a survey of the landscape of modern day dating

I’ve been single now for almost 4 years. The end of my last legitimate relationship, which spanned nearly 7 years, was overdue. The both of us had felt a disconnect between one another and in turn, the intimacy between us faded as did our affection for one another. Fighting became more common, time spent together became less frequent, and we slowly began to disconnect. In the summer of 2021, after a manic episode that entailed me quitting my job, fighting with half of the rollerblading industry, as well as being arrested after a dispute with my father over my late mother’s estate, I was in shambles, and it only got worse. The day my ex moved out, I broke my ankle skating, and began a nearly half long process of surgeries and recovering. I relocated out of our apartment in Long Island City to rural Pleasant Valley, a small, miserable town that does not live up to its name, and I moved in down the door from my ex. And during this time, I struggled immensely. I hated my job, I hated my life and was constantly entertaining the idea of killing myself. And despite continuing to spend time with one another, with the foggy idea of us getting back together, that all came to a halt one morning while I was work, viewing her story, seeing her post a picture with a big, husky bearded guy, with a kissing emoji. She had moved on; and in turn, I needed to move. At first, I explored the idea of staying local, but upon having a handful of conversations with a now former friend, I eventually relocated to Utah.

Now during this time, and even prior to learning of my ex’s new partner, I had contemplated dating; I signed up for the apps as encouraged by co-workers at the time, and at first, things went okay. I matched with a smokeshow or two, had some conversations, and thought maybe I would find my new partner. But I was completely unaware as to how the dating landscape had changed since i had last dated nearly a decade prior. Online dating had become now a pay-to-play model; you’d have to pay to see your matches, or pay to boost your profile for more potential connections, as well as pay, at times, to continue to even swipe. And so, after a few dates with a handful of emotionally unavailable women, I really began to lose faith in my ability to find someone. When I relocated to Utah, I tried again, but, alas, was met with the same results; and honestly, some of my interactions were rather traumatizing. For example, I dated one woman that, after telling me that she was abused physically by her former partner, she still had feelings for them. Anothher smokeshow informed me that, on our third date, I displayed signs of being autistic. She promptly texted me the following day to tell me she wasn’t feeling a connection. It seemed like every single woman I had encountered was carrying a handful of emotional baggage that was busting at the suitcase, and I seemed to attract wherever I go.

*glisser vers la gauche, 2024; a series that explored the emotions experienced from online dating.*

I found, though, that luckily, I am not the only person that experiences this. In fact, most male users on dating websites complain about the same issue; lack of matches, emotionally unavailable women and the inability to make a true genuine connection. And it leaves me baffled as to why; because it isn’t to say online dating doesn’t work. My brother met his wife on a dating app, and they now have two kids and a wonderful life. My sister, as well, met her current fiance on a dating website, and while rocky at times, they are now living together and are working towards a life as one. So it isn’t to say that you cannot find love on these apps, but you have to understand that companies such as Tinder and Bumble are not in the business of love, they are in the business of making money. So if you are in a business where you can manipulate people into paying you to acquire a certain sense of validation, well, boy, you’ve hit the gold mine.

And it isn’t just men that are experiencing this. While inundated with a handful of likes and messages, and often not facing the paywall that men seem to face, women are overwhelmed by the lack of genuine conversation; most men just want to get laid. But what about us that don’t? I want to start a family; I want a partner that I will love unconditionally, and provide me with that same love in return. But it seems to be asking a lot of modern day dating to get that sort of result.

Tinder and similar dating apps have built a business where you pay for a temporary validation that is then followed by you falling into a bottomless pit of despair when ghosted or when it doesn’t work out; in turn, once your subscription expires, like clockwork, Tinder and the similar apps concoct these fake “matches” to reel you back in. Wash, rinse and repeat. Lust is their currency; love is the luxury none of us seem to be able to afford.

online dating sucks

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