The Dating Series: Online Dating, Part I

I have been fairly blessed in my dating life. I managed to meet my two long-term partners through friends, which made the initial dating phase either wholly superfluous (going from friends to lovers) or at least quite relaxed (hanging out a few times in a group before dating).

Unfortunately, life for me took a turn for the worse in the past years and after a 10-year relationship, I saw myself flung into the messy business of urban dating in your 30s. When it comes to romantic relationships, I am neither super self-confident nor am I extremely outgoing. I was under no illusion that I would meet someone randomly at a bar, in the theatre or in a supermarket. So, I did what every single does when they’re feeling a bit down, desillusioned and desperate:

I installed Tinder.

Ghost me! Please!

I love online shopping and endlessly browsing fashion and beauty websites. Admittedly, I thought I would love Tinder because it is kind of a catalogue – but for people, not for consumer items. Not for you? Swipe left! You like someone? Swipe right! You like someone a lot? Why not upgrade to Tinder Plus for only 10 Euros per month (limited offer!) and give them a Super-Like!

However, I quickly noticed there is one big difference between Tindering and online shopping. A dress or a perfume will not give you the feeling of rejection, but a random stranger on the internet most definitely could. And if there is one thing I dread more than anything in the world, it is rejection.

My solution to this conundrum was easy: I only swiped right if I thought that I was – objectively seen – slightly out of that person’s league. I am fully aware that it is a horrible thing to put people into such categories but an app like Tinder, where you only have the following tidbits of information kind of forces you to:

• a few photos: 90% gym selfies, 5% photos taking during hiking or bouldering trips, 4% selfies taken in bed, 1% „normal“ photos
• mostly trivial bios: „I am a funny guy who likes food and travel.“ „Looking for someone to steal horses with.“
• some cringe bios: „If I was a fictional character, I’d be Christian Grey“, „Hier bin ich Kunde, in der Liebe bin ich Abteilungsleiter.“
• a few bullet-point infos about the person’s expectations and needs: looking for short-term fun, looking for a life partner, monogamy, ethical non-monogamy, love language physical touch

Not surprisingly, this strategy brought me some matches, lots of superficial online chats which would eventually fade into silence, an invitation to a one-night-stand in a hotel room (I declined, respectfully) and even a few real-life dates. The downside to my strategy, however, was: I felt no attraction whatsover to any of these guys and had to sit through hours of excrutiatingly awkward job-interview-style conversations. Where do you travel to next? What do you do in your spare time? Do you like your job? I am glad, that nobody asked me where I saw myself in 5 years‘ time, because I would have probably staged a fake emergency just to leave asap.

Guessing my matches must have felt the same way, because the dates usually ended in a stiff hug and in mutual ghosting afterwards. To my big surprise, I didn’t mind being ghosted a lot. I could trick my mind into not feeling rejected by simply imagining that my date had a horrible (but never fatal!) tram accident on the way home and suffered from lasting short-term memory loss.

One guy though had the audacity to text me after a first date and to explain to me that he enjoyed our conversation but that he didn’t feel a „spark“, then dissolved the match and deleted the chat. I couldn’t stop thinking about the message for days (despite me not having felt that „spark“ either) and was sure that the spark-thing was just code for „You are too fat!“, „Look at that hair damage! You need a hair mask, not a boyfriend“, „You’re a Swiftie at 36? Shouldn’t you grow up?“, „There’s three opened glasses of mouldy pesto in your fridge – Who could love you?“. Obviously he hadn’t seen my fridge let alone my flat but I was convinced he had taken a look at my Instagram and seen an old photo of a slightly messy kitchen.

In case you hadn’t noticed: I am brilliant at projecting my own insecurities into such messages of rejection.

So, feeling a bit down, desillusioned and desperate again, I decided it was about time to end the era of boring dates and decided that I had to take a few risks. So I started phase II of online dating.

To be continued…