Adventures in Dating (Apps)

In my therapy session earlier this week, my therapist suggested downloading a dating app as a means to distract myself/get over my recent heartbreak.  She also mentioned that these apps could be good for ego boosts.  My response was, "I don't think my ego is really the problem right now."  And it's really not.

When she and I started talking about possible future relationships, I drew a blank.  All I could think was that my current circle of friends is made up of people who either have partners or are not people I'm interested in dating, often both.  Because they're my friends, not potential romantic partners. My therapist said, "Then it's time to widen your circle."

She then suggested I look at some of the dating apps out there.  She said, "Tinder," and I think physically reacted negatively.  She also mentioned Bumble as being more women-friendly, and I thought, Yeah, I remember hearing about that.

I told her the thought of a dating app terrified me.  But I couldn't quite nail down or express why, but my feeling was very visceral.

The last time I tried meeting people online was pre-text message era!  We're talking like "Yahoo personals" or something.  And then some years later, maybe Match.com?  But even then, it was the same five lesbians on every site; I'm pretty sure I had coffee with all of them.

So after therapy, I downloaded Bumble (for free) on my phone.  And then I didn't touch it for 24 hours.  I mean, I didn't even open the app.

Then, when I did open the app, it said, "Connect with Facebook," and I immediately closed it again.

Then, because I'm a nerd, I did some research.  I found a nice "how to" article from Business Insider of all places.  By the next time I dared open the app again, I felt a tad better and a bit more informed.  And I read the fine print beneath the "Connect with Facebook" promising me that the app doesn't post to Facebook ever.  And even then, I made several changes to the access the app had to my Facebook profile for  my own peace of mind.

I went about "setting up" my profile; however, there's very little to actually "set up," especially if you just import six pictures (the max allowed) from your Facebook profile.  I was surprised (and therefore scared) at how fast it was.  No surveys to fill out, no questionnaires about my hobbies and what kind of cheese I like to eat.  I had to condense myself into a brief bio -- not too hard to do for an actor as I have to write them all the time for show programs.

And then I found a button to make my profile "private," and I hit that little fucker so fast!  "Private" on Bumble (apparently) means that no one can see your stuff, and I breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden reprieve and a chance to tweak my profile/bio a bit.

And during all of the above, I had butterflies in my stomach -- and not the excited, happy kind.  This was trepidation, not anticipation.  But all I could reason was that it's all so new (and new is scary, change is bad, etc. etc.).  So I gingerly waded back into the fray.

And then I hit my next conundrum:  there is no way to "skip" a profile.  You must decide, then and there, if you want to swipe right (good) or swipe left (bad) before you can see any other profiles.  And I have yet to figure out or see how the order of profiles is chosen¹.

So of course I started to freak out a bit.  What if I changed my mind?  What if I miss somebody good?  What if I want to compare to the next profile?

And then the crux of it:  I did not want to swipe ripe.  I was terrified to do so.

And it wasn't until a few minutes later in the bathroom (of all places), sitting on the toilet, when I made the stunning realization of why and why all of this was so frightening to me.  I'm still trying to unpack it all, but I'll do my best to explain it here.

My first, unbidden thought about a dating app, and then "swiping right" was:  But then they can see me!

I recognized that non-butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I didn't want to invite their attention.
At. All.

Because then what?
Then I'm stuck with them.
How do I get rid of them?

Things like
Tease
Well, you were asking for it
You invited me
bounced through my head.

Inviting attention like this felt akin to interacting with cat-callers and street harassers (which I don't do).  Just keep your head, girl; just keep on walking.

I flashed back to a date I had in 2006-ish with a man.  We met for drinks at his apartment first, before dinner.  Sitting on his couch, mid-conversation, mid-sentence even!, he leaned over and put his mouth on mine in a slightly insistent (and not all that great) kiss.  I was more shocked than anything at the time.  Yes, I had agreed to a date, but that didn't automatically mean (forcing) a kiss, let alone in the first 20 minutes!  I didn't like the kiss, and then I still had to suffer through the rest of the date.

I thought of my stalker and our original coffee meet-up/non-date.

And through all of this, and telling some of the briefest bits of these insights to a couple of friends, I tried not to cry at my desk at work.  On my birthday, no less!

I thought back to the old days of the Internet and some of the BDSM forums, trying to extricate myself from people I clearly wasn't interested in but had made the mistake of being "nice" to.

I didn't (and don't) want any of that again.  I didn't (and don't) want to be accused of leading anyone on².  I didn't want to "swipe right" unless I was absolutely sure I could "follow through" (with what?  what the fuck does that even mean??) -- and that's not how these apps are designed, even the ones that are designed for more than just random hook-ups.

And that's when I realized I'm not ready for this yet.  That's a lot of baggage to unpack, mostly (though certainly not only) due to toxic masculinity.

Everything is still too new, my heartbreak too fresh; I'm still too tender and bruised.

One thing about the person who did break my heart:  I felt very safe with and around them, both physically and emotionally.  There was very little holding back of feelings and words, the freedom of which was exhilarating.
-- up until the moment they broke my heart, of course.  That almost goes without saying.

So today I messaged two of the five "matches" I had made³ and basically said, "Sorry, I'm not ready for this dating thing; I did enjoy your profile."  And then I made my profile "private" again.
I didn't owe them that (or anything), but in addition to not wanting to be rude, I might want to find them again when/if I return to the wide, wide world of online dating.

But Jesus H. Christ!  Who would have thought that one free app and sitting on the toilet alone with my thoughts would bring to light so. many. issues.

And I don't just mean with me.

I mean with our society that has instilled such fear in me -- a forty-year-old woman -- making me too paralyzed to "swipe right."

¹I have emailed the Bumble staff about that; rather, I put down that I'm interested in both men and women, yet I'm only getting men's profiles.  The only way I've been able to see women's profiles is if I change it to women only.

²One of the things I appreciate about Bumble is that men can't initiation conversations.  At. All.  Once a "match" has been made, the woman has 24 hours to start a conversation (another conundrum/source of stress for me -- the time limit!).  After that, the "match" disappears.  If both people are same-sex, either can initiate conversation.

³Only if both people have "swiped right," will you both be alerted that a "match" has been made.  So far only 5 of us had done so.  But for my ego boost, Bumble kept showing me the number of people who had already "swiped right" for me, offering to show those profiles first (if I upgraded the app and paid them money).  That number was last at 50+.  Yay me.