My 12 hours on Tinder

I must say that I’m not too interested in being in a relationship anytime soon, but a friend spiked my interest in Tinder when she told me how much fun and interesting it is to meet new people, and that people actually find their soul mates there. Ejem… Playmates sounds better to me, as in enjoying life, fun activities and conversation together.

So there I was. I actually signed up and uploaded my favorite picture of me with my puppy and a few more that were not fixed in any way. I’m fifty-one and I didn’t want to follow the joke: “‘If you don’t look like your Instagram picture, you are going to buy me drinks until you do!” Anyway, so I read the rules and started swiping, making a few mistakes swiping right! Actually, they were all mistakes. One of the mistakes though seemed interesting: French, cute, and my age, but… I felt kind of awful swiping men by as if I were going through clothes in a department store. These humans beings are simply being rated, swiped right, or left, based on their looks. There is nothing much else to go by. Yep, perhaps their tagline, but honestly, you are not going to read everyone’s bio just in case it’s a match.

On that note, I matched with two of my “right” swipes and soon after, 12 hours exactly, of which 7 I was asleep,  deleted my account, feeling guilty because neither the pictures nor the personal bios awakened my interest. I also realized how much importance we place on looks. A picture is one dimensional and tells us almost nothing about a person. We all should know this: the most handsome man/woman can turn out to be a frog.

I’m glad that Tinder works for people but it isn’t for me. So, out into the world, I go. Maybe I will never find my half, a half but so is life. I believe the more we seek something the more elusive, so it is with love.

 

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