Well hi there,

I know we’re the experts, but let’s be clear: we’re all figuring it out. How to date. How to make friends without it feeling like a networking event. How to show up without handing someone a full invoice of our emotional labor and calling it intimacy.

This week, we’re talking about connection and how it can feel a little unhinged and deeply brave.

Because here’s what the research (and your group chat) keeps confirming: most of us want closeness. We’re just scared we’ll be the only one asking for it. But being the first to try isn’t foolish. It’s generous. And in a world where fictional boyfriends get more consistency points than half of Hinge, generosity is kind of a flex.

– Team Necterine

P.S. Necterine is a next-gen connection app rethinking how we date, relate, and grow through every messy, meaningful chapter. For behind-the-scenes dispatches from the emotional frontlines of startup life, follow founder Holly Sloofman’s new Substack, Soft Launch.

I’ll HAVE WHAT SHE’S HAVING

A Soft Reminder That Everyone’s Faking It

We talk a lot about loneliness these days, usually in sweeping, algorithmic terms. Epidemic-level disconnection. Spirals of self-optimization. The collapse of community in a gig economy with no gigs. But what gets less airtime is the quieter, weirder reality: almost everyone is still trying to figure out how to make a friend as an adult without it feeling like a job interview.

Well, in a surprise to no one, Stanford psychologist Jamil Zaki has been studying this. His work found that Gen Z is deeply eager for connection, and also deeply convinced that no one else wants the same thing. We misread each other. We think everyone else is too cool, too self-contained, too uninterested to want something as earnest as closeness. So we stall. We self-protect. We assume our own warmth would be misplaced.

But here’s the good part (because there’s always a way to find the good part). When Zaki showed college students data proving that their peers were just as warm and just as scared, something shifted. People took more social risks. Said hi in the hall. Opened up a little more, and six months later, they had measurably more friends. And that’s on statistical significance!

The takeaway is not “go be your most extroverted self.” It’s more like, remember that behind those perfect profiles and curated flinches of a smile is someone else hoping this isn’t a waste of their time. We’re all waiting for permission to connect. And most of us would take the risk if someone else did first.

So if it feels scary, good. That means it matters. And if you’re unsure, assume they are too. Try anyway.

Gird your loins, time to answer the poll below with the truth… 👇👇👇

Are you going to be brave and put yourself out there this week?

Login or Subscribe to participate

IT DO COST A THING

Love, but Adjusted for Inflation

In a move economists are calling “deeply relatable,” the deeply unrelatable Jennifer “Jenny from the Block” Lopez has confirmed that love will now, in fact, cost a thing.

A recession indicator if we’ve ever seen one!

Romance has officially entered its surge pricing era. Want emotional availability? That’s extra. Eye contact during dinner? Premium tier only.

Not into that bullshit? Us either. Download Necterine.

HBD?

Sylus (Not Real) Had a Birthday Party, and 100 Women (Real) Showed Up

In a Singapore mall earlier this month, over a hundred women lined up with roses, merch, and matching tote bags to celebrate the birthday of their boyfriend, Sylus. He’s tall, tender, hot in that vaguely K-pop way… and 100% fictional (unless he’s based on someone real, but even then, we’re sure the creators would deny that).

We listen and we don’t judge.

Sylus is one of the main love interests in Love and Deepspace, a Chinese mobile dating game where players can flirt, fight, and emotionally lean on their chosen man for a small fee and a lot of crystals. One attendee said she’s never dated IRL, and doesn’t really want to. Another said she spent $3,000 on in-game currency and plushies, and it was worth every cent.

It’s part fan culture, part fantasy fulfillment, and part emotional outsourcing.

These games aren’t new (see: otome), but their popularity is spiking in tandem with loneliness stats. According to psychologist Nick Ballou, the appeal lies in experimentation: players get to be the most interesting person in the room and skip the part where someone misuses “gaslighting” mid-argument.

And while research shows that real relationships still build healthier emotional connections than AI-based ones, for some, the gap between “almost real” and “actually disappointing” is pretty thin.

Sylus might show up. But he’s made of pixels. And in 2025 (even with the bar literally being subterranean), we’re looking for a little more than that.

xoxo,

Team Necterine

Dating apps suck, but they don’t have to.

Necterine is a next-generation dating app to help you find (and cultivate) relationships.

Our mission is to redefine connection by celebrating every interaction. We provide tools and experiences that empower our users to discover themselves through the spectrum of relationships, from fleeting encounters to lifelong partnerships.