Skip to content

Situationships and the End of Labels

How McGill Students Navigate Love Without Commitment

It’s a Friday night at Gerts. The music is loud, drinks are cheap, and the air is thick with the kind of excitement that only comes when midterms are finally over. Two friends sit across from each other, one gripping a pint of beer like it holds the answer to all of life’s problems. “So … are you guys, like, together?” one of them asks. A beat of silence follows, then a deep inhale — the kind that signals the arrival of a carefully worded, noncommittal response:

“I mean … we hang out a lot. We text every day. We’ve met each other’s friends. But I wouldn’t say we’re dating.”

What does that even mean? In 2025, defining a relationship isn’t as simple as it used to be — especially among university students. Instead, more and more students are finding themselves in “situationships” — romantic connections that don’t quite fit into a traditional relationship but aren’t casual enough to be considered nothing. This in-between state, where expectations are unclear and labels are avoided, has become a defining feature of Gen Z’s dating culture.

But is this shift simply a reflection of changing values, or are students becoming emotionally exhausted by contemporary life’s constant uncertainty?

What is a situationship?

The word itself is a modern invention, but the concept is nothing new. A situationship is essentially a romantic or sexual relationship that lacks clear labels, expectations, or commitments. It exists in the grey area between friendship and official partnership — something that feels like a relationship, but doesn’t come with the same level of commitment. Unlike the classic “talking stage,” which is supposed to progress into something more, situationships can stretch on indefinitely, existing in a state of perpetual emotional limbo.

Pop culture has played a major role in normalizing this dating trend. Songs by artists like Olivia Rodrigo, SZA, and Taylor Swift capture the frustrations of undefined relationships, while TikTok trends embrace “It’s Not That Deep” culture, where emotional detachment is framed as empowering. Meanwhile, dating apps like Hinge and Tinder have made it easier than ever to keep swiping for the next best option, reinforcing the idea that commitment is unnecessary when new people are always within reach. As a result, situationships have become less of an anomaly and more of an expected reality in university dating culture.

Why are situationships so common at McGill?

For many students, the lack of clear labels isn’t necessarily a bad thing — it’s a way to maintain flexibility without feeling tied down. University is a time of intense academic and personal growth, and committing to a relationship can feel like an added pressure rather than a source of support. Some students view relationships as a distraction, something that might interfere with their studies, social lives, or post-graduation plans. Others worry that defining a relationship too early could ruin the natural flow of things, leading them to keep things ambiguous for as long as possible.

Another major factor is hookup culture and the rise of casual dating. While McGill isn’t as party-driven as some other universities, the “no-strings-attached” attitude still influences how students approach romance. The convenience of dating apps makes it easy to meet people, but it also fosters a paradox of choice — why settle down when there are always more options? Ghosting, slow fades, and mixed signals have become common, reinforcing a culture where uncertainty is the norm.

But while situationships offer freedom and flexibility, they can also leave people feeling emotionally drained. Some students, however, say they work — as long as both people know what to expect. One student explained that they were currently in a situationship, describing how it allowed them to balance connection and independence.

“We’ve been seeing each other on and off for a few months. It’s nice because I don’t have time for a relationship but still crave intimacy and connection. It works because we have the same expectations for our situation, so we are able to enjoy each other’s presence while knowing that there’s no commitment — for now.”

Still, not everyone is convinced that situationships are worth the trouble. For some, they’re just a form of self-inflicted heartbreak waiting to happen.

“I’m in a situationship right now,” one student shared. “I know we like each other, but every time I bring up defining things, they get weird about it. So I just pretend I don’t care, but honestly, it sucks.”

The emotional toll: is this actually what students want?

At first glance, situationships might seem like an easy, low-risk alternative to traditional relationships. But many students admit that the lack of commitment creates more stress than it relieves. One student reflected on their personal experience, saying:

“My experience with situationships has been one of precarity. I find that they never end well. You go into them knowing that you might get hurt, but take the risk anyway, in the hopes that maybe it might become something more serious.”

Psychologists have found that ambiguity in relationships can lead to increased anxiety, as people are left constantly second-guessing where they stand. The fear of seeming “too needy” or “too intense” prevents many students from expressing their true feelings, resulting in a dynamic where no one is fully honest, but everyone is emotionally invested.

This emotional limbo can be exhausting. Students in situationships often act like they’re in relationships. They go on dates, text constantly, and rely on each other for emotional support — but they don’t receive the security that comes with commitment. This can lead to confusion, jealousy, and even heartbreak; especially when one person inevitably wants more than the other is willing to give. Some students describe it as a slow, inevitable disappointment, where they try to convince themselves they’re okay with casual dating, only to realize too late that they wanted something more.

One student put it more bluntly: “Don’t do them. Unless you’re super bored and heartbroken.”

The future of love at McGill: a shift back to relationships?

Despite the prevalence of situationships, there are signs that Gen Z is slowly moving back toward more serious relationships. Studies show that, following the pandemic, young people are tired of casual flings, with many craving deeper emotional connections. The exhaustion of constantly navigating undefined relationships has led some students to reject hookup culture in favor of something more meaningful.

At McGill, this shift is visible in the growing frustration that students express with situationships. Some are actively choosing to avoid them altogether, prioritizing emotional clarity over fleeting excitement. Others are still engaging in them, but with a critical awareness of their limitations. “I used to think situationships were fun,” a student admitted. “Now, I just think they’re a waste of time. If someone isn’t sure about me, I don’t want to waste my energy trying to convince them.”

So, is the end of labels here to stay, or is it just a phase? Maybe the reality is somewhere in between. Love isn’t disappearing — it’s just being rewritten. The way McGill students approach dating today might be different from previous generations, but at the core of it all, people still want the same things: connection, honesty, and the certainty that they matter to someone else.