“Everybody who comes from abroad is fully focused on building their career and getting every opportunity possible. No one really has time to slowly explore or build something. There’s no patience. It’s like: okay, next — whatever suits my lifestyle or career goals.”

Lava: “Most probably, that’s why my past three relationships were with people born and raised here. They feel the city differently. I like ambitious people, but not when ambition is the only focus. I like people who prioritise feelings and love.”

“I’ve been here for quite a long time. I’ve had a lot of friends leave. I’ve had relationships end simply because someone’s contract ended and they moved on. Dubai has been quite a transient place in my experience. The number of people who actually manage to stay long-term and do the distance is pretty small. I don’t know many expats who’ve been here for more than ten years — at least, not many I’ve become close to. I think Dubai is a tough place to find love. Your experience here can be lonely. And if you have difficulties being alone, that solitude can push people into relationships as a means of escape. Perhaps the mindset of seeking a reprieve from the temporary nature of life in Dubai contributes to the difficulties of dating here.”

“Grindset culture is pretty hardcore in Dubai. And I think that mentality leads to alienation from others — competition at the cost of cooperation, at the cost of community. Especially when the cost of living squeezes ever more tightly, many people are pushed into a scarcity mindset rather than an abundance mindset. It’s not a surprise when people value success, status, or productivity over relationships. How much leisure time does the average person in Dubai really have — time for friends, hobbies, creativity, or expression, let alone love? I’m pretty lucky to have a semblance of agency and freedom with my work schedule, but I know I’m in a very small, privileged group.”

“I’ve been in a situation where a relationship slowly started to feel less personal and more strategic. When you’re visible, well-connected, or socially active, people can sometimes gravitate toward what you represent rather than who you are. It’s not easy to recognise in the moment, and it’s even harder to admit to yourself.”

“At some point, you start wishing to meet people who are rooted here as well — people who are not looking for shortcuts, introductions, or leverage, but for something genuine and mutual,” Lava says.

Jin puts it this way: “I wouldn’t say Dubai is vastly different from most other major cities. People need to work to live. Especially if you’re aiming for a certain kind of lifestyle, the city can become very expensive. In that context, prioritising achievement can feel less like ambition and more like necessity, a way to live up to the version of the dream that brought people here in the first place. Maybe that’s why so many people arrive with such intense focus. When you come to a city like Dubai hoping to make it, achievement often becomes the default priority.”

Lava says: “Iranians stick together. Russians stick together. Locals stick together. Big communities date within themselves. I’m Bulgarian — a country of seven million people. I don’t even have Bulgarian friends here. Dating someone Bulgarian is nearly impossible.”

“If you’re Druze, you have to marry Druze. I was accepted by the mother, but the father didn’t even know about me. Obviously, there was no future.”

Lava: “I don’t like dating apps, so that means I have to meet people in person. But meeting people in person in Dubai is so much about nightlife or joining communities built around certain activities — usually sports or fitness. And I’m not into that. I’m not very active. The things I do in life push me to be active digitally, not physically. I’m constantly online, but I don’t want to meet anyone online. I want to meet someone in the real world. And that’s where the clash is. If you don’t fit into those activity-based communities, your options get very limited very fast. So for me, things tend to just happen when they happen. Usually, it’s very instant. If I meet someone, I know. It takes maybe a minute of conversation to understand whether I’m into someone or not — and I’m very rarely into someone.”

“I usually ask whether someone prefers to get to know each other in person or online first. Most say they’d rather meet, so I’ll take them out for dinner. After a day or two of talking, we either meet or I get ghosted. If there’s no reply after one follow-up, I just move on.”

“I work remotely, so I really struggle to meet people in real life. Maybe this is my overly anxious mind at work, but I’m very conscious of not wanting to come across as a creep. I don’t make a move on women I meet during the day, at sports activities or classes. In my head, if I were a woman attending a yoga class, I’d already be on edge about unwanted attention. And I’d be even more annoyed if I couldn’t come back to a place I like because of one uncomfortable interaction.”

“So I mostly meet women at clubs. I am actually a great dancer, and people are generally attracted to people who are having fun. Everyone wants a night with a story at the end of it. Having a mixed-gender friend group makes a massive difference, too. I think women are more open to being approached if they see you’re out with other women as well, not just a table full of guys. There’s already a kind of unspoken social validation there — or at least, that’s how it feels.”