1. The Absolute Anarchy of the Average Profile
Every time I log onto Tinder, I spend about two minutes to swipe left consecutively, then exit the app in a disappointed, frustrated, and vaguely disgusted fashion. This happens within the span of two minutes because of the sheer amount of profiles that include two or more of the following dating profile missteps:
no bio
a bio exclusively of emojis
a bio that already demands something from me, including but not limited to:
“Swipe left/right if…”
“Looking for a girl who…”
“never on here hmu on snap/insta”
“My dream girl is…”
a photo with someone who might, potentially, probably be their ex
a photo that is just of their dog
a photo that is just of their car
Other offenses, for me personally: selfies taken at the Man Angle (i.e. the front camera either held much too low or much too high in relation to the face—both angles make me feel like I’m Facetiming my grandma who doesn’t quite understand where the camera is on her phone); a series of photos in which they are always wearing a hat (Hatfish: a man who wears a hat at all times, but looks drastically different without a hat). If men can make superficial dating app rules about SnapChat filters and makeup, then I can make my own rules about angles and hats.
2. Super Likes Are Creepy
They just are. Please just swipe right and continue about your day. If I like you, we’ll match. I’m put off by your impatience.
Super Likes give off a peculiar energy; you literally know nothing about me, other than several purposefully flattering photos and a bio of 500 characters max. What expectations did you just project onto those tactful photos and three-hundred-some characters that made you so enthusiastic to match with me?
Perhaps this is my own issue with past people making me into their “manic pixie dream girl” (hence my satirical manicpixiememequeen), but whenever someone shows too much interest in me prematurely, I feel like it’s not just an innocent, genuine interest in getting to know me, but an already established belief that I can assist with their own character development while they ignore my lack of true personhood.
Then I swipe left.
3. The Commitment Conundrum
Specifically on Bumble, you can note what you’re looking for: something serious, something casual, or “I’m not sure.” You can also note your attitude about kids: have kids, don’t have kids, want kids, or “I’m not sure.” I deleted Bumble because of the number of men who “don’t know what they’re looking for” but simultaneously “want kids.”
Counterintuitively, many men will be wary of commitment, but be 100% sound in their desire to be a father. So you want a child, but you’re confused as to whether or not you’re ready for a relationship?
Google sperm donation. It’ll be the hands-off experience you’re looking for.
4. The Breath Test
Long story short: bad breath is a showstopper.
When you meet someone in real life (okay, maybe not so much anymore because six feet and masks have kept other peoples’ foul breath to themselves), you can tell when they need an Altoid. Online, you can’t tell if the person you matched with needs an Altoid—or worse, a Listerine strip!—and that gives me anxiety.
Can Tinder add a “breath test” function?
5. Untranslatable Chemistry
One time I met someone at a silly Halloween party. Upon first glance, he wasn’t really my type, but once we started talking with each other, laughing, and jokingly queueing songs, I had this immediate attraction to him. Maybe it was his confidence and humor and our bizarrely comfortable witty banter—regardless of the (truly inexplicable) reason, we had undoubted chemistry.
On a separate occasion, I met an incredibly compassionate man who was very much my type. I sat at dinner with great conversation over a bottle of Chianti and perfectly al dente pasta, and I wondered why I wasn’t feeing attracted to him. He was courteous, he was smart, he was genuine, he was considerate, and he did everything right.
If you asked me via a dating profile who I would have rather gone out with, I would likely have picked the guy who was my type physically, but attraction doesn’t necessarily translate into chemistry.
Physical chemistry isn’t just based on how attractive someone is—sometimes it just happens. We swipe left; we swipe right. Sometimes you experience chemistry with someone and it is absolutely untranslatable to online dating.
As much as we want to believe that we understand attraction and how to be attractive—attraction is sort of this bizarre, magical thing.
In that magical, butterfly effect sort of way, my parents met in happenstance when my father was picking up his friend and teammate (my mom’s coworker) to go to their club soccer game; my dad saw my mom walk out of the Toys“R”Us office building and into the parking lot. He asked his friend who she was. His friend set them up in June 1994; by January 1996, they were married, and by June 1996, I was born. They celebrated their 25th anniversary earlier this month.
Can a digital landscape replicate synchronicity?
You simply cannot quantify or qualify chemistry in dating profiles. Dating profiles are a great option—especially during the pandemic—but personally, I still struggle with dating apps as the first and only option for people my age. What are we sacrificing for convenience? What are we sacrificing out of impatience? What are we sacrificing out of the fear that if we don’t digitally put ourselves out there, we’ll be alone forever?
Despite all of these qualms, I’m not saying that you can’t meet a significant other via dating apps; I actually know a few couples who dated and got married via Tinder. They have joyous relationships—some with adorable children—and I love that dating apps worked for them. But if dating apps aren’t serving you, don’t be afraid to branch out, or even just allow yourself to enjoy your own company for a while.
Romancing yourself is equally as important as romancing someone else. Buy yourself flowers. Buy yourself really indulgent, homemade chocolate. Watch your favorite movie. Make yourself a meal that reminds you of home. Pop a bottle of good champagne (or prosecco) for no reason at all. Woo yourself. Treat yourself as if you were dating you. Treat yourself as if you were in love with you.
But really, be in love with you.