Dateless in Denver: Flowers Are Nice, Boys – but How About a Vote?

At the start of the summer, in anticipation of all those hot times ahead, we shared a string of articles about dating in Denver, including a cover piece that explored “Why Dating in Denver Is a Dumpster Fire.” Then, because misery loves company, we introduced “Dateless in Denver,” a series of reader essays on the realities of dating in Denver – the good, the bad and the ugly – that included last week’s confession from Anonymous.

This week’s essay takes a turn to the practical…and political.

I met Kumar a month ago on Hinge. I was looking for biking company, and he was looking for a long-term partner. His Hinge profile was mostly photos of him mountain biking and skiing, and in one of the snaps he was even rocking some face glitter. I swiped right.

On our first date, we went on a hike. When we were done hiking, Kumar asked if he could cook dinner for me. He then added that he would totally understand if I was not comfortable coming into his house on a first date. I decided I was. On our second date, he fixed my road bike in a non-condescending way (harder than it sounds); on our third date, we talked openly about sex, which I had never done before with a romantic partner. I enjoyed his warmth and intellect, and I loved that he treated me like an equal without needing to be asked. I predicted to my mom I was going to fall in love with him.

In my prior relationships I have learned about partners slowly – understanding their values through observations about how they treat others. However, since Kumar and I had started seeing each other in October, it seemed inevitable this gradual-get-to-know-you strategy was going to be challenged by the polarizing atmosphere surrounding the election.

I am not political the way that my friends who live in Washington, D.C., are. The glamour of national politics often feels callous in contrast to the impact policies have on my rural Colorado hometown. However, I am part of the 70 percent of Gen-Z (people born after 1997) who believe their lives need to make a difference in this world. Moreover, I am conscious that most of my generation gets their news from social media, so the morning after the 2024 presidential election, I reposted Bernie Sanders’s condemnation of how the Democratic Party had “abandoned the working class” on my Instagram story.

What I did not consider, until I began getting responses, was that Kumar followed me on Instagram. Then I saw his profile icon pop up on the list of people who had viewed my story. However, he had not liked or otherwise replied to the story.

I was concerned that Kumar’s lack of response was because of a divergence in worldview that I had not picked up on during our early dates. I was so anxious about this that I texted him, noting how complicated it was to try to date during a polarizing election. I went on to explain the larger narrative behind my critique of the Democratic Party.

He wrote a thoughtful text reply:

“I’m not just saying this to be more agreeable or try to relate to you more because I like you so much and I want things to work out well; I’m being completely honest – the way you describe your feelings here makes me think that we really are closely aligned in this space.”

I felt a tug on my heart that reminded me of overhearing my high school boyfriend describe me to his teammates as a “thoughtful writer.”

I want to understand the world through your eyes, I thought. I am so glad there are men who interact with the world in a way I could fall in love with.

Later that night, I called my mom and told her about my text exchange with Kumar – and how his mindful political commentary had made me like him even more than before.

“Would you have ended things with him if he voted differently than you?” she asked.

I hesitated, reflecting on my dating history.

In high school, I had dated a boy who probably considered himself Republican. This boy’s father was a fiscally-conservative-work-your-way-up-man who admired John McCain, and this boy shared a few of his father’s political perspectives. But he had increasingly embraced Democratic policies as our relationship progressed. Plus, I was more politically conscious now than in high school.

“I would have broken up with Kumar if he voted for Donald Trump,” I told my mom firmly.

“What about a different vote on state propositions?” My mother, part of a generation raised on political compromise, was always curious about how my twin brother and I approached politics and dating.

I thought about the question for a moment. Voting against abortion rights and LGBTQIA+ rights on a state ballot was a deal breaker for me in a relationship. I could also see a scenario where I broke up with someone because of their reasons for voting for a proposition or person.

I know there are people – my parents included – who feel breaking it off with a romantic partner over a vote or opinion is uncalled for. My mom and my dad grew up with different financial situations and have some differing ideologies; however, they have always been able to keep dinner-table conversations civil and emphasize community involvement as a shared political value. They both consider members of my generation dramatic in their unwillingness to date partners with different political views.

Maybe one day if I share kids and a bank account with a partner, I will feel like my parents. But right now, I find politics too hurtful to imagine falling in love across the political aisle, or even struggling with some of the political views of men in the Democratic Party.

The morning after the election I was in a coffee shop and heard a young woman getting angry with her boyfriend for disagreeing with the seriousness of Kamala Harris losing the election. “How can you say it will not matter in my life?” she asked him angrily.

The young man responded by saying his girlfriend should not get so worked up about the election results because it was “just politics” – which scared me. I worry that he, like many, has become desensitized to our nation’s ongoing political invasion of women’s personal lives.

As a future lawyer, I generally stay away from personal arguments and try to use logic to find common ground. But this election has made me wonder if my preference for calm logic is part of what has created an environment where the young man in the coffee shop felt justified in summing up Trump’s election as “just politics.” Trump commonly puts down the female sex, was an integral political figure in overturning the Roe v. Wade precedent, and has been taped bragging about sexual assault. Logic tells me that none of that is okay – yet logic tells this young man this is all “just politics.”

So I am going to try something new. I am going to try to tell the people in my life the personal impact their votes have on me, and I hope they will do the same in return. I am going to do this so those who disagree with me know how this disagreement hurts me, and those who would dismiss my hurt as “just politics” are forced to confront the impact of their dismissal.

One of the issues that hurt me in the 2024 president election was that Trump, a man found liable of sexual abuse, was even allowed on a U.S. presidential ticket, let alone able to triumph in the election. While I disagree with the majority of what Nikki Haley and Ron DeSantis stand for, I still find it astounding that Republicans did not choose one of them as the nominee on the grounds of sexual abuse alone.

I was sexually assaulted in college, and I have, until now, stayed out of discussions on this issue because I was concerned my emotion might overtake reasoned judgment. But watching my female friends set relationship boundaries with male partners because of this election has made me reconsider this careful neutrality. The idea that there is a reasonable disagreement over whether someone found liable for sexual abuse can be president is absurd to me, and it is deeply jarring to act as if this is political in the same way the housing market is political. This is not an issue that can be triaged with multiple political approaches. There is only one appropriate approach: to not elect Donald Trump president of the most powerful country in the world.

Electing Trump president sends a message that sexual abuse is not a deal breaker for the most important position one can have in America. If it is not a deal breaker for being the President of the United States, then what is it a deal breaker for?

I truly want to live in a country where I can tell my mom I would date someone with different political views from mine. But I cannot fathom why I should have to set aside my sexual assault experience to do so.

I will not walk through every issue I have a personal connection to, but I do hope you will ask the people, particularly women, in your life about how your vote impacts them. Politics are, at their core, about people, and one’s partner is very much one of those people.

I know it is of the utmost importance to me that a partner advocates for me, just as I will always do for them. So I want a partner who votes for fertility rights and abortion rights and understands how unfair it is that these issues are even on the ballot. I want a partner who believes an individual found liable of sexual abuse is not fit for office. I want a partner who does not make excuses for speaking in derogatory language about women. I want a partner who thinks about issues that could impact families, because someday we may have children together. I want a partner who thinks about others when he votes because I am an Other and because it is the right thing to do.

I do not know yet if Kumar will be my person, but I do know that the thoughtful dialogue he offered about the election made me think he could be someone I fall in love with. I do know that love is predicated on respect, and the way he included my position as a woman in his political views made me feel respected.

I know this election has been confusing for so many Americans, partially because it has forced the deeply personal nature of politics into the spotlight. I know that the couple I saw in the coffee shop is not the only relationship facing a romantic fallout post-election, and it breaks my heart. I know there are men who bring home flowers every Monday for their girlfriends, and I know some of these men voted for Trump. I know there are men who participate in hurtful political commentary but want to love their female partners.

I grew up with a lot of these men. I had a childhood crush on one of these men. I have affection and warmth that lingers from sharing over a decade of life with some of these men. But knowing wonderful parts of these men’s personalities just makes their decisions to vote for Trump cut that much deeper – and that is just my reaction to the vote of male acquaintances. I cannot imagine how it would have felt to learn that the person I loved voted for Trump.

It is worthwhile to talk about the other factors that may have contributed to Donald Trump winning the popular vote and electoral college – and I hope this country does. Issues like abortion, fertility and sexual assault are not all that matter in U.S. politics. This country’s financial and political support of Israel, health care, working-class economic justice, and the environment were at the forefront of my mind when I cast my vote – and I expect this was true for others. But I do not see how voting for Trump would have improved any of those issues. Low taxes for the rich, tariffs, mass deportation – these are not measures that make America better. Moreover, even if you believe they are, I am sick of women being asked to deprioritize our rights and dignity for others. We need to stop putting women in a position where their rights and respect are even on the American ballot.

What I am trying to say here, boys, is that flowers are nice. However, voting for your partner’s rights is meaningful. So if your girl is breaking up with you over a political opinion or vote, try to understand that she wants someone who makes her a priority at the ballot box. I expect they, like me, do not think it is asking too much, if you want to love a woman “in sickness and in health,” to also vote like it.

In 2028, I hope men do.

Abby Scott feels extremely lucky to have grown up in Durango. She left Colorado to attend college in Massachusetts, but after graduating felt herself being drawn back. She currently works remotely as a higher education data analyst and lives in Telluride; she is planning to apply to law school in 2025 and hopes to work in the public sector.

Have an essay on dating you’d like to share? Send it to “Dateless in Denver” at editorial@westword.com.