Does Sex And The City’s cab light theory still make sense in 2025?

If you’ve been on the apps lately, you might have noticed this very specific breed of men, the ones whose bios say “open to something long-term, but also open to something casual,” which essentially translates to “I am emotionally unavailable but too self-aware to admit it.” He’ll throw in a vague quote like “just going with the flow” or, worse, a humble-brag about being “the type who sometimes disappears”. He is, somehow, both “figuring things out” and “working on himself,” a walking contradiction with a gym mirror selfie and an opinion on matcha (it’s okay, we have all been a victim of this).

You’ll see him for a few days, and it’ll feel like the start of something special. He’ll send you obscure indie songs at two in the morning, say things like “This reminded me of you,” and “I’ve never felt this kind of connection in years.” He’ll talk about his childhood dog and how he’s only cried once in the last decade, when his ex left him for someone else. By day three, he’s quoting Rumi, rapping Mac Miller and opening up about his healing journey.

You’ll think, maybe this time is different. And then suddenly, he’s gone. Not ghosted, exactly—he’s too evolved for that. He’ll send a soft goodbye text about how “you’re amazing, truly,” but he’s “just not in the right headspace.” You’ll be tempted to believe him. Because he says it gently like he’s saving you from himself.

But cut to three months later, and he’s hard-launching a new relationship on Instagram with a girl who looks suspiciously like she drinks green juice and does pilates every morning. Now, you’re left staring at your phone, wondering: Wasn’t he the one who said he couldn’t do relationships? Wasn’t he still haunted by his ex from 2018?

The cab light theory

In one of the episodes of Sex and the City, Miranda Hobbes summed it up best: “When they’re available, their light goes on. They wake up one day and decide they’re ready to settle down, have babies, whatever, and they turn their light on. The next woman they pick up—boom! That’s the woman they marry. It’s not fate. It’s dumb luck.” 

And honestly? Not much has changed.

When SATC introduced the “cab light theory,” it was an analogy that captured something universally maddening about dating cishet men: they don’t always date the right person, but the person who happens to come along when their metaphorical “available for a relationship” light turns on.

This theory didn’t necessarily paint men as evil. Just… timed. It suggested that relationships, especially in the early 2000s, were more about a man being ready than just compatibility. Right person, wrong time? You were simply standing on the curb before his light switched on. In a pre-therapy-speak dating culture, it gave women a language to explain the senselessness of it all.

Why would a man date you intensely and suddenly marry the next woman he meets? Why he’d tell you he “wasn’t ready,” only to be engaged six months later. The theory framed relationships not as destiny or chemistry, but mainly based on timing. Linear, practical, emotionally stunted timing. 

Does the "readiness" concept still apply in 2025?

Here’s the twist: the cab light still exists, but the bulbs have changed. Today’s version of the man whose cab light is “off” is often indistinguishable from the one whose light is flickering (which is, honestly, most men at this point). He might go to therapy, read feminist literature (performatively, I must say), and acknowledge his emotional patterns, yet still be incapable of showing up for something real. That’s where performative availability enters the conversation. 

Performative availability vs emotional unavailability

Performative availability is the 2025 equivalent of the cab light being on; by this, I mean, only for Instagram, not in reality. He says all the right things. He appears emotionally intelligent. But when it comes to real vulnerability, consistency, or accountability? He’s still just as absent. The only difference is now he knows what he’s doing, and he’ll cite inner child work to explain it. Instead of just being emotionally closed off, men now dress it up with healing language that might intrigue and interest women. And because it sounds so mature, it’s harder to call out. 

The key difference between emotional unavailability then and now is that men today know the vocabulary of vulnerability. And that makes it harder to call out. When a guy in 2005 ghosted you, you knew where you stood. When a guy in 2025 says, “I’m just trying to honour my nervous system,” you hesitate, not because it makes sense, but because it sounds like it might.

And the worst part is, because it’s so subtle, it leaves you second-guessing yourself. You wonder if you were too impatient, too intense, too much. When in reality, you weren’t being met. You were being manipulated, softly, sweetly, and skillfully.

Why the cab light theory still (kinda) works

Even with all the changes in dating, the therapy talk, being mindful of their choices, and curated personas, the core pattern, honestly, still remains the same: he doesn’t commit to you, then quickly settles down with someone else.

The reasons have shifted. It’s not always about wanting marriage or children anymore. Sometimes, it’s burnout from dating apps, pressure from friends getting engaged, or just wanting stability after years of indecision. The switch flips, not because he’s grown, but because he’s tired or maybe just wants to fit in.

So yes, the cab light theory still makes sense. It’s still about timing. The issue isn’t that women don’t know what they want; it’s that many men still confuse surface-level self-awareness with actual readiness. In the 2000s, readiness meant adulthood milestones. Today, it might just mean feeling left behind. The theory holds up, but the triggers have changed.

The truth is: readiness has always been about choice, not time. Some people choose to commit when it’s convenient. Or when the right person shows up after you. That doesn’t mean you weren’t enough. It just means they weren’t ready until they were, even if that was one month down the line. 

Lead Image: IMDb

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