Navigating Love in a Transactional World

Inspired by several friends currently seeking a partner of substance

Almost five years ago, after a life time of searching, at the sge of seventy, I finally found my soulmate, after three marriages and one live-in girl. What took so long? Because I had so much to learn.

I know several people today who are looking for their soul mate. This is not an easy quest. Relationships in today’s world can be tricky. In this swirling chaos of modern love, where everyone’s swiping, comparing, and running the numbers, it’s impossible to ignore the elephant in the room: relationships feel more transactional than ever.

You’d think finding a partner would be about connection or shared values, but no, it’s spreadsheets of emotional ROI, a world where “What’s in it for me?” is the unspoken mantra. The cynics might say, “Of course, all relationships are transactional.” Maybe they’ve got a point. But does that make it true love, or just a polished barter system with better lighting?

Let’s face it, every relationship involves some exchange. You give time, you get companionship. You lend an ear, you feel good about being there for someone. Even your saintly aunt, who never asks for anything, probably gets a warm fuzzy feeling from her altruism. At some level, that’s human nature. But when does it stop being natural and start looking like a contract negotiation? That’s the kicker. It’s not the give and take that’s the problem—it’s the cold calculation that sucks the soul out of it.

Sure, we’re all guilty of it. Who hasn’t weighed the pros and cons of a relationship, even subconsciously? But here’s where it gets murky: not every connection fits the “You scratch my back, I scratch yours” mold. Take unconditional love. A parent doesn’t keep a tally of every diaper changed or sleepless night endured. A best friend doesn’t charge for midnight calls when your world’s falling apart. These are the relationships that transcend the transactional muck, rooted in a pure desire to give, without expecting anything in return.

So why does it seem like those relationships are harder to find these days? Maybe it’s the cultural shift. We’re living in the age of individualism, where success is measured in personal achievements and material gain. Relationships? They’re just another checkbox on the life plan. Add to that the crushing weight of economic pressure, and suddenly, “What does this person bring to the table?” feels less like a red flag and more like a survival tactic. It’s not greed—it’s practicality. Or so we tell ourselves.

And then there’s technology, that double-edged sword of connection and alienation. Dating apps are basically marketplaces. Swipe left, swipe right—it’s a transaction before you even meet. Profiles are curated for maximum appeal, each one screaming, “Here’s what I can offer!” It’s hard to blame anyone for playing the game when the rules are so clearly laid out. But it doesn’t stop there. Social media throws fuel on the fire, flooding your feed with picture-perfect couples who seem to have it all. The comparisons are relentless. Why settle for someone who’s 80% great when you could find a 90% match, right?

Even the shifting gender roles don’t escape scrutiny. Traditional dynamics—men as providers, women as nurturers—have given way to a more egalitarian approach. That’s progress, no doubt. But it also means relationships can feel like a balancing act, where both parties are hyper-aware of their contributions. It’s equality, sure, but sometimes it feels like a scoreboard.

And let’s not forget the self-care movement. Boundaries are the buzzword of the decade, and for good reason. People are prioritizing their mental health, refusing to settle for toxic dynamics or lopsided efforts. But in the quest for balance, some relationships get dissected into transactional pieces: “Am I getting enough back?” becomes the rallying cry. It’s healthy to a point, but when every interaction is scrutinized for reciprocity, the warmth of connection can freeze over.

Still, not all hope is lost. Relationships don’t have to be cold exchanges, even in this hyper-calculated world. The antidote lies in intentionality—building connections that go beyond the surface. It’s about caring for someone because you genuinely want to, not because of what they can offer. Vulnerability, too, is a game-changer. When you let your guard down, share your fears, your dreams, your messy, imperfect self, the relationship shifts. It stops being about the transaction and starts being about the connection.

And let’s talk growth. The best relationships aren’t about keeping score—they’re about building something together. It’s not “What can I get?” but “What can we create?” That kind of partnership isn’t easy to find, but it’s worth the effort. It’s the difference between a spark that fizzles out and a flame that burns steady.

So, are all relationships transactional? Maybe at the most basic level, sure. But they don’t have to be only transactional. The perception that love is a business deal may be louder today, thanks to cultural shifts, economic realities, and the relentless march of technology. But deeper connections, rooted in empathy, shared experiences, and unconditional care, are still out there. The challenge is looking past the noise and finding them.

Because at the end of the day, the best relationships aren’t about what you can take. They’re about what you can give—and what you can build together. That’s not a transaction; that’s love. Or, at least, something worth swiping right for.