We Were On A Break

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I’ve been asked by God knows how many people when I’ll be posting another blog and…well, BITCH I’M BACK. I’m not sure this post will hold much purpose other than to let you know I will be updating the blog a bit more regularly after my brief hiatus from Tinder. I lasted 2 weeks…2 damn weeks! Heroin addicts can last longer without smack than that. I thought I’d do a little debrief on my feelings and thoughts and perhaps help myself discover why I had a change of heart. After all, this blog is essentially a place for me to do a big steaming brain dump publicly for you all to mock.

So as we know, I decided to delete Tinder as I was sick of the hoards of sniveling rodents trying to get into my Primark pants. I’d spent months trying to remedy my frustrations. Changing my pictures, bio, linking and unlinking my Instagram to see if it would stop men from being giant heaps of trash. It didn’t. I then started trying to be more selective with my matches…bear in mind this is based entirely off of a couple of pictures and the equivalent of a tweet’s worth of bio. Alas, no luck. Men were still asking to wear me like a hat. What’s a gal gotta do to find a man that’s handsome, sexy, sweet, caring, considerate, funny, loyal, wholesome, has a decent job, doesn’t live in squalor, preferably has access to a dog and is into me??

Realistically, I knew I needed to stop looking and pinning all my hopes on an app which was full of relentless losers. Don’t get me wrong, I had tonnes of fun on Tinder chatting and meeting people, getting oats sowed, etc. I also had some shitty experiences including assault and a smidgen of heartbreak. I was over my hookup phase and wanted something a little more committed. I wasn’t expecting for someone to confess their dying love for me, far from it…but I was done with the fuckbois. As I would say to my correspondence when asked what I was looking for ‘not a husband and not a hookup.’ So I deleted it. I gave my number to a couple of guys who I thought I would like to continue chatting to and I wiped my existence from the app entirely. I felt such relief not having constant notifications and feeling obliged to reply to men I had little to no interest in. My family certainly felt alleviated of the stress of wondering what trouble I’d get into next.

The first few days were fine, it sounds stupid, but I had a sense of pride at not caving and redownloading Tinder as I had many times before. When meeting friends I felt so care-free ‘life has been so much better since I deleted Tinder’. I did miss it, I longed to sip from the chalice of affirmation again. I stuck to my guns though, and pretty shortly after deleting it I actually forgot about it. I had so much free time! My bus journeys now consisted of me reading articles, scrolling through Instagram and napping. What a delight!

The freedom didn’t last, and it wasn’t long until I was nestled back into the warm bosom of Tinder suckling at its offerings of admiration and acceptance from total strangers. I decided I would be more fastidious with my matches and spend time only matching guys who were:

  • attractive
  • within a reasonable distance (I set it to 25km but some bastards always sneak in from 60km+ away)
  • a bio I like (unless they tick the first 2 boxes)

Anyone who did not fit the bill was rejected. I wanted to only have ‘meaningful’ matches so made the effort to message 98% of them. if they didn’t reply or came across as a bit of a dick they would be turfed. BOY BYE. My inbox was unsurprisingly dry, despite getting a notification pop up which gave me my first week’s stats.

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Tinder? Completed it mate. As you can see, I was getting a fair amount of attention, I just wasn’t interested in anyone. I thought I was more committed this time around (to matching the right people at least) but I could barely be bothered to continue conversations. I knew what would happen. We would exchange pleasantries and perhaps talk about work and then one of us would stop replying. Neither of us would ever try and pick up the conversation again so it dies. That boy then goes to the bottom of the pile, and during my bi-weekly cleanups, he would get culled. It’s very much the ‘disposable culture’ we live in I talked about in my post about ghosting. We don’t feel like we owe anyone our time, so we don’t bother giving them anything.

I’ve been back on Tinder for a few weeks now and to be honest I’m really not bothered by it. I have very little interest and I’ve settled on the fact that I will never find anyone as long as I’m looking.

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