Hey you,

This week we’re talking about the bar — not the fun kind with overpriced cocktails and questionable lighting. The baseline kind. The emotional safety net that keeps you from falling for people who only clear it once every three months.

Everyone loves to joke about “the bar is in hell,” but most people couldn’t actually tell you where theirs is. And if you don’t know? That’s when you start mistaking “minimally respectful” for “deeply compatible.”

Let’s get into it.

– Team Necterine

THROWING IT BACK

7 Rings and the Year Your Standards Retired

Yes, 7 Rings dropped in 2019. Which, coincidentally, might’ve been the last year some of us had actual bars. Since then? The bar hasn’t just gotten lower, it’s been melted down for scrap, pawned off, and replaced with “they texted me back within 48 hours.”

Ariana wasn’t singing about bare minimums. I want it, I got it is not a vibe for settling. It’s the energy of knowing exactly what you want, and expecting to get it without apology.

Here’s the thing: “the bar” isn’t your dream partner checklist. It’s the baseline of what you require from someone to be a safe, healthy, compatible presence in your life — emotionally, mentally, and relationally. It’s the minimum acceptable level for emotional presence, respect, communication, and compatibility. It’s not the chandelier. It’s the ground floor.

So why are we still romanticizing people who meet the most basic human decency requirements like they’re a rare find? Why are we letting “kind of nice, sometimes” pass as compatibility?

When the bar disappears, we start treating baseline respect like a once-in-a-lifetime event instead of a requirement. We romanticize people who barely meet it, then wonder why the connection feels like a slow leak.

REALITY CHECK

How low can you go?

If you’ve been dating in a way that leaves you second-guessing your needs, now’s the moment to locate your bar and lock it in.

Ask yourself:

  • What’s the lowest level of communication I’m willing to accept before I feel unsafe or insecure?

  • How do I want to feel with someone, even on a bad day?

  • What am I no longer willing to “overlook” in the name of giving someone a chance?

Write it down. Seriously. Your bar should live somewhere outside your head so you can’t gaslight yourself into lowering it when someone’s hot, charming, or just there.

And if you’ve done this exercise before? Do it again. You’ve probably grown since then. What felt acceptable last year might not cut it now. Just like you update your phone, update your standards. If you’ve been out here for a while, your bar might have slowly lowered without you noticing. It happens in small concessions — ignoring late replies, excusing vague plans, pretending inconsistency is just “their communication style.” Suddenly, your bar’s in the basement, and you’re throwing a parade for people who meet it.

THE FINE PRINT

It’s not about rejection. It’s about direction.

The bar isn’t just about keeping bad fits out. It’s about making space for the good ones.

When you start treating baseline respect as the cover charge instead of the main attraction, you leave room for people who can actually meet you where you’re at. People who aren’t just nice — they’re intentional. They’re clear. They’re showing up for the kind of connection you say you want.

Because the truth? You can’t build a relationship on “vibes and vague hope.” But you can build one on clarity, mutual respect, and a shared commitment to showing up.

SHE’S BACK

Tiny Guide to being Human

For anyone whose bar is missing, dusty, or waiting in customs:

You don’t have to earn love by proving you’re low-maintenance.
You don’t have to keep decoding mixed signals like it’s your part-time job.
You don’t have to make “at least they’re nice” your dating strategy.

Romanticize your standards, not the situationship.
Raise your bar, then raise it again.
Order dessert. Leave early. Say no without explaining.

And… if this made you check your own bar, send it to a friend whose bar’s been wobbling. You know the one. The one who keeps confusing barely tries with basically a soulmate.

Because nothing resets your standards faster than someone reminding you you’re not actually asking for too much — you’re just asking the wrong person.

We see you. We love you. We’re rooting for you. You’ve got this.

xoxo,

Team Necterine

Dating sucks, but it doesn’t have to.

Necterine is a next-generation connection app to help you 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.