I met my first boyfriend from a dating app when I was in my early 20’s. To be perfectly honest, it was through Match.com, which might have just been a website at that point and my parents paid for my subscription. The relationship only lasted six months and still brought me an impressive amount of emotional turmoil. I met another boyfriend on Bumble a few years later and ended up having to break up with him in his therapist’s office. Next up was a “successful” match on Hinge that ultimately led to my broken engagement. But still I persisted. Within a few months of my abandonment, I was back online and chatting with the man who, if these next six weeks go well, will soon be my husband.
As you can probably tell by my behavior, I have been pro-dating app for over a decade. It’s led to multiple relationships, two engagements and at least one marriage (assuming we make it to August 20th without issue). Whenever a friend is struggling to find someone, I immediately ask if they’re on the apps and then try to find a way to see their profile without being too nosy. If they’re resistant to joining, I start to sing Hinge’s praises and hit all my talking points about being able to meet people outside of your normal social circle and the benefits of being able to be direct about what you are looking for. I have remained optimistic about apps even as I hear horror story after horror story after horror story. Until now.