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Wellness > Sex + Relationships

Breaking Up with Dating Apps: What I’ve Learned in 2021

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at DePaul chapter.

The names in this story have been changed to protect privacy.

Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge: the unholy trinity of dating apps. I’ll be the first in line to say it — I’ve used them all and I’m still single. Actually, I have a permanent ban from Tinder, (more on that later) and I no longer use Bumble or Hinge. At the end of 2020, I made a personal commitment to break up with swiping culture and dating apps for the month of January, and honestly, it was hard. 

I’ve used dating apps since I turned 18, and I met all my college hook-ups through their services. These apps have been such an integral part of my life for over three years, but I still haven’t had a long term relationship come out of it. Which makes me wonder, why?

Like almost every other dating app user, I go through the cycles of finding a really good match, talking with them for a few weeks, hanging out, then communication falls through, and I’m back on the app again searching for a new shiny toy. Sometimes I would decide that I needed to take a break; however, less than 48 hours later I would find myself swiping through endless faces of people. 

Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash
Through the multiple iterations of accounts I’ve had over the years, I estimate that I’ve probably matched with over 1,000 people. Allow me to clarify — I am not trying to show off that I have an attractive profile, but rather, the sheer number of people amazes me. On a short trip to Scotland, I remember that I accumulated over 150 Tinder matches in less than three days. Eventually, this cycle becomes so emotionally draining and I finally made the decision to break up with dating apps. 

Like I said before, it’s been extremely difficult to delete this form of instant validation. To find out more about how others use dating apps, I created a survey that I sent around to friends and posted on a few Facebook pages for respondents. I had an overwhelming response of people wanting to share their stories. In my results, 59% of responses indicated that one reason they signed up for dating apps was because they felt bored and needed some validation. That was the exact cycle I wanted to break for myself.

The first day of 2021 was the last day I’ve had a dating app on my phone. In my survey, I also asked respondents what they wanted out of their dating app experience and the results did not come as a shock to me: 41% of people said they saw the apps as more of a game than a way to really connect with people. 

using phone in a crowded room
Photo by Robin Worrall from Unsplash
As a seasoned veteran of dating apps, I think I agree with that 41%. So often I think I forgot that behind each profile (even the catfishes), there is a real person; a person who just like me has real emotions and feelings as well as a desire to connect with other people. Having the ability to hide behind a screen allows us to avoid the responsibility of confronting these truths. 

In further interviews, one of my survey takers indicated she knows this feeling. On her first Tinder date, Sarah spent nearly the whole day with the person and even then, they still ghosted her after that. Especially since this was her first dating app meet-up experience, she struggled with giving up on the relationship potential — a skill people develop over time after using dating apps. 

The potential of a new relationship always feels shiny and golden, and when that falls through, plainly put, it hurts. I don’t think the hurt ever changes even as we develop that thick, calloused skin that is absolutely necessary to keep coming back to the apps. At my core, I am a deeply nostalgic person and for any relationship I have in my life, romantic or otherwise, I always remember the tiny details: how it felt when they slid their hand on my back for the first time, the way the light caught their eyes one afternoon, or the sound of their laughter. 

/ Unsplash
College has been the greatest opportunity for me to cultivate some of the most fiercely loyal friendships I have ever had. With dating apps, people feel expendable. I can take comfort that once one person ghosts, I have other options. Making the decision to go sober from dating apps relates to me missing these little things you notice over time. 

Besides missing the little things, I definitely do not miss the rampant misogyny that seems so endemic to the platforms. Every femme presenting person I know has a story about receiving a lewd or sexual first message, men threatening them for deciding to end the conversation, or just odd first meet-up stories where they needed a friend to fake an emergency so they could leave (guilty!). 

Another survey respondent, Elise, told me a story of messaging someone who began to threaten her after she stopped responding for “no more than 15 minutes,” even though they had barely started talking. She further explained how the experience permanently put her off of dating apps citing concerns of future personal safety. 

From my own experience, I’ve gone on a range of uncomfortable to weird dates, and oftentimes I felt stuck in the situation. In one instance, I ended up going mini golfing with Matt, and although I tried to make it clear I did not want him in my personal space, he kept trying to cross that line. 

With another date, I later discovered he had stalked one of my close friends (that made the uncomfortable experience even worse). When I added up all the uncomfortable experiences, the lewd messages, everything, it made me realize that the instant gratification I receive from dating apps should not (and now does not) have real value to me. 

Although 39% of respondents began using the platforms at 18, 59% indicated that they have not found a long-term relationship through the platforms. For all respondents (regardless of when they first began using the services), that number stands at 55%. The results indicate that the majority of the time, people aren’t necessarily finding “the one.”

A torn pink paper heart strung on white string with a black background.
Photo by Kelly Sikkema from Unsplash
As promised, we have arrived at the part where I share why I received a Tinder ban. During the height of the protests over the summer, I saw a trend where women (legal adults, of course) sold photos of themselves in exchange for a selected charity donation. I felt confident in myself, so I figured I could do something meaningful instead of the endless swiping.

While I am not suggesting readers follow in my footsteps, I did something concrete to help a local organization, even if it did result in a permanent ban. Although I have tried to work around the ban, I realized I’m probably not missing much (unless they make Tinder Passport free again).

 

depaul senior. indie chick and political activist on the side.