The 3 Rules of the Hometown Holiday Hookup

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine confessed she’d hooked up with her high school ex. By the table’s reactions, you’d think she was admitting to third-degree murder. Raised brows, judgmental martini sips, someone whispering “like… recently?”

It happened during a weekend in October. She and her hometown crew decided to ditch the city in favor of apple cider donuts and the haunted house they loved as kids. They were halfway through the line to the corn maze when she saw him: the ex who made her stomach flip in AP Chem. He was still living ten minutes from home, still wearing that same Patagonia fleece with that same crooked grin. They ditched their friends somewhere between cornstalks and caught up over fried Oreos. Then they walked to the bar where they used to flash their fake IDs. The next thing she knew, they were lip-locked in the backseat of his car—which still smelled of Axe body spray and Backwoods blunts. 

“It was amazing,” she said. “I felt like I was a sophomore in high school again.” But when I teased that they’d be married by next November, her reaction surprised me. “It wasn’t like that,” she shrugged. “We haven’t spoken since… I think it was just nice to remember what having a crush felt like.”

It stuck with me. Because dating in New York right now feels like its own kind of haunted house. Every door leads to someone emotionally avoidant. Every hallway smells like dating apps and disappointment. And just when you think you’ve found something promising, the ghost of “work’s just crazy right now” shows up to soil it.

But my friend’s story was a breath of fresh air amongst the dating despair. Not because she rekindled a connection—but because she didn’t. She simply remembered a time when connection tasted  delicious. Like a one‑night proof of concept. She could still recognize a crush, she could still feel butterflies—even if it came from an ex she no longer envisioned a future with. (Quote: “C’mon, he still lives with his parents.”) 

Regardless, now I’m left wondering: is hooking up with your ex, dare I say it, a good idea? 

I think it can be. So long as you approach it with the right playbook…

Let me preface by saying that not all exes are created equal. The bold, blinking caveat is that it’s never a good idea to resuscitate a toxic relationship. Not the person who put you into therapy. Not the one you still secretly want to marry. You’re after a clean break—connection without the cost. If your heart still sinks when you see his name on Instagram, this advice isn’t for you. 

With that, hooking up with the *right* kind of ex—a familiar face you’ve long since outgrown—has utility. It breaks you out of the monotonous dating loop: Swipe, match, flirt, fade. Whether you’re conscious of it or not, this cycle isn’t just demoralizing—it’s numbing. You start to forget what it even feels like to be excited about someone. That jolt when your eyes meet across a room. The subtle flutter when your knees touch under the table. An internal click that happens when you’re not performing, not chasing—not wondering whether he’s ‘talking’ to  three other people. 

This is what reuniting with an ex can offer. It won’t give you a future, but it might bring you back to your past. That feeling of comfortable connection when the stakes are low and the chemistry’s high. It’s a momentary reset where you can stop playing defense and just…be. Enjoy the moment. And if you can hold on to that—if you’re not secretly hoping for more—you leave with exactly what you came for: a spark to bring home. A little voltage to plug back into your dating life. (And remind you why you signed up for the apps in the first place). The best part? It doesn’t need a label or a morning-after brunch.

Which brings me to the matter at hand: how to properly execute. Here’s what I’d keep in mind before jumping into bed—or a backseat—with an ex over the holidays. 

This cannot be overstated. Not all exes are eligible. This is not your shot at closure with the person who gave you an eating disorder junior year. Not the ex you still hope will text on your birthday. Definitely not the one who still elicits a gut punch when you pass by his house. You're looking for the safe ex—the person you don’t really think about until you’re back in town, eating mac and cheese out of your parents’ fridge. Someone who once made your stomach flip, but no longer holds emotional real estate. The stakes should be exactly zero.

This only works if you treat it like a snow globe: temporary, self-contained, beautiful for what it is. No week-long love affairs. No, “we should do this again next time you’re home.” No Instagram DMs that spiral into constant contact. What’s most important is that you’re on the same page. If you sense that he’s hoping for more, walk away. Please don’t cause collateral damage because you’re sick of swiping. The goal is: You both have your moment. Feels good. The end. The value comes from the connection, not the continuation.

At one point, your feelings for this person felt real. But they’re no longer your present—and you moved on for a reason. This is about revisiting a version of yourself you forgot: open, carefree and comfortable. Let that be the takeaway. Don’t start mentally rerouting your life to accommodate his Zip code. Don’t start promoting his dead-end band. Really, just try to avoid mistaking familiarity for compatibility. This isn’t supposed to be a preview. It’s a feeling you can pocket for the future.