How to: Tinder?

If you’re looking for advice on online dating, this is DEFINITELY not the place for you.

As someone who prides herself on having only been one date (it was horrible and I definitely avoided him for the next year), I have absolutely no idea how I ended up on Tinder.

But last Friday, there I was, scrolling through the app on my computer (my phone knows too much) and google-searching lingo that, as a Gen Z’er (are we supposed to call ourselves that?), I should definitely have known.

In case you were curious, what stumped me was ACAB (all cops are bastards).

Anyhow, I was on Tinder, clicking through profiles, and I actually started to match with people. I know. I know. The purpose of Tinder is to match with people. That didn’t stop me, however, from seeing that first match and instantly shutting off my computer like it was infected.

Why did I do that?

Great question.

My therapist, by which I mean by dog when I day-dream her responses to my problems, would say it stems from my childhood. According to her, everything stems from my childhood.

My answer is that I was afriad. Nay, terrified.

I wasn’t going to meet anyone — we are still (unless you are my mother who’s convinced it doesn’t exist anymore) in a pandemic — and it was not like Matt who enjoys hiking and taking night drives was going to hunt me down and murder me. At least as far as I know.

(Also, why does EVERYONE on Tinder have some form of “late night drives” in their bio? Last I checked that was pajama time, not go on a late night kidnapp — I mean, drive, time.)

But I was still scared. Scared of what messaging back “hey” but with a smiley face, so I’m unique, could turn into. Scared of that big imposing r-word that single pringles such as myself balk at.

I, as it turns out, have a fear of relationships.

So what did I do about it?

Well, first I ate ice cream, because gotta reward psychological progress.

But then I sat down, reopened my laptop, spent five minutes digging through my endless supply of open tabs, and clicked back on Tinder.

And what did I find when I logged back in?

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

It turns out that un-matching is a thing, and Matt had apparently un-matched with me.

As it also turns out though, being un-matched with is much worse than being matched with. Go figure.

Since this initial matching, I have matched with two other people, and thanks to my great deal of progress, actually managed to message back one.

I have no idea if anything (knowing me its unlikely) will result from my “hey :)” but if it does, I’ll be sure to write about it, because why not make fun of myself some more?

For all parties concerned, his name is Mark, and he is apparently 6'1" (because every inch counts these days).