Romance isn’t dead—but a growing share of young Americans are putting it on ice.

A new study from DatingNews.com and the Kinsey Institute finds the cost of living is squeezing courtship to the point that many Gen Z and millennial singles are stepping back from the search entirely.

According to the report, 43% of young U.S. singles are going on fewer dates, 37% are cutting back on dating in general, and 33% blame the economy for their hesitation.

In plain terms: the price of connection has climbed high enough that a meaningful slice of young adults are delaying first dates, trimming frequency, or pressing pause altogether.

What’s driving the pullback

It’s not hard to see how the math stops feeling romantic.

Between higher rents, pricier rideshares, and steeper tabs for “just drinks,” a casual night out in many cities can easily tip into triple digits.

For Gen Z—many of whom are still getting a handle on budgets, debt, and entry-level wages—that reality turns dating into a luxury line item.

When money is tight, bandwidth often is, too; the energy to plan, pay for, and recover from dates dwindles alongside disposable income.

The study’s topline numbers put data behind an experience many young people describe anecdotally: they still want connection, but they’re rationing how often they pursue it, choosing cheaper settings when they do, and thinking harder about whether the outcome justifies the outlay.

When inflation speeds up love

The financial pressure isn’t only slowing first dates—it’s speeding up move-in dates.

The same study indicates that nearly one in four singles are willing to fast-track cohabitation to blunt housing costs. Splitting rent, groceries, and utilities promises immediate relief, especially in expensive metros.

For couples already serious about their future, cohabitation can feel like a practical next step arriving a few months earlier than planned.

But the economic calculus cuts both ways. Speed can be a gift to compatible partners—and a trap for mismatched ones.

Expert caution on “financial coupling”

Sexologist Natassia Miller warns that moving in “primarily for economic reasons” can lead to what she calls “financial coupling,” in which leases and bills—rather than true compatibility—become the glue.

That kind of entanglement can make it harder to exit unfulfilling or unhealthy relationships.

The risk is subtle but real: in trying to solve a short-term money problem, couples may skip the time needed to assess emotional and sexual fit, inviting larger costs—financial and otherwise—later.

Her message lands at a moment when many young adults are redefining relationship milestones around practical constraints.

The caution isn’t to rule out cohabitation in a tough economy, but to be explicit about the why: financial convenience should follow relationship readiness, not replace it.

A generational calculus

There’s evidence the money-over-love trade-off isn’t just a temporary belt-tightening measure.

A recent survey by matchmaking service Tawkify found that nearly half of Gen Z would pick financial well-being over being in a relationship if forced to choose. As Brie Temple, the company’s chief matchmaker, put it: “Money equals safety, security and freedom.”

In that light, wealth can stand in for qualities—stability, ambition, forward motion—that many respondents value in a partner and in themselves.

That’s not cynicism so much as context. Gen Z came of age amid volatile job markets, spiking rents, and a pandemic that upended timelines.

For a cohort raised on financial cautionary tales, prioritizing stability reads less like a rejection of romance and more like an attempt to build a foundation sturdy enough to support it later.

Not just a New York story

It’s easy to frame the trend as a coastal-city phenomenon, but the pullback appears broader.

Inflation has altered what “a normal date” looks like nationwide: fewer restaurant dinners, more coffee walks; fewer ride-and-restaurant combos, more free museum days and community events. The shift is as much about tone as cost.

Money talk arrives earlier. Expectations get reset before the second round. Singles who once gauged chemistry over a tasting menu now test it while cooking together at home.

Those adaptations don’t eliminate financial friction, but they spread it out, making room for connection without the financial whiplash. For many, that’s the difference between dating less and not dating at all.

The risks—and possible upsides—of the new dating economy

The biggest risk in this moment is entanglement without alignment: moving in together because a lease is expiring or a roommate is leaving rather than because core values match.

Financial stress can also dampen curiosity and patience, two qualities early-stage relationships need.

When the margin for error shrinks, daters may be quicker to end promising connections after one awkward night, or slower to say yes to a plan that stretches the budget.

There are potential upsides, too. Money pressures can accelerate healthy transparency—how partners split costs, what they owe, what they earn, how they save.

Couples who navigate those conversations early may end up with stronger financial muscles and clearer expectations, both of which support long-term stability.

The difference is intent: choosing to have hard talks and shape shared budgets is empowering; feeling cornered into cohabitation is not.

A pause isn’t the same as surrender

Headlines will focus on the eye-catching stat—“1 in 3 are giving up on love”—but the fuller picture is more nuanced.

Many aren’t giving up so much as triaging. Some are channeling energy toward career steps or mental health with the aim of returning to dating later, better resourced.

Others are cutting frequency and cost, not interest—subbing hikes, potluck nights, and neighborhood events for pricier venues. A smaller contingent is collapsing timelines, betting that shared rent will make space for shared growth.

Taken together, these choices suggest a pragmatic response to pressures beyond any one person’s control. As the cost of living stabilizes—or if wages catch up—experts expect some of the pullback to unwind.

Until then, the dominant dating language for many young adults is pragmatism: fewer first dates, more frank money talk, and a willingness to admit that financial health and romantic health are hard to separate.

The bottom line

The affordability crisis has become a dating story, not just a rent or groceries story.

Young singles are adjusting, sometimes in dramatic ways—dating less, moving in sooner, or choosing financial footing over immediate romance.

The trade-offs are real, and so are the stakes. For those contemplating big steps for small savings, experts urge caution: let readiness lead and economics follow.

Whether this moment proves a blip or a generational reset will depend on what happens next with prices, paychecks, and housing.

For now, the trend is clear: love isn’t out of style—but in 2025, it’s up against a costly headwind, and a significant share of young people are choosing to wait it out.