Dating in the digital age is daunting. After swiping on and off for what felt like years, I finally matched with “John,” an alternative yet nerdy guy with a big heart working in the nonprofit space who had great local coffee and beer recommendations. He seemed worth getting to know some more.
We texted consistently for about a week, discussing our likes and dislikes, family histories and career paths. I even went as far as to recommend my favorite coffee shop — very treasured information.
With a date to meet planned, I got ready anxiously over a glass of wine and Chappell Roan’s “Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess” on blast. I was feeling “HOT-TO-GO” dressed in my favorite pair of high-rise flared blue jeans, a caramel-colored turtleneck that made my blonde highlights pop, and my coveted brown cowboy boots that I can stomp around in all night.
Filled with nerves and excitement, my energy was through the roof while driving to the bar. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t too serious. I was just meeting a new person. Easy, right?
I parked and walked to the bar. My cowboy boots click-clacking on the pavement rivaled my heartbeat. I paused, took a breath and opened the door to my potential future. My heart dropped.
“Kathryn?” I thought to myself.
His hairstyle, clothing choices and mannerisms uncomfortably matched my twin sister.
The resemblance was uncanny. Why wasn’t it apparent in John’s profile online?
The person I had spent the last week getting to know, who finally broke the spell of constant swiping, matching and conversations leading to nowhere, was my sibling’s doppelganger.
I was disappointed, and it’s safe to say there was no second date with John.
I decided to track my dating app usage and take it seriously — for science and in hopes of never going on a date with the male version of my sister again.
Over a week on Hinge, I viewed 57 profiles, swiped “yes” on 16 people, swiped “no” on 41 people, and ultimately chatted with five. That was a 31.25% success rate just to get to an initial conversation. Most responses after that were a monotonous string of “Hey, how are you?” and “What do you do for work?” questions — nothing to write home about.
However, one conversation stuck with me, for all of the wrong reasons. A guy’s profile had a prompt that asked, “One thing I’ll never do again?” and his response was skydiving.
My interest was piqued, so I asked him to clarify. He described what I now know is a fear of mine. He got motion sick while skydiving and had thrown up mid-air, all while hurtling toward the earth at an ungodly speed. Ick.
Shockingly, I only came across two fishing pictures in my search. For those not on dating apps, there is a running joke that all men have at least one profile photo of their conquest while on a fishing trip. Maybe it’s their primal way of showing they can provide for their future partner? That will require more research.
I’m not alone in being over online dating. The New York Times reported that Gen Z is increasingly ditching the dating apps in favor of meeting in person or connecting organically through their social media accounts. We’re done with tireless swiping, one-night-stand hookup culture and empty messages that lead to nowhere.
Dating apps have gamified what should be a fun, spontaneous and exciting way to meet people. They also only show part of someone’s personality and likeness; your date could act differently in public compared to how they interact with you over text.
I’d prefer to meet someone special doing something I already enjoy that feels true to me, like dining at a new restaurant or curating a local coffee tour in hopes of finding the best cappuccino in town. The dating app culture has pressured me to continuously put myself out there in a way that doesn’t feel authentic and hope Mr. Right and I somehow find each other. I’m ready to be real for something real.
