Dating in a Small Town

I love Hallmark movies. I got to act in one last year with Jodie Sweetin: The Jane Mysteries: Too Much to Lose, part of a series in which the lead character runs a detective agency – while tending to a romantic subplot on the side. 

Dozens of Hallmark films, many of them storybook holiday romances, are filmed around Ontario every year – Trading Up Christmas was filmed in Orangeville in 2024. In those, romance is unabashedly front and centre, making them prime guilty pleasure viewing as the snow starts to fly. 

The warm and fuzzy – and infinitely repeatable – premise feels as cozy as a holiday sweater: a hard-working woman, tired of the city life, returns to the small town where she grew up, then falls in love with a hunk of a man, often a high school ex, who works in a small shop or runs an inn in town. The underlying thesis: It’s somehow easier to find love in a small town than it is in a bustling metropolis.

If only it were so simple.

I grew up in Mono and spent my university years in Toronto. Now in my 30s, I am back in Mono but regularly travel due to my work schedule. In May, I lived in Toronto for an acting gig. 

The most popular way young singletons meet now, whether we like it or not, is via a dating app. During my time in Toronto, I decided to download the Bumble app in hopes of meeting new people and sparking a connection. Within seven minutes of downloading the app, I got seven matches. How lucky was I?! I went out on a few dates, met a woman at a fancy ramen place, and rendezvoused with another at a hip board-game café. One of the best things about dating is the variety in the places you can go and the people you can meet. I also went out dancing two to three nights a week at clubs with friends from my university days, old haunts such as The Dance Cave, TILT, Crews and Tangos, and the Madison – where I met and got to know more singles. Living in a multicultural hub like Toronto has its benefits: you can meet people from all around the world, from Korea to Brazil and everywhere in between. 

Fast-forward to August, when I lived in Halifax for the rest of the summer while performing in a play. I downloaded Tinder and was able to set up a coffee and ice cream date the very next day. How convenient! 

But when I come back home to Mono, it’s a different story. Whether I’m using Tinder, Bumble, or Hinge (The Big Three dating apps), I am lucky if I get as many as 10 matches in a whole month. 

Why is this? Am I not handsome in my profile photos? Is my bio not clever or flirtatious enough? Do I over-text potential dates? Under-text? Well, if any of that is true, why does this problem not seem to happen in the cities but rather only here in Dufferin County? 

Because it seems that the real pickle is this: while I’m in the country, I am usually informed after about 15 swipes on an app that I have officially run out of any potential matches in my area. 

While the country life can provide fresh air, scenic nature and peace of mind, it makes it hard to strike up new relationships, or even just a friendship. 

A numbers and location game

In theory, I’m in a demographic sweet spot. The median age of the town I’m closest to, Orangeville, is about 38. Toronto’s is the same. But because of a population ratio of something like 90:1, there just aren’t that many 30-somethings to meet.

In addition to a smaller dating pool, even if you do make a match, there are a few extra curses to contend with. As 26-year-old Alice (whose name has been changed for privacy reasons) says, all too often when profiles pop up on the apps, she tends to already know the person. “Everyone knows everyone,” she says. “There’s no secrets around here.” Even if you don’t know someone directly, she notes, “You get introduced to people, but then you know someone that dated them or someone they dated.” 

As Abby, a real estate agent in the area, puts it, “It’s not easy to meet people out here in the wild.” 

Abby, who also asked to keep her full name private, agrees with Alice’s complaint about already knowing everyone in town, but has another level of cringe to add to the discussion: how about running into people you know while sipping coffee across from a potential Mr. Right?

All too often, Abby has been on dates when a client or co-worker stops by her table. They assume she is with her husband or long-term partner – and she finds herself awkwardly explaining that she’s in the middle of a date. Ouch. 

So Abby’s solution to these uncomfortable encounters is to extend her dating app radius. Now, she’s only willing to go on dates with people in other towns. 

Likewise, I’m at the period in my dating journey where I may need to consider widening my terrain. I usually set the distance to extend about 25 kilometres from my location in Mono. I could extend my range farther and get more matches immediately, but that would then mean I match with people who live as far away as Kitchener or Scarborough. And while living in Mono, I’m not stoked about driving that far for a first date. In Toronto, you can hop on a subway and meet within an hour. Around here you may need to get in your car and travel through winding backroads with poor cell service. If you don’t have a car? Good luck! 

Not a very Hallmark sentiment, I know. 

Is meeting someone in the wild even an option? 

To be honest though, I’m not too glum. I’ve come to realize it’s not that dating in a small town is tough per se; maybe all that’s required is a fresh take.

While there may not be a critical mass of cafés, bars and other venues where young adults can mingle, as there is in a big city, there are plenty of annual events to immerse yourself in, such as the Orangeville Blues and Jazz Festival and the Dufferin Film Festival. 

Ironically, perhaps, I’ve also found some great ideas on another internet platform – Reddit. As one comment so bluntly puts it, “Hey, people of Orangeville, does anyone know where younger people can hang out?” And then there was the couple simply looking to socialize with others. “We’re both fairly introverted, but looking to make some local friends,” they posted.

The main suggestions seem to be meeting people via a passion or hobby, such as game meet-ups (think Dungeons and Dragons or Magic: The Gathering) or book clubs to meet others with similar interests. Car enthusiasts have Orangeville’s Cruisin’ on First car show every summer. The Orangeville Public Library hosts a variety of workshops and classes. And local churches have ongoing social activities – a side effect, possibly, of news that Gen Z has been returning to church in increasing numbers. 

Through more digging, I was able to find a Facebook group called Making Friends in Orangeville, which, to my shock, had a whopping 647 people in it at the time, including some of my own Facebook friends. The group has ongoing discussions on possible gatherings – some I didn’t want to miss.

Everybody dance now

Jonathon Neville is the chief administrator of the Making Friends page, which he sees as a way to bring people together. His most recent endeavour is a revival of his Dance Orangeville classes at Westminster United Church. As someone who loves dancing while out and about in Toronto, there was no way I was passing this up. 

“I would love to revive a culture where people go out dancing,” Neville says. “Way before TV, everyone went out dancing, including in rural communities.” 

I attended a partnered dance class (alone) and met almost a dozen friendly faces. The crowd was mainly baby boomers, many of them married couples, but I had a great time dancing and socializing even if my generation was largely absent. 

Neville, a dance teacher, choreographer and actor who also works with the Dufferin Arts Council, comes across as an affable leader and something of a social butterfly. “I struggled upon arriving here from Toronto 10 years ago. In Toronto I’d be out dancing and instantly have new friends. Here, there was nowhere to go dancing.” He adds, “My stepson just moved to Montreal, and he’s having the time of his life meeting new friends at university. Every day another girl gives him her phone number (but he’s not going wild!)” 

Neville is pondering ideas for more ways local community members can meet. “I have plans to run a speed dating event,” he reveals, “and a speed friending event.” 

I’ll be there. But halfway through this class, a realization hits me. Many of the people here are married, yet it seems that while they came for exercise and the fun of spinning across a dance floor, they were also here to get out of the house and make new friends. 

When we’re not in a committed relationship, we can imagine a partner will solve the problem of feeling alone. But what if even when you find the one, there remains a pull to keep existential loneliness at bay? What if getting out and doing something, anything, with other humans, rather than sitting at home rewatching Schitt’s Creek on Netflix, is just a smart thing to do? 

It turns out taking a break from the apps, and just getting out and encountering the great people who live here is extremely refreshing. 

For me, I’ve found even the simple act of going for a coffee downtown, followed by a quick stroll along Broadway can have its benefits. Maybe you meet someone you haven’t seen in a while or strike up a new conversation with a stranger in an unexpected way. I’ve been doing that more, and as a result, I’m now looking forward to a hiking date. 

What I’m learning: there are great humans here in our community. Go out and say hi!