I am not a dating app girl. Clearly, online dating does not agree with those traits, as men are facetiously nice online β my being a bitch would likely warrant a non-response. That being said, last spring break, I downloaded Tinder.
However, as I left the judgment and potential recognition of campus, I felt inspired to make my own profile, simply for validation purposes. However, I quickly developed a swiping addiction. Match after match, in our moving car, I swiped on a wide variety of men. Most notably, I matched with somewhere around: four West Point boys, three musicians, three junior league hockey players, six Binghamton boys, two men who were way too old for me and to my dismay, two wild Cornell boys.
And this was just from all my swiping during the five-hour car ride. I continued to swipe to a lesser degree while on vacation, and an even lesser degree during the few days I spent at home. Although getting hot matches was fun, no one told me that not everyone chats with you on Tinder β in fact, matching is half the battle when it comes to validation.
Sure, a few beefy, ab-having West Point men thought I was cute enough to swipe right, but only two of them actually thought I was cute enough to say hello. What did that say about me? That I was only attractive if I initiated the conversation? If I acted boldly? Clearly not, since one of my matches never responded to my first message to him. Tinder was just something to pass the time, something for my idle hands to play with.
All in all, the glorified game of smash or pass that I was playing became boring quite quickly. I disabled discovery mode as soon as we hit Binghamton and deleted the Tinder app the next day. I collected five Snapchats in total from the app, and though none of them are viable love interests, I think they think the same of me. That being said, my time on Tinder and my apathy toward deleting it made me realize just how content I am with being single. So, now you know: The true key to accepting singledom and fast!
