Pitching up on the first day of Uni I remember waving my parents goodbye, staring down at the empty bed in my new room and thinking “Right, now where’s the boy to fill it?”
As freshers wore on, this newfound freedom grew dull and in a matter of weeks my friends and I found ourselves looking for something more. Being so far from home left us searching for a sense security that just couldn’t be found on a Wednesday night in Gravity (even if we did turn up religiously with the hope the same lacrosse boy as last week would buy us a VK.)
Winter came around and before I knew it, cuffing season was upon us. I laughed at everyone rushing into relationships across halls with people they’d known for barely a month, but deep down, I wanted someone to go to the formals with, get drunk, and cuddle up in my less-than-single single bed.
The idea of downloading Tinder felt somewhat daunting, even shameful. Rebelling against the idea that I ‘needed a man’ when surely, I should be focusing on my degree as a future independent and successful businesswoman? I repressed my needs and Tinder became merely a chance to bully boys.
The game commenced approximately forty minutes before dinner was served. The girls would gather up, set our locations to 0.0 miles, match with/super like all the boys possible, and go down to dinner early. We would sit and pathetically wait for boys to enter the dining hall, seductively watching them and dramatically winking before bursting out in hysterics. It was cruel but the boys were also mean, sending their room numbers and a time to arrive, as opposed to a “hello, I think you’re the love of my life”, or whatever I wished they’d said.
As First Years we were all deluded to think those games would last more than a month. Why? Because so many people are out there looking for love. I realized was being scared. Visions of bumping into bad first dates on Woodland Road, or having to awkwardly ride down Whiteladies to the W.G Grace with my Wills date where we would proceed to come across every single one of my course mates, are symptoms of the overthinking that shook me.
Yes, Tinder is a risky business. My inner snob would spend hours swiping left on local builders, any man from UWE, and non-students who surely attended Pam Pam on a Saturday night. But many of my friends have proved me wrong – there are loads of eligible bachelors in Bristol who just want to take a girl out for a nice time.
If you are like me though, still cynical of Tinder and despairing at finding ways to respond to “baby girl” or “you snack” messages, there is an alternative. The revelation to student dating which goes by the name of Hinge.
Targeted at the younger generation, connections are made through profiles consisting of a photo and witty comment/question for you to respond. As funny, attractive, intelligent, Russell Group women surely this is our area of expertise. Bantering back and forth with like-minded partners makes the prospect of a relationship innovating and, more importantly, dating once again exciting.
Online dating doesn’t have to be tiresome chore or military operation. It should be exhilarating and mark the beginning of your twenties; a decade created from Sex and the City, banker boys and roof top night clubs. So start now, stop hanging around the water fountain in the ASS waiting for the love of your life and empower yourself to take action online.