I Asked “Can We Build This?” While He Asked “Do I Even Want This?”
Exploring the tension between intentional and passive dating—and what happens when two people move toward commitment at different speeds.
There are two types of daters: the active and the passive. Active daters ask, Can I build something with this person? Passive daters ask, Do I feel enough to keep going? Both approaches are valid—until they collide in the same relationship. That’s how love becomes one-sided, with one person all-in, while the other isn’t even sure they want to stay.
I was the active one. Dreaming up a shared future, making room in my life for him, and asking the hard questions about how we could grow together. I wasn’t in a rush, though I’m sure he’d say I was. To me, it felt intentional. Every step I took was laced with curiosity and care. I didn’t need immediate certainty—I just needed movement in the same direction.
He was passive. Kind, warm, and receptive, but always waiting to feel something definitive before making a choice. He said he needed time and clarity. While I was building a foundation, he was sitting on the fence, watching it happen.
In the end, he told me his head and his heart never fully aligned. And while I understand that torn feeling—I’ve been there before—it left me reeling. I wasn’t confused. I was investing. I was showing up. I was building something real. But he was already halfway out the door.
Active and passive daters don’t just move at different paces. They move for different reasons. Active daters take conscious steps forward, driven by curiosity, intention, and a willingness to shape the relationship as it unfolds. Passive daters, on the other hand, often wait to feel something before they move. They’re not building toward a future—they’re waiting for one to arrive.
When paired together, it’s a painful imbalance. One person shows up with questions, effort, and direction. The other stalls, avoids, or delays, hoping things will eventually make sense. But clarity doesn’t just arrive on its own. Relationships take effort, reflection, and movement from both sides. You can’t ask someone to build with you while you’re still deciding if you want to pick up the hammer.
It wasn’t the end that hurt the most, but how it ended. The emotional labor of trying. The loneliness of doing the work for two. The slow, aching realization that I wasn’t being met with the same energy, care, or clarity.
It’s disorienting to feel so much while the other person is still trying to decide if they feel enough. You begin to question your own pace, your own needs, your own perception of connection. You ask yourself if you expected too much, move too quickly, misread the signs. But in reality, I never asked for certainty—just for participation. For movement. For someone to show up in the process with you.
Passive dating doesn’t always look like avoidance on the surface. It can look like tenderness, affection, even consistency—until you realize they’re only consistent in their indecision. That no matter how safe or loving you are, they’re still unsure. Still waiting for a feeling that may never come while you’re already deep in it because you allowed yourself to go there.
So Why is Passive Dating So Seductive?
At first, passive dating feels soft. Gentle. Safe. It offers just enough warmth to keep hope alive, but not enough clarity to feel secure. When someone doesn’t push you away, when they’re kind and present and seem almost there, it’s easy to believe they just need a little more time. That if you’re patient enough, loving enough, grounded enough—they’ll eventually meet you.
But passive dating relies on potential rather than presence. You don’t fall in love with who they are—you fall in love with what it could be, if only they stepped in fully. You end up doing the emotional heavy lifting, interpreting half-efforts as signs of progress, clinging to the small moments that feel aligned. All the while, they’re still hovering at the edge of the relationship, unsure if they even really want in.
The seduction is subtle: you’re being chosen just enough to stay hopeful, but not enough to feel held. And the deeper you go, the more you start confusing almost with intimacy.
The Cost of Waiting to Be Chosen
When you’re partnered with someone who hasn’t really chosen you, you start to abandon yourself in small, quiet ways. You ignore the gnawing feeling in your gut. You downplay your needs so you don’t scare them off. You convince yourself to be grateful for breadcrumbs, because at least they haven’t left yet.
But waiting to be chosen slowly chips away at your self-worth. You start to believe their indecision reflects your value. You start to feel like you’re too much—for wanting clarity, for asking to be met, for hoping someone would show up with the same kind of readiness you’ve shown them.
The truth is: love isn’t a reward you earn by waiting long enough. Love is something two people actively build when they’re both willing to step forward. Anything less than that will leave you questioning your worth when the only real problem was their hesitation to begin with.
Are You an Active or Passive Dater?
Three self-reflection prompts to help you get started: