2026 will be the year of the ‘crush recession’ – here’s why

If 2025 was the year of the “relationship recession”, then 2026 is set to be the year of the “crush recession” – and I fear it will be far worse.

The term has been percolating online for weeks now, with single people declaring that dating is in the midst of a crisis so severe that nobody even fancies anyone any more.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a crush, or got all giggly and kicked my feet over a man,” said one Instagram user, who goes by @MonSharx, in a now-viral Instagram reel that has garnered more than 128,000 views since it was posted in September. “I don’t want to keep writing things off to the fact that I’m getting older, but I don’t find anyone attractive any more. I don’t even know what my type is.”

The clip struck a nerve. Hundreds of people in the comments said they could relate, and shared near-identical experiences. “Lol, same here – the last time I had a proper crush was five years ago,” wrote one person.

“Here I was thinking it was just me,” wrote another.

“You’re not alone,” said a third.

Part of the problem is that a crush is formed through repeated exposure – something that’s become increasingly rare. In a culture in which so many of us work from home and spend more time staring at screens than interacting with strangers, chance encounters have all but disappeared. On the Tube, nobody looks at anyone any more; people are either fixed on Candy Crush or mindlessly tapping on their phones.

Sure, you might develop a crush on someone you meet via a dating app. But that’s not quite the same thing. You’ve already mutually agreed you’re attracted to one another – you both swiped right, which is the reason you met in the first place.

A crush is exciting precisely because it happens unexpectedly, often in an environment entirely separate from your romantic life. Maybe it’s that friend-of-a-friend you’ve bumped into a few times at parties. Or perhaps it’s the guy you always clock at the gym. A crush is a sign of hope: it allows you to visualise romantic possibility through your attraction to someone else. And dating in the past year has been defined by anything but hope.

Heteropessimism became a viral shorthand for the despair felt by straight people looking for love. Dating app fatigue set in. Situationships lost their appeal. Even the idea of a Richard Curtis meet-cute began to feel faintly delusional. Then came the relationship recession – a term coined to describe the sharp decline in married or cohabiting young adults across the world.

The wider data makes for similarly grim reading. Dating app users have fallen across the board. Marriage rates dropped by 54 per cent in the United States between 1900 and 2022. And The Atlantic reported that even young people aren’t dating any more.

Against that backdrop, is it really so surprising that people are struggling to feel attracted to anyone at all? Perhaps not. Still, it’s a bleak prospect – particularly if this malaise stretches into 2026, a year when single people are in desperate need of optimism.

The good news is that optimism does exist. I’ve seen it first-hand, having recently started hosting singles’ nights for my extended network. I call them Red Lips, in honour of my signature scarlet lipstick look.

Last week, I hosted an event for 120 people in Dalston, London – and the energy was electric. People were excited, open, galvanised by the possibility of flirting with strangers. A few couples peeled off into the wee hours; others ventured on to nearby karaoke bars.

So perhaps there’s life in us old dogs yet. As a single woman myself, I’d certainly like to think so.