Let’s start with what I like about Tinder.
For one thing, you can’t send pictures. This is nice on two levels: one, no unwanted nudity and two, no pathetically objectifying pleas for nudes. Also, I have reported someone and then later heard them complain about getting their account blocked. So, at least that works. But, that’s . . . all I can think of.
On to the stuff I don’t like.
Every weirdo who wants nudes just asks for your snap and immediately sends you all those awful pictures from which you were so grateful to Tinder for shielding you from. And, that reporting feature isn’t so effective when the person with the blocked account can immediately make another one or five. And they always do. I’ve reported one guy 10 times in one week as his new profiles kept coming through my feed (or whatever Tinder wants me to call it).
However, all of these things are surface issues. The conversations are hard to start and harder to maintain. The first meetings are awkward and scary. The whole process is demeaning, especially bio writing. I never feel stupider than when I’m trying to describe myself to an unknowable mass of potential romantic or sexual partners. And then there’s the part of this where you actually have to speak to the randos. Most of the messages I have received from men have been dehumanizingly sexual, and most of the conversations I’ve had with women have ended with a ghost. I won’t try to speak for anyone else but this sort of treatment slowly wears away at my self-worth. I’m a human being, not just a set of holes, and I never thought of myself as a bad conversationalist until I was unable to find anything interesting to say to the 450th person on Tinder. Also, why do so many people swipe right and then never say anything? What are they doing that’s more important than validating me?
That brings me to the reason I’m discussing all this. For one thing, other dating apps are relatively empty. Everyone has a Tinder; not everyone has a Hinge. Using a different dating app limits my options. But, that doesn’t encompass the entirety of the question. Why am I on dating apps at all? I don’t really think I’m going to meet anyone on there who will become important to me. The whole thing is too much of a hassle. It stresses me out. Frankly, I’ve accepted that I’m going to die alone. I already have cats. But, it’s addictive to be told I’m pretty. Even though it’s mostly just drunk men at 2 A.M. messaging me graphic descriptions of what they plan to do to me, at least I know I’m desirable. God, this is turning out way more depressing than I expected. Also, I match with a lot of people who seem crazy and just ask them about themselves. It’s fascinating and it helps stave off the creeping loneliness. Well, I really wanted to end this on a humorous note, so . . . dick pics, amirite?