Photo of a peeled orange by Aly Saab taken during Art Affair on Dec. 21 2023 (Credit: Nima Salha)
Every other Thursday, Nima invites a viral social media trend back to her place, and dissects it under a Middle Eastern ring light.
It seems that Instagram and TikTok have created a space to test partners — boyfriends in particular — and turn their performances into public trials.
The idea of testing our partners isn’t exactly new. The first “test" I put my boyfriend through was meeting my friends. It could also be meeting your parents, or navigating an exceptionally loud family gathering — think of the tunnel of questions a new boyfriend would have to get through at your regular Lebanese family gathering.
The old Turkish tradition of adding salt to a suitor’s coffee as a sign of disinterest has evolved into a test over time. Now, the bride-to-be would serve her future husband salty coffee, expecting him to remain collected and drink it as a sign of his love and devotion.
A new wave of tests has emerged, like the orange peel theory. The test is simple: if your boyfriend is willing and happy to peel an orange for you — a somewhat inconvenient task — then he loves you.
This test, in particular, has some psychological validity to it. Allegedly based on Dr. John Gottman’s theory on what he calls “Emotional Bids,” the test is viewed as a bid for connection.
However, this doesn't justify asking your significant other if they’d still love you if you were a worm. It’s unfortunate, I know.
Another common trend is the “Name a woman” test. The girlfriend would record herself asking her boyfriend to name a random woman, and the only way he passes this test is if the first name he thinks of is hers.
Poor unsuspecting boyfriends are then snatched out of their headspace and thrust into this bizarre live-streamed testing world. It’s stressful. It’s probably why one guy answered “Marie Curie” (a great answer, but I won’t get into that).
Once we’ve seen enough of these videos with the “right” answers, we start expecting even better ones from our partners. We know exactly what we want to hear, and any deviation sounds like a devastating failure. We set them up to fail, and assign way too much weight to it. When they do, it's not just disappointing, it's hurtful, frustrating and embarrassing. It reaffirms whatever relationship anxieties we might have, and we all have them.
Although the trend probably aims to challenge the stereotype that women are more emotionally invested by giving men the chance to say wonderfully romantic things, it often ends up reinforcing heteronormative dynamics where women bear the emotional labor and men are reluctant participants.
The tests might be able to filter out the men who are willing to listen from those who brush off your question as unimportant, but that might be the only thing they can accomplish.
Even the “right” answer is not good enough once it starts to feel rehearsed. The performative intimacy we’re seeking through these games doesn’t actually satisfy our need for real connection. That’s why, even after a passed test, there’s still an urge to ask more follow-ups, stir the pot and see how far he’ll go. It's forced, fake and not great for your skin.