is failing greatly. And if they are attractive, their personality ruins it. Knowing the audience that enjoys this crowd, you probably know they aren’t settling down with you, but you’ll take them to your date night anyway, and that’s okay. Just don’t be surprised when the “Taxi Cab Effect” happens and they suddenly find a really serious relationship in their senior year.
For those who are unaware, the Taxi Cab Effect for men refers to the idea that men don’t necessarily fall in love with “the one,” but rather with “the one who is there when they’re ready.” It’s like this: A man might date multiple incredible women throughout his life — ones who challenge him, excite him and maybe even feel like soulmates. But if he’s not in the right mindset to settle down, none of them stick. Then, one day, for whatever reason (age, career stability, emotional readiness or just exhaustion from the dating scene), his internal “available” light switches on. And who does he commit to? Not necessarily the best or most compatible partner he’s ever had, but instead, the one who happens to be in his life at that moment. So, if you had a great fraternity man for a total of three months (totaling enough time for a “situationship” and a date night and formal) then you can tell yourself it was that effect and maybe, just maybe, you were the one.
The middle-of-the-road fraternity man is actually probably your best bet. He exists in that rare sweet spot between unbearable and actually tolerable. Think of your favorite fraternities — the ones that greet you with open arms, where the guys have social lives outside of Greek Life and where the general vibe is more “we just like throwing parties” and less “this house is my personality.” These guys? They’re your best bet.
Are they a little awkward? Yes. Are they still technically frat guys? Also yes. But crucially, they’re not the kind of frat guy who thinks being in a frat is an achievement and one who reminds you of that. These guys are fixable, “boyfriend material,” and while you probably don’t want to have to tell a guy what to do, molding a man is easier than fixing them. And let’s remember ladies, at Cornell, beggars can’t be choosers.
2. Engineers
This one is for the men and the women — engineers, sorry to say, will only be describable as engineers. They’re overworked, overstretched and sometimes, weird. Dating an engineer at Cornell is a commitment in itself, and unless you’re one of them (or have an unshakable tolerance for problem set-induced mood swings), you may want to think twice before jumping in. That said, there are exceptions. Some engineers defy the stereotype — they’re chill, socially functional and somehow manage to balance their 20-credit course load with an actual personality. If you happen to find one of these rare gems, congratulations. But before you commit, here’s a quick Engineer Relationship Vetting Checklist:
Can they hold a conversation that doesn’t involve their major? If the only thing they can talk about is their prelims or why their major is so hard, brace yourselves, you’re dating a ChatBot that is eventually going to tell you they “don’t have time for a relationship.”
Do they attend every single one of their classes? If yes, they either have too much discipline (scary) or too much anxiety (even scarier). If the answer is no, they might actually be chill.
How many credits are they taking? Anything over 18 means they will cancel dates for a problem set. Anything under 14? A red flag. Something’s off.
What do they think of Hotelies? This is the ultimate test. If they flame them, run. They’ll never admit it, but that’s exactly how they feel about all humanities majors.
So, is dating an engineer a mistake? Not necessarily. But be warned: You will be competing for their attention with their classes, and they’ll probably win. But, if you stick it out, they might be rich.
3. The Gays
If a man goes to Lot 10 on Thursdays, run. That’s for the gays. There’s a good chance that if you've dated a couple guys at Cornell, at least one was gay. That’s all there is to say here — just beware. Also, if it makes you feel better, on either side of the spectrum the LGBTQIA+ community also struggles with love and relationships at Cornell, so everyone is cooked.
4. Everyone Else
Everyone else. The uncategorized masses. The wild cards. The people you’ll have random, unpredictable, sometimes painfully awkward encounters with — someone you briefly chat with in line at a café, an unexpected DM or that one person you keep running into at parties but can never quite figure out how you know them. These are the multitudes. And here’s the thing about multitudes: They don’t fit into neat categories. That’s why it’s so confusing. You’ll stumble into fleeting connections that make you rethink what you want. A random date on a Wednesday could turn into a six-month relationship — or it could just be a funny story you tell your friends the next day. It’s unpredictable, and honestly, that’s the fun of it. This category includes some of the best options such as (I will not be explaining these):
- The attractive people who do not rush a fraternity or sorority.
- The sneaky rich people. Or the ones who pull a really cool job and tell no one.
- The transfer students who know that Cornell is extreme because they were socialized at two universities.
- The CALS majors.
So, here we are. Dating at Cornell is a mess. Whether you’re into frat guys, engineers, the gay scene or just trying to make sense of everyone who falls in between, the truth remains: the options are limited, the expectations are sky-high and the relationships often feel like a game of “Will They, Won’t They” that never gets resolved. And honestly, that’s okay. But remember, if you’re looking for something real, you might have to face the truth that it won’t come packaged the way you want it. Love here is messy, unpredictable and often frustrating. It’s not always neat or ideal, but it’s real. So, if you’re ready for the ride, strap in and get ready for some cuts and bruises — but don’t expect me to hand you a bandaid. Doctor Love signing out, and remember: I don’t believe in bandaids. Because you’ve got to face the truth, not cover it up.
Doctor Love can be reached at love@cornellsun.com.
