At the end of last year, I jumped off the apps with the promise of having at least a one-month break.
I always thought my decision to get rid of the apps would be because I met someone and it was finally time to jump off. I had been casually seeing someone in the latter months of last year, but it fizzled out, and over the Christmas break I was trying to figure out my feelings and realised all I was left with was feeling anxious and confused.
I was anxious and confused about the dating situation, I was anxious and confused about dating apps, and I was anxious and confused about what the hell I was doing with my life after leaving the youth media space after 8 years. Ultimately I realised, I wasn’t really in the state of mind to be dating authentically if I was having a constant internalised “Who Am I?” Zoolander moment.
I realised in 2022 I was still accidentally mirroring people and holding out for them to like me, rather than probing how much I liked them or whether the situation was working for what I want in the future. I am slowly getting better at articulating my needs, but only after weeks of built-up anxiety, instead of just being able to say what I really feel at the time, in the moment. When I did a deep dive into my own feelings I realised I had been holding back from a person I had been seeing last year because I could also sense his hesitation. I got worried that anything I did was going to “scare” him off, instead of thinking “is he doing enough for me? If you scare him off by being more you and he isn’t attracted to that, isn’t that your answer anyway?”
How can someone ever really like you if you’re not even sure if you’re being your full self or unsure of what the fuck you really want?
When a relationship or dating experience ends, it's easy to jump on the apps for a hit of validation or swipe through mindlessly to quieten down your brain. It didn’t take me long in 2017, when my long-term relationship crumbled, to jump on the apps to window shop, and it’s been a pattern that’s followed me over the last five years. I’ve mainly remained on the apps while dating people and while I may stop using them, my profile is still there, waiting for the end, ready to pick up a conversation a day after something crumbles.
As it turns out, a month off the apps cold turkey was exactly what I needed: no swiping, no external validation, no mindless chat, no automatically opening the app before your brain even processes what is happening. I had to quit the itch.
In January, I was reminded what it was like to go out and meet someone, and have that instant attraction and chemistry that you can’t always find on the apps. I was reminded that I should be the one validating myself, not falling into anxious-avoidant behaviours based on whether men like me or not. I was reminded that I am attractive to some men when I am just being myself and out in the wild, not giving a fuck about making a good impression. I was reminded that I need to have my own boundaries when dating and I hadn’t been adhering to them in many dating experiences: why didn’t I leave the pub the time a bunch of old men my date knew descended onto our date and crashed it? Why can’t I voice two months in that I need more consistency if something were to progress? Why do I worry about hurting people’s feelings but not worry about protecting my own feelings and energy? Having a month off gave me a lot of time to think about what I need to be taking into dating in the future.
When you’re dating, you’ve got to be the main character: people are auditioning for a role in your life. You’re not auditioning for them to like you because you accidentally grew up a people-pleaser. Obviously in a relationship you’re not the main character, but to figure out what you want first to even get to that stage you’ve got to be a bit selfish.
My plan was to stay off the apps for some time, and I had two successful (if not accidental) dates in January just after meeting people IRL and it was a huge relief: guards were dropped, there was no trying to impress, there were no first-date jitters, I wasn’t worried about them liking me. It was just two situations of enjoying the company of someone you’re attracted to. (Obviously, two situations that weren’t going to work out but that’s not a story for here, sorry!)
So while it was a relief to experience the IRL connection again, I realised I’m still faced with a Catch-22 situation: sure, you can meet people out, but it’s fucking hard and involves a lot of energy (and money!) to be constantly out and doing things. I plan to spend a lot of 2023 getting out of my comfort zone and into new experiences, but it’s not like every time you wander into a pub, a new job, or a social sports team, you’re going to find someone you hit it off with. Plus, as I’ve said before, dating apps aren’t as much of a problem as the people on them: I can’t sit here blaming Bumble, Hinge, and Tinder for not giving me what I want if I wasn’t upholding my own boundaries.
So can you use the apps to date mindfully and with better intentions? This is what I’m aiming to find out.
I’m dipping my toe back in the pool again, but not cannonballing in. I’m starting again, one app at a time. Bumble is the one I’ve had the most success with in terms of first dates (and situationships) so the month of February is dedicated to Bumble and Bumble only: it’s also the app I’ve taken the longest break from after I deleted it in November. Therefore I’m dating Bumble exclusively and seeing where it leads me.
Minus this guy, sorry to this man.
I’m swiping more mindfully, I’m making sure I don’t let any chats expire, I’m open to going on dates sooner rather than building up weeks of talking first, and I’m unmatching if I feel like the conversation is stilted or not piquing my interest. This may sound like pretty stock-standard stuff but anyone who uses the apps knows what it’s like to be bored on a Friday night and then accidentally end up with numerous matches that you won’t ever bother talking to. I’m trying to remove the validation aspect from it, and focus on whether connections can actually be forged.
If I’m feeling over it by the end of February, then I’ll delete it and take a break again. Ultimately it comes down to personal responsibility again: [are the apps helping or hindering us?’ is a question I often ask myself. But it’s easy to ignore my own role in all of this: if I’m not using them properly, am I then just hindering myself?
I’ll keep you updated on my journey. At the very least, I’ll probably get some good screenshots out of it.
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A note to paid subscribers: I promise I am working on excerpts to send out of my book but it’s turning out to be very time-consuming! Who would’ve thought?! I will just pause all your payments if I don’t get anything subscriber-based to you soon. XOXO.
I feel this. I ended up only using Hinge because the other apps made me more anxious. I was lucky to find my soulmate (ik it sounds corny) after a few months. But those first dates with random guys (that weren't successful) were tiring and it took a lot for me to just go and do it.
There is actually a book Calle, “Boundaries in Dating: How Healthy Choices Grow Healthy Relationships,” by Dr. Henry Cloud & Dr. John Townsend. My therapist recommended it.
I think you really nailed the situation with many women--we start to mirror our significant other’s interests instead of our own. Having clear boundaries should prevent this.