Love: 2015

But 2015 was also the year of specialization. Alongside Tinder’s brute-force geography, we saw the rise of Hinge (the "relationship app"), Bumble (which would launch later in the year, giving women the first move), and the continued intellectual cachet of OkCupid and Match.com. Love became a filter. You didn't just look for "someone nice"; you looked for someone who liked the same obscure bands, voted the same way, or stood within a five-mile radius.

Even in literature, Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend (which exploded in US popularity in 2015) obsessed not over romance, but over the dark, tangled, lifelong love between two women—a love full of envy and rivalry. The narrative was shifting: love wasn't just about finding "the one." It was about power, identity, and sometimes, leaving. Perhaps the most significant development in 2015 was the quiet revolution of self-love. The wellness industry, led by influencers and the explosion of Instagram, began promoting the idea that a romantic partner should not be the primary source of your happiness. "You can’t pour from an empty cup" became the mantra. love 2015

In music, Adele’s Hello (released late 2015) became an anthem not for new love, but for the unresolved past. Meanwhile, The Weeknd’s Can’t Feel My Face celebrated the numbing, addictive high of a relationship that was probably bad for you. The earnest, uncomplicated love songs of the early 2000s felt naive. In 2015, love had edges, terms, and conditions. But 2015 was also the year of specialization