In a world where love supposedly conquers all, it appears that I have one formidable opponent standing in the way: the immigration office. 

Once upon a time, the navy blue booklet embossed with a majestic eagle was a golden ticket to a romance worldwide. It was a beacon of power, a declaration that I, an American citizen, could waltz through immigration lines with the confidence of someone whose country once dictated global affairs with impunity.

But now?

The once-mighty United States passport has taken a tumble down the Henley Passport Index. Back in 2014, we were at the top, tied with our frenemy the United Kingdom, that one distant cousin we still pretend we’re besties with despite centuries of passive-aggressive Fourth of July celebrations. We were powerful and desirable — the main character of global travel!

Now? We’re in ninth place. 

Ninth place might not sound so bad until you realize that 29 other countries now have better passports than ours. That’s 29 nations whose citizens have an easier time traveling, dating and charming their way across international borders. 

What does that mean for us Seawolves? It means our love lives are over. My love life is over. 

Back when the U.S. passport was elite, my mere nationality was an asset. The promise of seamless travel made me a catch. 

“Oh, you want a vacation to Europe?” I could say to a potential partner, casually leaning over the armrests of unstable airport chairs as they wait to board their flight. “Don’t worry. I don’t need a visa.” Surely, they’ve been seduced by this charisma! 

But now? Now, I have to jump through hoops like a circus animal just to get past border control. Instead of smooth-talking my way into someone’s heart over a candle-lit dinner in a place that I can’t pronounce correctly without offending someone, I’m stuck at home, forced to type, “Hey, do you have WhatsApp?” because my potential partner lives in a country that’s now out of my financial reach. 

I’m trying to maximize my screen time on WhatsApp so it matches the time I spend on TikTok watching travel videos of places I could have visited with someone cute. I have my priorities straight, but clearly some people aren’t paying attention.

Let’s be real: dating is expensive without adding international travel and visa fees to the equation. Inflation has made cooking an omelet for my date feel like a major financial investment. 

I suppose I could pay with Klarna while I DoorDash a pizza, but nothing screams “I’m financially stable!” like a loan on my credit report to pay off the $18.99 stuffed crust pizza from Domino’s. 

And, don’t even get me started on the price of flights. My go-to airline was Southwest Airlines, but they just changed their checked-luggage policy to something so incomprehensible that it feels like the world is actively trying to tell me to date on the Stony Brook University subreddit.

I get it, but I don’t like it! Now, with additional visa fees and more travel restrictions, the barriers to love have never been higher. 

The Republican Party, the current political party in government, encourages marriage and family values, right? Well, how am I supposed to marry rich people in another country if I can’t even get there? I was ready to find an attractive person with old money and generational wealth. But now, thanks to America’s declining passport power, my gold-digging aspirations have crumbled away, just like my investments in the stock market. 

Instead of facing accusations of being a gold digger from my future partner’s family and friends, I’m left swiping on locals. 

Locals who describe New Yorkers that live upward of Bronx, N.Y. as people from upstate when really they live in Westchester, N.Y. Locals whose idea of culture is having college students race in cardboard boats across a man-made pond that looks like the color of Shrek’s skin. Locals who think international cuisine means purchasing a California roll and lo mein with orange chicken from Jasmine. Locals who believe finding a date on the University’s subreddit is a viable strategy, only to realize the dating pool and social life is as barren as campus is on any weekend — it’s frustrating! 

If America truly supported love, family values and the sanctity of marriage, they would be taking action right now. They’d be launching emergency passport ranking recovery missions, fixing our global reputation and subsidizing our international romance efforts.

But, here I am. A silly, lonely, little American, trapped within the borders of my own country, longing for the international romance that my government has made impossible. 

And all because my passport isn’t sexy anymore.