What Do You Bring to the Table?
Photo: scottbroomephotography
An exercise in missing the point entirely
There’s a phrase that's floating around modern dating culture like a buzzword, sticky from overuse, covered in dust and fruit flies: “What do you bring to the table?”
You’ll see it in dating app bios. In the man-o-sphere. In TikToks with split-screen debates. In comments sections that turn into some sort of gender-on-gender battleground. It’s framed like a question of standards, of self-worth, of not “settling” for less.
And maybe that’s what it means to say.
It's trying to assert the notion that neither side is willing to settle anymore because they've done so much work on themselves and have risen to such a high standard that they've earned the right to be choosy in a way that previous generations just wouldn't understand.
But if we scratch beneath the surface, I think it’s revealing something else entirely.
The phrase likely originated in the world of business and negotiation, where “bringing something to the table” meant having something of value to contribute or negotiate with. Skills. Resources. Leverage. It's entirely transactional. Strategic. Competitive.
But somewhere along the line, this language jumped out of the briefcase and made its way into our relationships.
And maybe that’s the first red flag. 🚩
Because when we talk about romantic love—real love, the type of deep partnership so many people claim to be looking for—as though it’s a business deal, we start to forget that people are… you know… people.
Not products. Not things. Not something to be negotiated or contracted out. They aren’t bullet-pointed resumes or curated brands. They’re not “assets” to acquire or roles to fill. They’re living, changing, complicated and contradictory physical and spiritual beings.
So, in the context of modern dating, when someone asks, “What do you bring to the table?” they’re usually not asking about compatibility, shared vision, or emotional capacity. They're not looking for a bond based on a deep emotional, intellectual, and spiritual connection. They're not trying to feel into your soul and see if they can find a place of solace there.
They’re asking for proof of worth.
They’re asking you to pitch the skills you're willing to offer up to them in what can only be a blatantly transactional relationship. Tit for tat. Quid pro quo. What's your credit score? Do you have any assets that will enrich my life in some way? You do the laundry, the dishes, and all the cooking, and I promise not to cheat on you?
Sounds horrifying.
The question itself is a red flag and speaks volumes about the person asking it. 🚩 🚩 🚩
We've forgotten somehow that love isn’t about comparison charts or checklists. It’s not about “what you bring” to each other—at least not in that rigid, capitalistic sense. It’s about what you can build together. The table isn’t a static thing you show up to with your glittering offerings; it’s something you claim and carve out of life and paint and repair together over time. It’s mismatched chairs and secondhand dishes and dinner that you maybe burned a little. It’s shared stories. It’s presence.
Yes, we all need boundaries. Yes, we all deserve reciprocity. But the way this phrase gets used? It’s often a way to mask fear, control, or ego. It centers lack. It reduces people to performance.
And in a time when so many of us are craving real connection—messy, flawed, vulnerable connection—I think it’s worth asking better questions.
Not “What do you bring to the table?”
But What kind of table do we want to sit at together? What are we hungry for? What are we willing to share? What kind of life could we build together? What would it feel like when we just allow each other to be?
Marriage rates are dropping because marriage isn’t the contractual necessity it once was. Women have the freedom to support themselves, and that means many of them are choosing to opt out of the arrangement entirely. And that’s a great thing. The world has changed for the better in that respect, it’s time that the discourse around heterosexual marriage and relationships changes along with it.