In 2022, I spoke with Emma, a 22-year-old Chinese student in the UK, about her experiences with dating apps. Recalling one particularly disappointing encounter, she let out a sigh. Emma had matched with a man whose profile explicitly stated that he was looking for a long-term relationship. But the day after their third date, he texted her to say he had only ever wanted casual sex, then ghosted her. Feeling betrayed and emotionally drained, Emma changed her dating profile to say she was “Not Sure” what she wanted.

Emma’s experience was far from unusual. More than two-thirds of the 40 heterosexual Chinese students I interviewed in the UK reported similarly ambiguous dating intentions — findings drawn from a longitudinal study conducted between January 2022 and March 2023 that examined how their experiences with dating apps evolved while studying abroad. Many initially joined dating apps with clear goals, whether to pursue romantic relationships, make friends, or engage in language and cultural exchange. Yet over the course of the study, 27 of the 40 interviewees became less certain about what they wanted, increasingly adopting a “go with the flow” or “I’ll just see what happens” attitude.

For some, this ambiguity opened up new possibilities. For many others, however, it became a way to protect themselves after disappointing dating experiences. Beneath their apparent uncertainty, many still longed for a stable, long-term relationship.

For some young Chinese students arriving in the UK, keeping their dating intentions ambiguous is a deliberate strategy to leave their options open. In China, traditional dating culture places considerable emphasis on long-term commitment and marriage. Expressing vague or noncommittal intentions on Chinese dating platforms can carry a social stigma, with users sometimes labeled zhanan or zhanü, derogatory terms for men and women perceived as dishonest or irresponsible in romantic relationships.

Moving abroad can change these expectations. In the UK, students encounter a dating environment where a wider range of relationship arrangements is socially accepted. Living far from their parents and the social expectations of home also gives them greater freedom to experiment. For some, dating apps offer an opportunity to explore different kinds of relationships without committing to any particular one.

This “go with the flow” mentality was particularly common among postgraduate students enrolled in one-year degree programs. Jenny, a 23-year-old master’s student, explained during our first interview, shortly after arriving in the UK, that she had deliberately avoided setting clear dating goals so she could explore unconventional relationships.

“In China, I never thought about it because I was afraid of facing stigma and judgment,” she recalled. “I want to seize this opportunity to explore different possibilities during this one-year period.”

But not everyone embraced ambiguity out of a desire to experiment. For many other students, particularly women, keeping their intentions vague was a response to negative dating experiences.

After encountering misleading dating profiles and being ghosted without warning, some students became reluctant to invest emotionally in new relationships. Julia, a 23-year-old woman who had joined dating apps hoping to find a long-term partner, described feeling “emotionally paralyzed” after repeatedly meeting men who were only interested in casual sex. She initially had a clear relationship goal, but as she grew increasingly doubtful that she would find the commitment she wanted, she changed her profile to express more ambiguous intentions. By lowering her expectations, she hoped to avoid further disappointment.

Yet the difficulties these students faced in finding long-term relationships were not only about whom they encountered on dating apps. Their status as temporary residents in the UK could also make commitment more complicated. With student visas approaching expiration, many faced uncertainty about where they would live or work after graduation. Investing emotionally in a relationship could feel risky when relocation or a return to China was only months away. Potential partners in the UK might also hesitate to commit to someone who could soon leave the country.

Chou, a 23-year-old student, summed up her approach as “No expectations, no disappointments.” She explained, “Most local daters did not want to form a long-term relationship with me because I’m only here temporarily as an international student. They worried that once I head back to China after graduation, our relationship wouldn’t have a future.” Chou thus adopted ambiguous motivations to cope with the difficulty of forming and maintaining long-term relationships as graduation approached.

Yet perhaps the most surprising finding from my study was that adopting a “go with the flow” approach on dating apps did not necessarily signal a growing preference for casual relationships. In practice, my interviewees experienced different kinds of relationships, with some remaining short-term while others had the potential to develop into longer-term partnerships. Many of them still longed for lasting love. In some cases, that desire became stronger over time, as the initial excitement of exploring different relationships began to fade.

Jack, a 26-year-old student, described this gradual shift. During our first interview, he said he found it exciting to keep his intentions ambiguous because it allowed him to “explore different types of relationships.” But when we spoke again nearly a year later, he had come to understand his desires differently.

“As I kept using dating apps, I started to realize my expectations for long-term relationships had been awakened. Trying different relationships was fun, but it gradually left me feeling empty. I really wanted a serious relationship, but I suppressed that desire because I felt it was impossible to find something long-term on dating apps.”

The word “awakened” is revealing. It suggests that Jack’s desire for long-term commitment had never entirely disappeared. Rather than simply shifting from a preference for casual relationships to serious ones, he gradually came to recognize what mattered most to him.

Eve, a 23-year-old master’s student, captured this tension through a food metaphor. She described her short-term relationships as daican, a Chinese term meaning “meal replacements.” In Chinese internet slang, the term describes a substitute that offers some comfort or satisfaction but cannot fully make up for what someone really wants.

“I feel it’s very difficult to form long-term relationships on dating apps, so I’ll just stick to some ‘meal replacements’ for now to keep me from getting hungry,” she explained. “But a meal replacement cannot replace staple food.” For Eve, these brief connections were not meaningless. They offered companionship and helped ease the loneliness of living abroad. But they were substitutes for what she really wanted. The “staple food” in her metaphor was a stable, long-term relationship.

These experiences were neither entirely positive nor entirely negative. The “meal replacement” strategy could help meet immediate emotional needs. But such relationships rarely satisfied overseas students’ deeper desire for lasting commitment. In this sense, these experiences shouldn’t be taken as defining who they were or what they wanted from intimacy.

Dating apps offer Chinese students abroad new opportunities to explore relationships beyond the expectations they grew up with. But while living overseas may change how they approach dating, it does not necessarily change what they ultimately want. For many, the desire for lasting love remains, even as the uncertainty of their temporary lives abroad shapes what they feel able to pursue.

In line with research ethics, all research participants are given pseudonyms.

(Header image: VCG)