Have you ever had a celebrity crush so intense it low-key felt like a real relationship? I haven’t just had a few crushes — I’ve fully spiraled into delusion, scrolling through fan edits at 2 a.m. and genuinely believing he might be my future husband. But dating someone famous-adjacent? It’s not just a wild fantasy anymore — it’s, like, kind of plausible, especially with Raya.
Yes, that Raya — the exclusive, members-only dating app you’ve probably heard whispers about on podcasts or in random TikToks. And yes, it’s where people in the “industry” swipe. After being stuck on the waitlist for over a year, I finally got the acceptance email and obviously had to see what the hype was about. So, I re-downloaded it, and I won’t lie: it’s weirdly validating yet mildly terrifying.
Suddenly, you’re not matching with frat guys or your hometown situationships anymore. You’re seeing touring musicians, actors with legit IMDb pages, and way-too-handsome creatives who say things like: “I split my time between LA and Paris.” Trying out Raya felt less like a dating app and more like digital people-watching at a very chic party I wasn’t entirely invited to. It’s chaotic, exciting, and more layered than I expected. So here’s what happened when I — just your average girl with too many Pinterest boards — tried Raya as a Gen Zer.
It’s pretty expensive for a dating app.
Okay, so here’s the part no one talks about: Raya costs mad money. I was completely blindsided when I was setting up my profile. I thought I was just dipping a toe in — seeing what the hype was about — but the second I hit “confirm,” I realized I’d just dropped $25. Not your typical $9.99-a-month dating app. This is luxury-tier pricing.
I’m a recent college grad, fresh into the real world, trying to make this weird little summer hustle work. Rent’s due, my AC unit’s barely hanging on, and suddenly I’m debating whether it’s worth skipping a meal to pay for this. Spoiler: I did — one month. Just to see.
And if you want Raya Plus (AKA more swipes and fewer restrictions), prepare to cough up even more. I shelled out for one month just to see what the fuss was about — but unless my next match is Jacob Elordi or Tyler, the Creator, I’m probably letting my subscription go idle. Because honestly? The app is cool, but the price tag screams “Trust Fund Baby,” and I’m over here budgeting for my next apartment.
I loved setting up my profile.
I’m actually kind of obsessed with how it works. It’s not overloaded with photos, but you still get to give off a vibe. You can list your job, drop your IG, link your website, share where you live, and even note where you’re always jetting off to. You can also add upcoming travel plans — both the where and when — which makes connecting on the go way easier.
The interests section is super detailed, so people come across as more than just hot selfies and two emojis. And my favorite part? You don’t just pick one go-to song — you can curate a whole playlist of what you’re currently listening to (and it’s not just scraped from Spotify, which I love). If you’ve got Plus, there’s even a “Places” section that’s kind of genius.
You can toggle between dating and friends mode. I currently have mine set to dating, but the “just friends” setting is solid too. Both modes are easy to navigate, though results can be… iffy.
It’s kind of hard to get matches.
I’ve been on the app for a couple of weeks now, and I still haven’t received a single pairing. Like, radio silence. At this point, I’m basically speed-liking every profile during my twice-a-day swipe sessions just to see if the algorithm is broken or if I am. TBH, it’s probably both. You are able to send direct requests with a personal note as well; however, you’re limited to five overall.
For an app that’s supposed to be next-gen, it kinda feels like no one got the memo.
With such a high price tag, it honestly feels like no one’s really active — and yet you’re still paying a premium. Who cares about ghosting when you’re scrolling through a ghost town? Half the profiles look curated to perfection, but they’re clearly not being checked. For an app that’s supposed to be next-gen, it kinda feels like no one got the memo. Everyone looks amazing, sure — but if no one’s matching, chatting, or even logging in… what’s the point? Am I here to connect or just vibe alone with my aesthetic profile and zero notifications?
Because of this, a lot of people still want you to reach out on IG DMs like it’s 2018 — as if I’m not already deep in celebs’ inboxes (kidding… mostly). It’s wild. We left dating apps to avoid DM roulette, and somehow we’re right back at square one.
You can’t take any screenshots.
No screenshots. Like, literally. Your phone will hit you with a warning the second you try. And reports of inappropriate or improper advances? They can get you removed from the app. That’s one of the first things you’ll notice on Raya: it’s all about keeping things lowkey and respectful. I actually kind of love that.
Raya really prides itself on the community it builds. It’s not just another swipe-right app — it’s super selective (and yeah, the waitlist is basically purgatory). But once you’re in, it genuinely feels like a secret club where people actually get it. Everyone’s vibing, sharing their work, playlists, and travel plans. It’s creative, it’s chill, it’s respectful.
The whole no-screenshot rule sets the tone for not turning everything into content. For an app filled with creatives, public figures, and people who’ve definitely had a blue check at some point, that boundary feels intentional. There’s less pressure to curate for an audience, and more freedom to just be.
It’s way more about connection than clout. And sure, it’s a trip to casually scroll past people you’ve seen on your FYP or Netflix queue — but what’s cool is that no one’s really flexing. The vibe isn’t “look who I matched with,” it’s more “we’re all here, let’s connect.”
Yes, there are real celebrities on Raya.
No, you’re not hallucinating. No, it’s not a fan account. Raya has actual celebrities just roaming around like it’s a casual Tuesday. We’re talking movie stars, pro athletes, chart-topping musicians, and viral content creators, all just there.
You’re scrolling, and suddenly someone you’ve seen on your FYP or in an HBO show is just… swipeable. It messes with your brain a little.
I’ve seen Lewis Capaldi casually existing like he’s not Lewis Capaldi. I went to a baseball game last week, and of course, Romy González from the Red Sox popped up on my feed — after the game, naturally. Elias Kacavas? Literal heartthrob energy. And when QCP showed up all, “what’s cookin’?” — pun obviously intended — I nearly dropped my phone. When I sent my pickup line, I went all in: “If we match, I’d be the happiest Italian girl, betch.” No notes. Oscar-worthy delivery. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
It’s kind of surreal. You’re scrolling, and suddenly someone you’ve seen on your FYP or in an HBO show is just… swipeable. It messes with your brain a little. Like, am I supposed to pretend I didn’t just see you on the red carpet yesterday?
The most fun part is just seeing what happens when you step into a world you never thought you’d get access to. No, I haven’t met my future famous husband… yet. But honestly, that’s part of the appeal. The exclusivity is real. If you’re bold enough to shoot your shot, go for it. Just know: if your Raya match history looks more like a Spotify “Recently Played” list than an actual conversation thread, you’re not alone. We’re all out here trying.