The “Date with Me” TikTok Trend Needs to Go. Immediately.

Swipe through TikTok lately and you’ve probably seen the #DateWithMe trend. As of this writing, the hashtag has racked up over 7 million views, and the videos are… well, exactly what they sound like. Creators—primarily women—document every excruciating minute of their dating experiences, from mascara application to post-date analysis. It’s giving makeup tutorial meets first-date reality TV, wrapped in a “we’re all in this together” bow.

Community is important. Connection is important. There’s comfort in sharing our experiences online, especially when it comes to something as vulnerable and anxiety-inducing as dating. There’s a kind of safety, or camaraderie, in knowing someone else has been stood up, ghosted, or surprised by an unexpectedly good time.

But this trend? It’s time for it to go.

We used to go on dates without the Internet knowing

Once upon a time—back when Mark-Paul Gosselaar was the swoon-worthy Zack Morris on Saved by the Bell and not the deranged kidnapping lunatic Sir Hugh Evans on Found—you’d get asked out, you’d say yes (or maybe you asked them out), and you’d go. You and your nerves would navigate small talk over apps. If the date was amazing, you told your best friend over the phone. If it was a train wreck, same deal.

The win was yours to savor. The loss was yours to learn from privately. There wasn’t a performative play-by-play. You didn’t have to worry about whether your mascara smudged in 4K or if your “get ready with me” voiceover was witty enough to garner likes. You were just present—feeling it out, reading the room, deciding if the person across from you was someone worth knowing. Or at least worth a second drink.

Privacy isn’t the enemy of connection

There’s real value in shared experience. There’s something lovely and communal about a “come along with me” video—and given the prevalence of crazy people these days, it just may save your life. But turning a first date into content before knowing if there’s a connection feels like putting seedlings under a heat lamp and wondering why they wither.

What happens if the date goes sideways? What if your date Googles your handle and finds you narrating your expectations into your bathroom mirror before you even show up? What if they’re amazing and you want to build something real, but you’ve already turned the relationship into content before it even had a chance to become a relationship?

Privacy isn’t outdated. It’s protective of you, the person you’re with, and the fragile little seed that might become something real if it’s not overexposed to Internet scrutiny too soon.

As writer Kelly Gonsalves put it for Well + Good, “The need to perform or present yourself in a certain way for social media can detract from the authentic experience of connecting with someone new.” And Essence editor Brooklyn White agrees, adding, “You do not have to give the world a front-row seat to your love life. It’s sacred. You can gatekeep your romance. That’s okay.”

You’re not on a date with your followers

When you film yourself mid-bite or document your heart rate during the appetizer, are you really connecting with your date, or are you performing for an audience?

Dates are already full of enough pressure without turning them into entertainment. And isn’t the whole point of going out with someone to be with them? To observe their quirks, to laugh at a dumb joke, to figure out if there’s chemistry when you’re not looking through a filter?

You can’t get that if you’re hyper-focused on content creation. You miss the moment. You miss them. And they might miss you, too, because you’re not really there.

Some things should stay just for you

We can have private joys, disappointments, and dinners that don’t need a highlight reel. Not every “date night” needs a cinematic arc or a viral twist. Sometimes, it’s just two people trying to figure out if they click, and that’s more than enough.

So let’s normalize this again: go ahead with the date. Put your phone away. Be present. Tell your group chat the following day if it’s a good one. If it’s a disaster, laugh about it later. But for the love of all things holy—and your sanity—stop filming it for the world.

Some things are better left unposted.