So, He Just Liked 10 Of Your Posts In A Row. Here's What Floodliking Means In Filipino Dating

So, you just started talking casually with a new person. It's definitely nothing serious yet—just replies, jokes, a few late-night messages that maybe make you smile while doing mundane things like chores. Then one day, after you become mutuals, you both find yourselves scrolling through each other's profiles, liking their old posts like it's completely normal.

You know it's happening, they know it's happening, and it feels both thrilling (and let's be real, slightly ridiculous, because you've reached their posts from literal years ago).

Welcome to floodliking.

Unlike the classic "oops, I accidentally liked a photo from 2018, I need to delete my Instagram and let the ground swallow my whole" scenario, this kind of floodliking isn't a mistake or a slip of the thumb. Most of the time, it's a joke-y moment you both clock immediately. You notice it. They notice it. No one says anything, but everyone understands what's happening.

And btw, this isn't to be confused with floodlighting, when someone shares too much, too soon, in an attempt to force a connection or create a false sense of intimacy with a potential partner.

Floodliking is when you and the person you're newly talking to start liking multiple old posts on each other's profiles, usually right after you become mutuals. It's rarely one-sided. More often than not, it happens while you're actively chatting—when you're both scrolling, both curious, and both (v chronically) online.

It's less about accidentally liking old photos and more about that shared, unspoken "Okay, so we're doing this now" phase of dating. The likes come in quick succession—just enough to be noticeable, but not enough to require an explanation.

Well, part of it is curiosity. When you start liking someone, you want context—not in a serious way, just enough to get a feel for them outside your conversations. You also want to see who they were before meeting or getting into a talking stage with you—their interests, where they hang out, and their personality. Instagram becomes the easiest place to do that, especially when asking questions still feels too direct.

It's playful and non-commital. And because it usually happens on both sides, it feels safe. You're not putting yourself out there alone; you're responding to energy that's already being returned.

It doesn't even have to be someone you're already talking to. Sometimes it's a stranger who jsut started following you—or a new mutual you haven't met IRL yet—who starts liking post after post. In that case, floodliking becomes an opener, a way to prompt you to message them first. It's basically the digital equivalent of saying hi without actually saying it.

There's also something very Filipino about how indirect it is. Instead of saying, "I'm interested," you flood their page with likes. Instead of acknowledging it, you both move on as if nothing happened. It's all pakiramdaman—a way of reading the room without saying anything out loud.

And because you're already talking, the likes become part of the conversation without actually entering it. The posts you both see can also serve as talking points as you discuss your pasts. Sometimes they even turn into an inside joke later on, something you both laugh about once things feel more comfortable.

It's just one of those modern dating moments that only makes sense if you've been there—an IYKYK moment, if you will. It's not embarrassing, and it's most definitely not accidental. It's just a small, shared signal that lets them know you see them and you're very, very interested.