Breaking up with the apps, low-effort dating culture, and too many dick pics

You can blame the apps, but it's probably best to just blame modern-day dating as a whole.

I’ve been off the apps for a little over a month now and in this current moment (8:44pm on a Monday night in September) it’s hard to imagine actually going back on them again, or feeling the urge to swipe through on a boring Friday night and search for a bit of dopamine, before giving up and deleting them (again) and then repeating the same cycle.

I’ve been stuck in that cycle for years now and I can break down the stats of how the apps have panned out for me: one significant crush, one three-month situationship, a few different friends with benefits style things thrown in, way too many dick pics to count. Then there has been quite a few first dates, a series of second dates, and barely a handful of third.

So for nearly seven years on and off the apps, we can safely say the stats aren’t… great.

In acknowledging the silver linings, there have been some really good mates made along the way too, which I think is important to note. I just finished listening to a series of VMs from a guy I went on a first date with in 2019, and I know next time I feel confused about my own romantic situation I’ll be hitting him up for some straightforward male advice. And to me, that is beautiful.

I’ve been on a huge journey with the apps over the past 6-7 years — from the brokenhearted 27-year-old downloading them again after years off them, to the person dating just for fun, to the girl who decided it was “time” for something more serious, as though it would magically appear on the apps when I was ready. I’ve been the person who has tried Tinder, Hinge, Plenty of Fish, Turn Up, Feeld, Bumble (time and time again) and probably a few more rogue ones for good measure.

So at what point do you really just accept the longest relationship you’ve had in your adult life is with the apps themselves instead of a sustainable connection found on them?

Well, I guess now is the time.

Every dating experience for me in the last few years has been, in hindsight, a fantastic learning lesson. I’ve dated different types of people, I’ve learned on a much deeper level of what I’m looking for in a partnership, I’ve had fun getting to know different personalities on dates even if there was no romantic connection. I’ve dated men from different upbringings, different cities, different countries, and different cultural backgrounds, and every single one has helped me in ways they probably don’t even know: from helping me work through my fluctuating avoidant-anxious attachment style, opening up my communication, helping me realise it’s not about being liked but what they’re bringing to the table too, and cementing exactly what I am looking for.

And my God, I’ve had some dud dates too: misogynists, Andrew Tate supporters, trauma dumpers. I’ve given free therapy, I’ve nodded politely, I’ve made exit plans in my head after one wine. I’ve blocked people, I’ve sent them to the WhatsApp grave, I’ve looked over my shoulder as I’ve walked home.

I dated a few different people in the first six months of 2024, and the common denominator was I was constantly trying to convince myself it was all worth it, like I’d get some serious FOMO if I wasn’t to take one or seven more chances on love: meeting new people is exciting, I’d tell myself, or maybe I should give this guy a fourth date just to see if it finally clicks for me. Maybe I want to cancel this date, but maybe I shouldn’t because this could be the one to surprise me. Did that guy just buy me two drinks without expecting me to go halves? Is this the one? Is the bar really that low? Actually it’s buried six-feet under at this stage.

The thing is, I know myself now and I know what I’m looking for and while it’s not the toxic spark of unattainable situations from years gone by, it’s also not complacency or “he’ll do”. I’ve been single long enough now to know that I am happy on my own. I just haven’t met the person yet who’s going to enhance my life and grow with me, and if I don’t, then that’s also OK.

Just like I would now no longer stay in a relationship that wasn’t fulfilling, it’s safe to say I realised it was time to cut the apps from my life, as with every use they became less mindful and more habitual.

Along with the apps this year, I’ve met people and gone on dates from IRL connections: people I’ve met at gigs, at the gym, at bars, through friends. I can see the shift again now as people move off the apps and look out into the real world again. Connection can be formed in a lot of ways if we keep our eyes open.

Now, this isn’t to say my IRL connections have necessarily been better. Sure, it’s taken the awkward “stranger” feeling politeness out of the first interactions, and we’re not sitting down peppering each other with job interview-style questions if we’re standing in the middle of a crowd at Crowbar.

But I’ve still had situations that have gone awry: like the dude I met at a Bring Me The Horizon gig who only wanted to communicate via Snapchat and send me dick pics. Or the guy I met out in Bondi recently who dropped me home then a few days later told me he was parked on my street and also… well, sent me a dick pic.

It turns out we never needed just the apps to do editions of this newsletter: I’ve probably had enough material over the last nine months to last me a lifetime, but I’m also so tired of the low-effort behaviour that it stopped being fun or funny to write about. How many times can you reiterate via screenshots that people have simply given up on fostering an authentic connection with each other and we’ve all fallen victim to the next-best-thing mentality?

This may sound like the end, and it’s not (yet). I still have a lot of thoughts in me on dating culture, where it’s heading, and as my real-life encounters have proved, you don’t really need apps to document the shit straight men are saying (scroll down to my last and only screenshot in this article).

I’ll still have plenty of adventures coming up in the latter half of the year (one that will probably be quite well-documented) so it’s not saying a proper goodbye to this newsletter just yet. And who knows, there’s still a chance I could be popping up on the apps again. Or not. That’s the beauty of this modern-day dating world, nothing is really ever set in stone.

SHIT STRAIGHT MEN SAY: THE BONDI EDITION

(I’d like to point out this is not the dude who dropped me home)

Who said romance is dead?