JAMES FULLBROOK

unHinged

This piece is not seeking to denigrate dating apps. Nor am I engineering this to elicit pity. A huge number of my friends have met their significant others online and they are very happy. The last person I loved was my first ever match on Tinder so I know I am not completely allergic to success. However, the system isn’t working for me right now so I’m going to whine about it. It is very difficult to disentangle my feelings surrounding dating apps from my general mood about being single with my twenties very nearly in the rearview mirror. But here goes…

I have been looking for Tinderella* for a while now. Looking is a somewhat misleading word as, these days, finding love is a very static activity. You can stay in one spot and, courtesy of modern technology, peruse hundreds of singles in the vicinity. You sit at the centre of a circle of which you can control the size. The greater the distance, the greater the number of singles. Depending on your geography and means of transport, this could be advantageous. But it could also incur localities that you may wish to avoid. Postcoda non grata.

*I cannot claim credit for Tinderella but the only alternatives I could produce were Myra Hinge-ly and Bumble-ina. One clear winner there.

A quick primer for those fortunate enough to not have used their 4G on roamance:

There are numerous apps out there but the three big hitters are Tinder, Bumble and Hinge. They all operate in broadly similar ways. On both Tinder and Bumble each person’s profile has pictures, various tidbits of information and answers to self-selected prompts. You swipe left if you don’t see their appeal and right if your interest has been piqued. The quirk of Bumble is that, if a match occurs, the woman must message first but she has only 24 hours to do so. Hinge differs slightly in that you can like or comment on specific parts of their profile rather than swiping. I am sure every single person has their favourite for whatever reason.

The attractive theory behind dating apps is surely only the reality for a small percentage of their users. If you are incredibly good-looking it is almost irrelevant what information you provide as people will see you and swipe right in a heartbeat. For those of us who don’t resemble Paul Mescal or Sydney Sweeney, the experience is a little different. At one point Tinder had a feature that notified you if the person you liked was a ‘popular user’ and signposted you to one of their paid options under the guise that you are more likely to get noticed. Cheers guys.

Thanks to amazing parenting and a reasonable track record when it comes to attracting members of the opposite sex (in real life), I have always been confident in myself. However, regular rejection or just lack of interaction does prompt some serious self-examination. It can chip away at your self-esteem, swipe by jaded swipe.

Is it my looks? Where I previously resembled a Justin Bieber tribute act (an opponent on the football field once screamed ‘boyband bitch!!!’ at me) I am now more of a stunt double for a bespectacled Philip Seymour Hoffman. My gran says I’m handsome but she is a) slightly biased and b) increasingly squinty of late. Of course, not everyone who comes across you will find you attractive but having that knowledge re-enforced daily is a little demoralising.

Is it my height?  ‘Tall’ is not a word used to describe me unless you are my Yoda-esque gran. I am not vertically challenged either, I am just decidedly average in that department and it has no real bearing on my life. That is, apart from on dating apps. Most apps have the option to display your height on your profile and generally everyone does. For some people it is a huge factor and can be the difference between a left or a right. For me it makes no difference but I would tend to swipe left on someone taller than me because I know the chances of them going for me are little to none. Some women have ‘must be 6ft or above’ in their bios despite being closer to 5 feet themselves. I even saw somebody list themselves as 6 foot but I have seen her in real life and she’s a good classroom ruler short of that.

It’s hard to pinpoint as to why some people wish their partner to reach a certain height. Is it deep-rooted instinct? Is it subtle influence from shows like Love Island? Is it Jacob Elordi’s fault? It matters not. It’s their prerogative and it is not news to me that many women love a taller guy. But to see something you have known since university be written down so starkly, and about a physical attribute you can do literally nothing about, is frustrating.

Is it my bio? Selling myself is an act I have always found akin to pulling teeth. I can do it in a job interview but to write it down… too gauche! There are some who write a very heartfelt bio on their profile where they underline what they are looking for. I struggle to engage with those, I find them too earnest. But perhaps I should fight against all my instincts and state clearly what (I think) I am and what I want. I can’t do it yet but a few more months without momentum might force my hand.

Is it my opening lines? I have seen ‘don’t bother talking to me if “hey” is your opener’ on numerous occasions. Some stretch it further by refusing to start the conversation, thereby heaping the pressure on the potential love interest. You must go first and it must be witty. The rules of polite conversation seem to transform in the digital wastelands. There is no margin for error. One joke that doesn’t quite stick the landing and your time is up. It feels grossly unfair but the fault lies in the system. There will be another cab off the rank if this one is an UberFail. I am exaggerating for effect but it is one example of how the rules are different online.

That brings me on to ghosting. The relative anonymity of online dating means that people can and will just leave a conversation when they feel like it. I am sure we have all had conversations in real life that we wanted to exit but usually we do so with an excuse, a white lie, a convenient urge to use the loo. It takes minimal effort to protect someone’s feelings. I find the practice of ghosting to be so lacking in humanity. I cannot say my conduct has been impeccable but I try to make a point of actually ending a conversation if I have lost interest. Even if you must stretch the truth or fabricate something, it is better to do that than leave somebody wondering. To be ghosted is to turn your disappointment inwards and question yourself. What did you do to make someone decide you are not even worthy of a few hastily typed words?

A huge selling point of dating apps is the efficiency of them. You can do it from your phone. You can see hundreds of people in such short spaces of time. The key factor in the efficiency of the apps is that the information provided can be used as a natural filter. Users can declare many things: what type of relationship they are seeking; whether they have children; whether they want children; the leaning of their politics and whether or not they drink alcohol. The list goes on and provides ample opportunity to sway your opinion. The intentions surrounding children is a sizeable signpost as nobody wants to get two years into relationship before finding out their partner is(n’t) interested in starting a family. It is especially weighty when thirty is tapping me on the shoulder.

This part of dating apps is hugely advantageous but, at the same time, can lead to creating the illusion of a perfect person. The difficult part is drawing the line. At what point can you know too much about somebody before you’ve even met them? I don’t want to spend an evening with someone who thinks Boris Johnson is just a loveable rogue so I appreciate that people can label their politics. However, is listing ‘watching the F1’ under the ‘ideal Sunday’ prompt grounds for dismissal? It is for me but perhaps I am too fussy. Too certain of my own opinions and dismissive of others. I don’t know if I have high standards as they are entirely subjective but my thumb is definitely more accustomed to swiping left than right. I think this is a result of information overload rather than any inflated self-worth as I can barely get on a train without falling in love with someone in my carriage.

Back to the F1… I don’t think I am alone in being unable to overlook trivial information but I can be objective and realise it is doing me no favours. Rich men driving around in expensive cars bores me to tears. I prefer my rich men to wear short shorts and call the ref ‘sir’.  But what if I met someone in the real world that I took a fancy to and they told me they liked F1? I certainly wouldn’t dismiss them out of hand. I am cutting off my nose to spite my face but I feel the apps have made me this way.

In all other aspects of life, I am all for efficiency (hello Microsoft Excel) and I can completely understand the need for it in the dating arena. We all lead busy lives and nobody wants to waste precious time or money if it’s not a sure thing. I just feel that apps suck the romance out of meeting someone. You have to kiss a few frogs, right?

To finish, I wanted to list some funny things I have seen on dating apps.

-          A woman whose first picture was them wearing a wedding dress. While pregnant.

-          Somebody stating a required minimum length for a gentleman’s appendage…

-          ‘Apolitical’

-          ‘Swipe left if you can’t watch a film without naming all the other films the actors have been in.’ I felt like she was talking directly to me so I swiped left. Know thyself.

-          A woman who was blackfishing and said, ‘honesty is key’.