The Swipe-enning
If you wanna fall in love you gotta leave the house
Slate dot com asked me to fill in for their advice column series Help! Wanted about dating apps. So they asked, I asked, and the editors at Slate chose a few queries for me to tackle. This was fun to do and felt like a big responsibility, which probably means I will not make this a habit because tbh some of those questions were… dark. But I did my best with the ones I felt OK about advising upon, and here they are!
Dear Matched,
Can you make a ruling once and for all: If I’m on an app like Tinder or Grindr, and it clearly states I am there for “short-term fun” or “right now,” do I really need to also talk about being in an open relationship with potential partners? I do not see why that is anyone’s business if we are clear we are only meeting for sex, with maybe a drink in between. A few times when casual partners have come to my place, they’ve asked if I live alone, I tell them I share the place with a significant other, and they seem pissed. Some even seem to view this as a consent issue. I find that crazy! Who cares if it’s just sex?
—Open and Shut
Dear O & S,
Information is like an avocado. It’s all about timing—deliver it too soon and it might be hard to digest. Deliver it too late and it could lead to a meltdown. There’s a ripe time to share the details, especially when it comes to delicate matters like sex. Look, I totally get what you’re saying—why complicate a simple agenda with unnecessary information? If the terms are specifically for a very limited engagement, nobody needs to know what they don’t need to know, right?
I think the fact that people are getting mad when they learn that you have a partner is a sign that this information carries meaning for other people that it may not for you. It’s about context, which when it comes to intimacy, matters a lot. And it’s especially important here because it marks the difference between informed consent and uninformed consent. If folks don’t have all the information, they can’t make informed choices, and for as many people who would say, “Yeah, who cares, this just a hookup,” there are just as many who may not make that choice given the circumstances of your availability.
Dating apps’ most dubious reputation usually has to do with misrepresentation—even when people aren’t intentionally misrepresenting themselves. Ideally, everyone posts accurate and timely photos of themselves, writes what they’re into on their profiles, and sticks to the script once meeting someone who claims to also be into those things. But I think this is where you’re running into trouble. You’re introducing a plot twist into the endeavor at the exact time when plot twists are most unwelcome: right before getting naked with a stranger.
It’d be one thing if you made eyes at a stranger in a club or a bar, shared a passionate dance floor make-out that moved to a second location, and you’re both too in the moment to iron out the details irrelevant to that very moment. But the purpose of the apps is lined out to be as transparent as necessary to make a match, so withholding information like your availability feels shady to people who aren’t trying to involve themselves in anyone else’s drama. They don’t know if you have a very jealous partner, if you’re being truthful about your relationship’s dynamics, if they may even know your partner—it’s just a lot of blank spaces to fill with paranoia. And there are a handful of people who would prefer not to hook up with anyone in a relationship because what if they become attached only to find out you’re more than just emotionally unavailable? Knowing that beforehand mitigates any unnecessary anxiety.
Your being in an open relationship isn’t a big deal by itself, of course. But it being something that could potentially change someone’s mind or sour their experience with you means that it’s definitely worth mentioning upfront. Also, that way, you don’t have to waste anyone’s time by doing the whole match, chat, and meet up, and then spending what should be the sexiest part of the engagement defending your choices. This narrows the pool of potential hookups but it increases the chances of successful ones—for both of you. There are also niche dating apps geared toward dating while in an open relationship (Feeld is one). Maybe you’re better off fishing in a different pond, or at least diversifying your dating pool.
Dear Matched,
I’ve been using Tinder on and off for a few years, looking for my special someone. My most recent long-term relationship ended a few months ago and I’m ready to get back in the game. One major point she made was that I was somewhat misrepresenting myself on my dating profile—I suggest I like music, art, and nature but I purposefully don’t talk about my gaming interests. I know it’s not the best thing but I think it just turns people off. I don’t want people to think I’m just a “gamer” and I don’t want it to define me. But I also don’t want people to think my profile is misleading, what should I do?
—Mr. Misrepresentation
Dear. Mr. M,
You know what they say: Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off. Lying is for girls, that’s our thing. Back off… Just kidding! Everybody misrepresents themselves on dating apps. It’s impossible not to—we’re all biased, ego-driven beings trying to advertise the most desirable version of ourselves in what’s ostensibly a playing card format. There’s simply no way to capture a person’s idiosyncrasies and isms within six photos or a 10-second video or voice recording.
Dating app profiles aren’t meant to make people fall in love with you; they’re for piquing someone’s interest—hopefully, the type of person you’d be into—and then getting them to engage with you so you can get to know each other better. (In fact, if anyone claims to fall in love with you based on your profile alone, be very skeptical.) Potential matches are going to be projecting their own ideas onto your profile, based on their experiences and personal biases, no matter how accurate you think your self-portrayal is.
I’m a proponent of not giving away too much information upfront on a dating profile because A) I ain’t reading all that, B) but I’m happy for you or sorry that happened, and C) no, seriously, you can just as easily convince someone not to match with you based on too much of the same information that would otherwise inspire a match. Does that track?
You like art, music, nature—that mostly just tells me that you are a person. Cool, so am I. Forgive me for drawing conclusions, but it sounds to me like your ex flagged your gaming omission because either she took issue with it when you were dating or because gaming takes up more of your lifestyle than you are maybe aware of. I know gaming has a particular reputation, and it could be a turn-off for some people who don’t share that “lifestyle” (I feel that way about people who are really into rock-climbing or running; like, what are you running from??). I’m of the mind that having the same interests as a potential partner is way overblown in terms of determining compatibility because hobbies are secondary to who you are as a person. But if gaming is something that takes up a significant amount of your time and energy, and may even be a big part of your social circle (or economic pursuits), yeah, it’s probably worth noting. You could even just casually slip it in the middle of a brief list of hobbies and interests, i.e. “Into roaming architectural museums, trying new slice shops, horror films, video games, untangling your necklace chains, root beer floats, etc.”
You don’t want to get involved with anyone who’s going to resent your interests, I’m betting. Mentioning it might attract a fellow gamer; if anything, it’s conversation bait. This is what the chat is for! Use the chat! It’s where you can probe a person’s vibe, mention more things about yourself (like how you enjoy video games, no, not the breakout hit from Lana Del Rey), and basically figure out if you wanna take it IRL—and that’s where you really get to confront people’s often liberal ideas about self-representation. Everyone’s going to have something you didn’t anticipate. Best case scenario, it’s something unexpectedly cool. There are way worse things to find out people are into other than gaming (like Burning Man (JK)(Kind of)).
Dear Matched,
When you see racist behavior in a profile, is it worth calling out or do you just swipe left? I came across a white man’s profile in which one of his pictures he was dressed as a “rice paddy worker,” hat and all. Being an Asian American woman, I was immediately turned off, but I did “match” with him with the intent of telling him that this picture was a dealbreaker for me. He, in turn, chewed me out for not using the match feature as it was intended since I obviously didn’t want a romantic connection (fair). (In the course of this rant, he, of course, also mentioned “The picture was fine because my Asian friend said it was funny” so really, all bridges were burned on my end, too.) That being said, I did wonder if I should’ve bothered since lord knows I didn’t make this man not racist with this one callout. Is it a misuse of the matching feature to engage in this conversation, or is racism always worth calling out?
—Not Your Token Friend
Dear NYTF,
Oooof, people really do tell on themselves, don’t they? In my experience, I find that people are much more interested in not being labeled as racist than in actually engaging in the critical thought required to analyze how their behavior perpetuates racism. And they definitely don’t expect to be asked to interrogate their self-evident beliefs about their privilege and status on a dating app (although, sometimes it’s the ones who list perfunctory social justice abbreviations like some rote virtue disclaimer that also bears some side-eye). Cognitive dissonance really is a boner killer.
I’ve come across some genuinely egregious things on these streets. And I’ve definitely felt compelled to rip them a new one for it, but I don’t. I don’t because in all my experiences speaking up when I see racially insensitive behavior online, here’s one thing I’ve learned: do not argue with strangers online. It’s bleak, not necessarily the “right” way to go about it, and frustrating regardless, but if there is one form of psychic self-harm I can easily avoid, it is arguing with idiots.
Things like this make me think of the Dunning-Kruger effect. It’s a cognitive bias often used to describe people who overestimate their own knowledge and abilities because they’re too ignorant to know that they’re ignorant. It’s not a perfect theory, but it explains how self-evident beliefs often impede empathy. There is nothing more annoying than trying to tell someone how they’re doing something harmful only for them to get defensive about how no, they’re not because they have that one Asian friend. (Also, anyone who says something along the lines of “It’s not racist because my [insert relevant race here] friend told me it isn’t” does not have enough non-white friends.) Perhaps you and I are overestimating our ability to change a stranger’s mind by pointing out icky conduct. But calling out racist behavior cannot be wholly effective unless racism is collectively agreed upon as an existing social ill, which so far… we’re still not all in agreeance about that. Clearly.
That said, in times of such frustrating futility, I will sometimes redress the situation with pettiness and report the profile with a comment that it includes racially insensitive behavior (or disturbing content in some cases). Whatever the app’s policies are for racial sensitivity, they can sus it out accordingly. It’s not an individual’s job to solve racism. Save yourself the cringe and swipe left.
However, if this happens again and you want to get the algorithm on your side, you can match with them, exchange a couple of messages, and then un-match them (if you’re using Hinge, mark that you’ve met in person and that you didn’t have a great time). When the app asks for a reason why you’ve unmatched, tap on “offensive behavior” or something along those lines and it signals to the algorithm to reduce how frequently it shows their profile in the feeds… But that’s just a rumor I heard…
Dear Matched,
It seems to be a shared experience now that online dating isn’t working for pretty much anyone anymore. That being said, the possibility of IRL meet-cutes seems to have met its last cute and the Real World seems to have totally discarded the possibility of meeting your person in person. There’s a lot of good reason for that, of course—for example, men are uh, men, and someone needed to knock them down an entitlement peg—but if the apps aren’t working (and are now all owned by the same conglomerate that will shadow ban anyone seemingly on a whim in an effort to make everyone pay actual money for disappointment), what, if anything, does? If the apps are dead, are our dreams of romance and a relationship that isn’t terrible (or just “fine”) dead as well?
—In a Committed Partnership With My Cat
Dear In a Committed Partnership With My Cat,
I’m either the best person to talk to this about or the worst, depending on how willing you are to indulge delusions. Because that’s what I believe it takes to date in this current timeline. Dating apps may have worked when they were novel because, like many social platforms the internet has spawned, they’re most fruitful in their early stages when people are intentional and earnest in their engagement. Tech only gives us the tools for connection. Apps get way too much credit for dating culture now. We’ve streamlined our lifestyles to rely on tech for every convenience, and we expect romance to evolve accordingly. And it doesn’t. Nor should it! I think that’s where a lot of our collective frustration comes from when navigating dating now. The only things dating apps can reliably offer are strangers expressing interest in you in varying degrees of vagueness, and for scheduling first dates. The rest is up to us (gulp).
You want to know what does help? A baseline level of optimism, emotional resilience (not taking things too personally), a willingness to indulge vulnerability (mostly your own at first), curiosity (> judgment), a brief list of solid wants (while understanding that other humans aren’t grocery lists), and perhaps worst of all… you have to leave your house. I know, it’s hard. Your cat’s in there; why would you leave? The only thing that isn’t in your house is someone you want to date. Unfortunately, if you want to date them, you’ve got to at least meet them halfway, literally and figuratively.
And even when you’ve got those down, embarking on the misadventures of dating can still be fraught. We’re still running the Happily Ever After script wherein a “successful” relationship is considered a two-person, monogamous partnership that includes getting the government involved to legitimize it, making small people so that you can create a family, and the relationship ends only when one of you dies. If it sounds delusional, that’s because it is. Meanwhile, no one ever tells you how to navigate disagreements, mental health disparities, financial negotiations, infidelity, shared domestic duties, caretaking, and the many times that both of you will be just so, so annoyed with one another. Long-term partnerships often involve pitstops in the most hidden depths of your personal underworlds. Many people will meet you there, but it takes a really special person to help you swat away the beasties within and lead you back up to the world of the living. Honestly, it’s probably one of the most difficult and worthwhile things to do in this life. I don’t think anyone gets through love unscathed. Some folks are just better at hiding it than others, including the entire Romance Industrial Complex. I mean, I’ll give it to ‘em: Romance really is the best delusion there is. But if you want the delusion, you’ve got to be at least a little bit delusional.
I feel like people have one of two core beliefs: Things are going to work out in the end, or things are not going to work out in the end. Both are self-fulfilling. Cynicism is a very chic mechanism for self-preservation. It’s great for many things, chiefly for delivering devastating comebacks at precisely the right time they’re most potent. But on the flip side, cynicism is also a barrier to connection. It’s not going to help get you back into the black, metaphorically speaking. If you really believe that your dreams of a romantic relationship are dead, you’ve all but thrown dirt on its grave.
You’re right, men, by and large, are in their flop era. Many of them are rad, but all of them suffer under the systems they’ve constructed and put in place for themselves. It is perhaps the greatest historical irony there is, but any pleasure one may derive at their expense is overwhelmed by the wholesale bummer vibes it’s created for all of us. Conditions are not ideal, I get it. I’ve been there. I am there. I don’t have a cat though because I’ve just learned I’m allergic. Instead, I’ve undertaken the humiliating endeavor of cultivating hobbies, some of which have required that I temporarily leave my beautiful cocoon of a home. And you know what’s out there? Way more cats! Also, lots of single people who share your dating dilemmas, wondering why they can’t ever meet a lovely shut-in with a cat so you can both be shut-ins together. And neither of you have met yet because none of y’all leave the damn house.
Believe it or not, people do meet IRL—a lot! I imagine it’s just as much as before dating apps dominated our culture, with the added frequency of meet-ups facilitated via apps. The idea of going to bars to pick up a potential partner may seem equally fraught (especially to me, a person who cannot drink because I’m also allergic to alcohol; sorry, didn’t mean to make this about me) to you. That’s why I’m a fan of the unconventional approach—or lack thereof.
One effective way to get out of any rut is to gradually introduce elements of casual chaos into your routine; subtle shifts in behavior can reap very different outcomes. Do the stuff and go to the places you like, but maybe you take a different route, maybe you talk to the people there. And hang out with your friends more. It’ll replenish your connection well, which will, in turn, keep your heart fuller. Trying to date while in the throes of loneliness is kind of like going grocery shopping when you’re starving; a neglected appetite makes poor decisions. Also, socializing expands your social circle simply by upping the likelihood of meeting new people through people you may already know. And when you meet them, you don’t have to size everyone up to see if they’re partner material. Get to know them as people, removed from the romantic context (often the best way to get a sense of someone’s character). All the while, you’re building a rapport, cultivating vibes, flirting, not flirting, OK maybe flirting a little, perhaps even developing an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers dynamic. Will they? Won’t they? Only you can decide! This is the material you’re cultivating so one day you can smugly tell everyone who asks that inevitable “So how did you meet?” question every couple is confronted with, in the same intensity as when people ask someone who’s just moved to New York City how they found their apartment. I promise you, from one hopeful nihilist to another, romance isn’t dead; it just requires a bit of ominous positivity. And also leaving your house.
—Sable
Perhaps you’ve noticed my pitiful presence in your inboxes, and that’s because I’ve been feverishly cranking on manuscript edits for the book I’m working on (if my brain brains properly, it’ll be published next summer). Anyway, apologies for the silent summer, but I have an upcoming “How I got my book deal and also wrote a book against all odds” (not the real title but the gist) post for my paying subscribers that will be filled with all sorts of nonsensical graphs and strategem. Mmmm strategems…
Anyway, that’s coming up next week, so forget I told you this and then be delighted when you get another fresh email from HF in the near future.
x S
okay im subscribing