A New York Times article on the recent rise of dating coaches offers this rejoinder to critics of the practice:
“We have business coaches, dietitians, accountants, but we don't have an expert for our love life?” said Lisa Clampitt, a dating coach and a founder of the Matchmaking Institute, which trains matchmakers in Manhattan. “It doesn't make sense. It is really the single most important aspect in our life.”
Once a week, I go to some guy's house and pay him a fairly significant sum of money so he can tell me in which order I should pluck strings on my guitar. I would like to learn to play guitar well. But it's nowhere near as central to my happiness as my lovelife. Yet I'm allowed -- even praised -- for seeking expert guidance there, but would be roundly shamed if I sought a dating coach.
The idea that folks who need a bit of coaching or advice on these matters are painted as pathetic and weird has always struck me as deeply unfair. This idea that our romantic lives should be organic and spontaneous is rather nice, but for some folks, quite unlikely, and for others, quite self-deceptive. Most of us, after all, have had dating coaches: An older sibling, or a charismatic friend, or an honest lover. That society suggests those who haven't had free guides or good luck should be too ashamed to seek outside help is pretty cruel.
