On Valentine’s Day, performance artist Harriet Richardson conducted an 18-hour marathon of human interaction, engaging in 100 consecutive five-minute dates via Zoom. The project, titled "100 Dates," was not merely a feat of digital endurance but a calculated exploration of sex and love addiction, a condition Richardson has lived with for over half of her life. By condensing months of potential romantic pursuit into a single, grueling day, Richardson aimed to deconstruct the mechanics of infatuation and provide a public window into the complexities of limerence and emotional dependency. Defining the Scope of Sex and Love Addiction Sex and love addiction is frequently misunderstood by the general public, often conflated with hypersexuality or a lack of impulse control. Richardson, who identified as an addict at the age of 20, describes the condition as an obsession with the "concept" of a person rather than a physical urge. For Richardson, the addiction manifests as an all-consuming need to find an "idol" to whom she can dedicate her thoughts and life’s purpose. The clinical term for this state of intense romantic infatuation is "limerence," a concept first coined by psychologist Dorothy Tennov in 1979. It involves intrusive thoughts, an acute longing for reciprocation, and the tendency to idealize the object of affection. Richardson’s history reflects this pattern; she notes that her 30 years of life can be categorized into chapters named after the men she was infatuated with at the time. Despite the "sex and love addiction" label, Richardson clarifies that her sexual history is relatively modest, with 14 partners—a fact she uses to illustrate that her struggle is rooted in emotional consumption rather than physical quantity. The Evolution of "100 Dates" as Performance Art The 2025 iteration of "100 Dates" was the second time Richardson performed this specific durational piece. The first occurred in 2024, during a period when Richardson felt isolated within a failing relationship. At that time, the project served as a validation tool to prove she was not as alone as she felt. However, the most recent performance was conducted through the lens of recovery. Richardson has been in therapy and had maintained eight months of celibacy leading up to the event, seeking to engage with people in a way that did not trigger her habitual cycle of obsession. The logistics of the event were rigorous. On February 9, Richardson opened a sign-up link to the public, welcoming participants of all genders, orientations, and relationship statuses. The criteria were broad, inviting "exes, singletons, old flames, and people I’ve accidentally ghosted." Preparation involved extensive meal-prepping and technical rehearsals to ensure the 18-hour broadcast remained uninterrupted. Chronology of the 18-Hour Marathon The performance followed a strict schedule designed to test the limits of social interaction: 08:00 AM: The first date commenced. Richardson utilized a five-minute format for each participant, followed by a five-minute "comfort break" for essential needs such as eating and hygiene. Midday: By noon, Richardson’s Oura ring—a biometric tracking device—indicated that she had reached her daily walking goal, despite having remained seated for four hours. This data point highlights the physiological stress and high heart rate associated with continuous social performance. 04:00 PM: The "peak" of the event, where digital traffic and participant engagement were at their highest. Observers noted the shift from enthusiastic engagement to visible signs of fatigue. 02:45 AM (Next Day): Richardson concluded her 105th date, having added extra slots to account for no-shows. Upon closing her laptop, she experienced an immediate emotional release, characterized by exhausted, happy tears. Physiological and Psychological Impact The physical toll of the performance was significant. Richardson reported being bedridden for a week following the event. The symptoms of this "humanity overdose" included skin breakouts, mouth ulcers resulting from nearly 20 hours of continuous speech, and profound cognitive exhaustion. Psychologically, however, the performance yielded a shift in Richardson’s internal narrative. In previous years, she admitted to "performing" a version of herself designed to win approval—a common trait in love addiction known as "people-pleasing" or "fawning." In the 2025 version, she prioritized authenticity, reacting naturally even when she did not click with a participant. This shift marked a milestone in her recovery, moving away from the need to be "consumed" by the other person’s perception of her. Data and Observations on Modern Dating Patterns While the performance was an individual study, it provided broader insights into the current state of digital intimacy and the "attention economy." Richardson’s project mirrors a growing trend in digital culture where individuals engage in "extreme" durational challenges to garner attention or explore social boundaries. Examples include high-profile YouTubers who conduct massive social experiments or influencers who broadcast their private lives for extended periods. From the 105 dates conducted, Richardson identified several key observations: Attraction Metrics: Richardson felt a genuine interest in approximately 10% of the participants. Shift in "Type": Unlike her previous patterns, which favored "mysterious" or emotionally inaccessible partners, she found herself drawn to individuals who demonstrated self-awareness and emotional maturity. The "Mousetrap" Realization: Richardson identified one participant who shared the exact traits of an ex-boyfriend—traits she now recognizes as a precursor to toxic dependency. She described this as realizing a "mousetrap" before stepping into it. Broader Implications for Mental Health and Art Richardson’s work sits at the intersection of performance art and self-help, using the public eye as a mechanism for accountability. By framing her addiction as a performance, she strips away the "terrible branding" of sex and love addiction, presenting it instead as a universal struggle for connection in an increasingly digital world. The project also addresses the "loneliness epidemic" cited by various global health organizations. The fact that 100 strangers were willing to light candles, dress up, and prepare questions for a five-minute Zoom call with a stranger suggests a profound collective desire for visibility. Richardson noted that the dates felt like a shared effort "to be seen or happy or loved." Analysis of Recovery and Future Outlook For Richardson, the recovery from sex and love addiction is a lifelong management process rather than a cured state. She compares the addiction to a child’s craving for sweets: "They can have a few, but not the whole shop." The durational dating performance served as a controlled environment to test her "sugar intake"—allowing for brief, structured connections without the opportunity for the "Wuthering Heights-level obsession" that previously defined her life. The decision to remain celibacy post-performance underscores the seriousness of her recovery. Richardson maintains that she will continue her period of abstinence until she feels capable of relating to others in a healthy, non-obsessive manner. The "100 Dates" project, therefore, serves as both a diagnostic tool for her progress and a public testament to the difficulty of navigating modern romance while managing a mental health condition. Conclusion Harriet Richardson’s "100 Dates" is a significant contribution to the contemporary discourse on addiction and digital intimacy. By turning her personal struggle into a durational performance, she challenges the stigma surrounding sex and love addiction while highlighting the exhausting nature of the search for connection. As she continues her recovery, the data gathered from her 18-hour marathon provides a unique perspective on the intersection of art, physiology, and the human heart’s capacity for both obsession and genuine connection. Through the exhaustion and the mouth ulcers, Richardson’s work suggests that while the road to healthy relating is arduous, it is possible to break the cycle of consumption and find value in the brief, authentic moments shared with others.
